Dream Maker (Dream Team 1)

And he was seriously down with what Hawk said. Those Rock Chicks had bumpy rides.

And their men being dragged right along with them?

Jesus.

He wanted no part of that kind of shit.

Except for the fact that for some reason, Evan was currently keeping safe thousands of dollars of drugs.

“I think that ship’s sailed,” Elvira muttered, eyeing up Mag and Mo.

“Lee Nightingale lost hundreds of man hours on that Rock Chick shit. I’ll repeat, that is not happening here,” Hawk said to Elvira.

“Well, all right!” Tex boomed. “We’d hit such a long, boring patch, I thought I’d have to eBay my grenades. Trust my Lottie girl to stir things up.”

Mag noted at this juncture that Tack was watching all of them wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Call Slim,” Hawk ordered Mag.

Slim being Brock “Slim” Lucas, one of Hawk’s posse that included Tack as well as Mitch Lawson.

Mitch and Slim were cops.

Tack was not.

“I’m not in this,” Mag reminded his boss.

“Call Slim,” Hawk reiterated.

“She’d not thank me for that,” Mag told him.

“I don’t give a fuck. I don’t even know this woman and I know she’s in over her head. She can thank you later, when this is done and she’s still breathing,” Hawk replied. “Call Slim.”

“I’ll look into it,” Mo muttered.

“Jesus Christ, did you not hear me?” Hawk bit off. “This crew is not taking on the next generation of Rock Chicks.”

“I got leave coming, I’ll look into it.”

Everyone turned to see Auggie at his station, leaned back in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed on his chest, watching their show.

Fucking Auggie, also obviously a coworker, and a bud practically since they met.

Hawk’s posse included Slim, Mitch and Tack.

Mag’s crew was Mo, Auggie, as well as Axl and Boone, the last two out on assignments.

Being on Mo’s crew, Aug was also in line for a Lottie fix-up (as were Axl and Boone).

But all Mag could see right then was Auggie, who scored more pussy than Mag just by catching a woman’s eyes and quirking a smile.

If Evie caught sight of Aug, she wouldn’t crack her head into a counter after she dropped her lip gloss.

She’d walk into a wall.

“You’re not lookin’ into it,” Mag told him.

Auggie’s dark eyes shifted to him and they were amused.

Motherfucker.

“Which one is she?” Auggie asked.

“What?” Mag asked back.

“Which one of Smithie’s girls?” Auggie gave detail to his question.

As far as Mag knew, he, Axl and Auggie had been to one show at Smithie’s club, when Lottie went back to work after the sick-fuck who’d fixated on her was taken out of commission, Mo couldn’t be there, so they were in his stead to provide moral support.

And Evie did not dance that night.

In fact, upon seeing her, Mag was very interested in going one night to watch her dance.

Two minutes into meeting her, he had to force himself not to think about it or he’d go caveman, that being locking her in his bedroom and keeping her there until he convinced her to stop dancing, and she wouldn’t like that.

Now, he was thinking about Auggie seeing her dance.

And he didn’t like that.

“You been back?” Mag asked.

“No,” Auggie answered.

“She wasn’t on that night,” Mag told him.

“Mystery pretty,” Auggie said. “Best kind.”

Mag ground his teeth.

He then turned to Hawk.

“If anyone’s on her, I’m on her.”

And if she didn’t like it, fuck it.

Hawk was right, she was in over her head.

If she didn’t realize that, that wasn’t his problem.

Her shit needed to be dealt with and she had no clue.

So, he had to wade in.

He should never have left last night.

He should have called Slim his damned self.

Now, he was going to take another crack at talking her into doing it.

And if she refused, he’d make the call.

Tack spoke for the first time.

To Hawk.

“I think you’re fighting a losing cause here, brother.”

Hawk didn’t even look Tack’s way.

He stared at Mag.

Then he said, “Personal shit on personal time.”

“Gotcha,” Mag muttered, wondering, since his day involved desk work, which he hated, how he’d wait until after it was done to track down Evan and lay into her ass.

“Shit gets twisted, Mag,” Hawk continued, and Mag refocused on him, “her trouble worsens—”

“I’m gonna get her to call Slim,” he assured.

“What I was gonna say is,” Hawk went on, “you get approval before you use company resources.”

Tack started chuckling.

Tex guffawed.

Elvira said, “Well, hump day just turned into bump day.”

She then held out her fist to Tex.

Who did not hesitate to bump it with his own.

Fuck.Chapter FiveGive Them HarmonyEvieThe sun wasn’t even up in the sky before I rolled out of a bed I’d eventually put myself in after I’d stopped blubbing.

But I didn’t get that first wink of sleep.

I grabbed my phone off the charging mat and went to my texts just to torture myself.

My plea to Mr. Shade of the Long Car,