cop to be murdered? But after Ford’s confession that he was the one who’d killed St. John’s friend and former partner, or allowed it to be done, Agent Jeff Graham deserved retribution somehow.
Ford’s obese body bounced. “But I thought you said—”
“No, you’re mistaken,” Justice said. His eyes cut up to St. John. He lifted the pistol.
St. John turned his head and walked out of the room.
Justice’s words followed him. “I knew you couldn’t bear to watch a brother cop die.”
Chapter 10
A bigail zipped the Glock 9mm from the nightstand, her arm straight and hand steady. She’d become much more comfortable with the weapon since the first time she pulled it on St. John at Ellie’s Outpost. As evidenced by her planting three rounds into Rage’s head, she also wasn’t hesitant to pull the trigger.
“Get the fuck out,” she said, her lips pressed to a tight line.
Voodoo froze—about three feet from the barrel—her green eyes popped wide. Lawless cautiously stepped in front of his partner.
“I’m not one of the Savages. I’m a cop.” His hands raised about chest high, “I’m sorry to say they’re my blood brothers, but that’s it.”
Abigail bit her upper lip, as she tried to decide whether to trust him. She stepped back three paces. Not a retreat, but a safe distance. She planted her bare feet shoulder width apart and squared her shoulders. Although she was as nervous as jelly on the inside, she exuded confidence. She swished her thighs real quick to dismiss the post-orgasm tingles that still pulsed below.
Abigail looked past him. Voodoo nodded. She lowered the weapon. Lawless stepped forward, and reached for her phone. Adrenaline flared, firing up Abigail’s brain to act. She squared the weapon mere inches from his broad chest. They both froze. Her senses were so heightened, she could’ve heard Lawless’ muscles flex for the gun. She had no doubt her trigger finger would be faster.
“Back off.” she raised her voice. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I was just powering down your cell phone. The Savages have been monitoring all comms, and I’m sure they’re more than interested to know what you’re up to.” Lawless sighed. His big thumb mashed the button until it deactivated. He removed the battery and tossed both pieces on the bed.
Abigail’s eyes cut to the bed as Lawless leaned to sit. She thought about the orgasm and wondered if he could smell her sex. If he was anything like his kin, he’d know soon.
“You had company?” he asked with a sly shit-eating grin.
She chewed the skin just below a fingernail to conceal a smirk. “No, why?”
“Honey, then what the hell you been doing in here all alone?” Voodoo took an aggressive tone. Her body, although short, leaned forward as her head bobbed slightly.
Ha, this bitch is jealous. I guess all of the Boudreaux boys want a piece of me. Except Fury. Poor bastard.
“Hold on, honey. I’ve got enough of the Boudreaux curse. Don’t need it from him or you,” Abigail said. Her wispy body towered over Voodoo’s, but both women’s attitudes braced like gnarled predators.
Abigail flipped her fingers as if to brush away the confrontation. She leaned against the wall closest to the bathroom. Exhaling, she rubbed the back of her neck without making eye contact with either of them. She regretted agreeing to meet them.
“I did this for James, so lets get on with it before I change my mind.” Her chest tightened. She pressed her palm in circles against it. “Have y’all heard from him lately?”
“No. We thought he’d drop by once we arrived,” Lawless said.
Her hand covered her snort. “Drop by? From Las Vegas? I don’t think so.” Their eyes met—they hadn’t a clue. She slipped her right hand behind her back—the Glock was ready.
“Baby, I see your gun in the mirror. You want to pull it out, then pull it out. We only know where St. John is when he tells us,” Voodoo said. “What in the world
Ford’s obese body bounced. “But I thought you said—”
“No, you’re mistaken,” Justice said. His eyes cut up to St. John. He lifted the pistol.
St. John turned his head and walked out of the room.
Justice’s words followed him. “I knew you couldn’t bear to watch a brother cop die.”
Chapter 10
A bigail zipped the Glock 9mm from the nightstand, her arm straight and hand steady. She’d become much more comfortable with the weapon since the first time she pulled it on St. John at Ellie’s Outpost. As evidenced by her planting three rounds into Rage’s head, she also wasn’t hesitant to pull the trigger.
“Get the fuck out,” she said, her lips pressed to a tight line.
Voodoo froze—about three feet from the barrel—her green eyes popped wide. Lawless cautiously stepped in front of his partner.
“I’m not one of the Savages. I’m a cop.” His hands raised about chest high, “I’m sorry to say they’re my blood brothers, but that’s it.”
Abigail bit her upper lip, as she tried to decide whether to trust him. She stepped back three paces. Not a retreat, but a safe distance. She planted her bare feet shoulder width apart and squared her shoulders. Although she was as nervous as jelly on the inside, she exuded confidence. She swished her thighs real quick to dismiss the post-orgasm tingles that still pulsed below.
Abigail looked past him. Voodoo nodded. She lowered the weapon. Lawless stepped forward, and reached for her phone. Adrenaline flared, firing up Abigail’s brain to act. She squared the weapon mere inches from his broad chest. They both froze. Her senses were so heightened, she could’ve heard Lawless’ muscles flex for the gun. She had no doubt her trigger finger would be faster.
“Back off.” she raised her voice. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I was just powering down your cell phone. The Savages have been monitoring all comms, and I’m sure they’re more than interested to know what you’re up to.” Lawless sighed. His big thumb mashed the button until it deactivated. He removed the battery and tossed both pieces on the bed.
Abigail’s eyes cut to the bed as Lawless leaned to sit. She thought about the orgasm and wondered if he could smell her sex. If he was anything like his kin, he’d know soon.
“You had company?” he asked with a sly shit-eating grin.
She chewed the skin just below a fingernail to conceal a smirk. “No, why?”
“Honey, then what the hell you been doing in here all alone?” Voodoo took an aggressive tone. Her body, although short, leaned forward as her head bobbed slightly.
Ha, this bitch is jealous. I guess all of the Boudreaux boys want a piece of me. Except Fury. Poor bastard.
“Hold on, honey. I’ve got enough of the Boudreaux curse. Don’t need it from him or you,” Abigail said. Her wispy body towered over Voodoo’s, but both women’s attitudes braced like gnarled predators.
Abigail flipped her fingers as if to brush away the confrontation. She leaned against the wall closest to the bathroom. Exhaling, she rubbed the back of her neck without making eye contact with either of them. She regretted agreeing to meet them.
“I did this for James, so lets get on with it before I change my mind.” Her chest tightened. She pressed her palm in circles against it. “Have y’all heard from him lately?”
“No. We thought he’d drop by once we arrived,” Lawless said.
Her hand covered her snort. “Drop by? From Las Vegas? I don’t think so.” Their eyes met—they hadn’t a clue. She slipped her right hand behind her back—the Glock was ready.
“Baby, I see your gun in the mirror. You want to pull it out, then pull it out. We only know where St. John is when he tells us,” Voodoo said. “What in the world
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