“How is that going to help?” Owen bites out. “He fucking arrested you.”
“He didn’t think I did the crime I was charged with.”
“What were you charged with?” Gabriella asks, and we all fall silent. It’s a topic we never touch. Ever. Grayson is sensitive about it because it still kills him that someone would accuse him of that.
He wipes his mouth and balls his fist. “I was charged with rape. I didn’t do it. The cop knew that, but he had no choice but to cuff me.”
I remember the day Grayson found us. He was fresh out of prison, pissed off and a little broken. Being charged of rape, when you weren’t a rapist, did that to a man. He spoke to Jaxon apparently, briefly, in prison, and Jaxon said to look for him in Trinidad when he got out.
He did.
And now we were all here, waiting to get that sweet little thing called revenge.
“All of you are innocent,” Gabriella says with awe as she stares each of us down. “You’re a group of innocent men who were wrongfully charged.”
“Yes,” Grayson says, relieved that she believes him. He hates defending himself.
Gabriella looks even more confused. She looks around the house, trying to figure out how we can afford this. She opens her mouth to say something, but then she shuts it. She is letting something roll around in that head of hers, and I want to know what it is.
“I have a feeling you’re trying to piece together how we can afford to live like this?” Heaven laughs, then sits back, lifts his good foot on a chair and clicks his tongue, staring at me. “Wow, you know how to wait to the last minute don’t you, Sebastian?” He relaxes into the couch and growers at Gabriella. “He hasn’t told you what we do? How I broke my leg? Why Grayson always holds his side? Anything?”
“We haven’t had a lot of time to talk,” I mutter and pour myself a cup of coffee from the carafe.
“Oh, there has been time. Believe me, I heard it,” Heaven snorts.
“What do you guys do?” Gabriella asks the one question I don’t want to answer.
“We are a group of innocent criminals who steal from other criminals. It’s how we make our living,” Owen says, as-a-matter-of-factly, and sips his coffee with loud slurps, waiting to see her reaction.
“Like heists?” she asks, dumbfounded.
“Yep,” Grayson replies, smiling behind his mouthful of eggs.
“So, we could plan to do that to Kendrick, take him for everything he is worth, and then we could kill him, right? That’s the gist of what you guys do?”
Owen spits out his coffee, Heaven slaps his knee as he laughs, and Grayson stares at her like a deer in headlights.
“It doesn’t bother you. That we do that? We nearly got blown up a few weeks ago in our efforts,” I state, waiting for her to be shocked or scared. I know Quinn didn’t handle it well at first, and it’s one of those things that could take awhile to sink in and absorb.
“Is it supposed to bother me?” She chews on her bottom lip as she thinks. “Nope, it doesn’t bother me. I think it’s cool. I want to join the club. Let me join. Let me join!” She jumps up and down and claps her hands.
I cough into my fist to try to disguise my laughter. I glance at the guys, and they are all grinning from ear to ear.
“She’s so stinking’ cute. I just want to squeeze her,” Heaven says, wrapping his arms around himself. He makes her sound like a cute puppy.
“Baby, it isn’t a club. It’s a dangerous job. We nearly got killed. Why would you want to be a part of that?”
“Because I want to take back what was lost from me. I’m going to guess that’s why you do it? You’re mad at the criminal world, so you take it on to get back at them?”
“She’s very intuitive for not asking a lot of questions about this,” Owen says, about to take another drink of his coffee when he thinks better of it, since he spit in it, and poured it down the drain. “Damn, I hate wasting coffee.”
“Same,” I say, rubbing it in his face as I bring my mug to my lips.
He narrows his eyes but doesn’t say a word. We are cowboys at a standoff, holding each other’s gaze to see which one will flinch first.
Heaven whistles the typical theme song in those old western shows. I break first because I have a fucking sense of humor. Owen just grunts and spins around to pour himself another cup of coffee.
“She is right here,” Gabriella sasses, snatching a piece of bacon of Grayson’s plate.