Page 9 of City of Wind and Lies

I give Drea the abridged version of what happened as I drive straight to Trey's apartment and fill every suitcase I can find. All the while, I’m looking over my shoulder, anxious that he might turn up.

Working in tandem, we empty the dresser and closet in no time. Drea takes the two big suitcases down to the car while I make one last quick sweep of the place. I snag my charger from the nightstand, grab my favorite coffee mug from the kitchen- because yes, it really does matter what mug you drink your coffee from- drop my key on the hook, and head down to the car.

“Alright, I think that’s it,” I breathe out, the license plate rattling as I slam the trunk shut. “Let’s get outta here."

The little bit of guilt I've been holding onto for my less than 48-hour rebound hookup fades away as I slide into the driver's seat and head toward Pilsen.

"Good," Drea mutters, flipping the building off, "and good riddance."

4

The security footage didn't show who got into the warehouse, but it did show me how they got in.

I'm leaning against my Challenger Jet, foot propped against the wheel with my hands stuffed in my pockets when Dallas, Rhodes, and three of Ricci's soldiers- Dominic, Cade, and Adam- walk into the hangar.

"Gentleman," I greet with a tilt of my head. "Guns out. Empty your chambers, give the clips to Rocco, and take a seat."

These men appear to be loyal, I'll give them that. No one hesitates at my command and it's a small relief knowing as much. Fingers tap, knees bounce, and arms fold in a nervous fashion as they take their seats around the card table.

I push off from the tire, the heels of my dress shoes clipping against the concrete as I slowly roll my cuffs up my forearms and circle the table. "I pay you well, no?" I ask, cutting straight to the point.

Heads bob up and down as their cautious eyes follow me around, like this is some twisted game of duck duck goose.

"Good, I thought so. But apparently, I don't give you enough time for...recreational activities," I say, pausing between Adam and Cade, fingers curling around the back of an empty chair.

The sound of the metal legs of the chair scraping against the concrete reverberates around us as I draw it backwards and take a seat. I lean back, kicking a foot up to rest an ankle on my opposite knee while pulling my Glock from my waistband. Adam’s shoulders tense as my fingers flex lightly on the grip, one resting on the barrel as I balance it on my thigh.

Good, the fucker should be scared.

"You all work security here. Now, I know it’s not a job with a fancy title, but you each are a leader to your teams. I appreciate that. Without good security, things go missing, sometimes even people."

From the corner of my eye, I see Rocco moving closer, a sheet of folded plastic neatly tucked under his arm.

"Dallas," I say, lifting my chin. "You checked the footage, what'd it show?"

"There's a dead zone on the northeast corner. A drone came in several times over the last few weeks and was nudging one of the cameras in the other direction."

"Hmm," I muse. "But with the motion sensors, how did this go unnoticed?" I ask with mock curiosity.

Dallas’ throat bobs with his swallow. He rolls his shoulders back and lets out a slightly ragged breath before answering, "Because the sensors were overridden and turned off on that side of the building."

I gasp, acting like this is some startling revelation to me. And I shit you not, all five of these fully grown, made men, with tattoos and rap sheets, jump.

Rocco takes that as his cue to shake out the plastic, laying it down beside me. Everyone sees this action, but none of them dare to move.

"See boys, upgrades were made after the last mishap. Now I can see who does what within the system."

I spring forward from my seat, one hand gripping the gun, the other circling Adam's throat as I push him backward, kicking the chair away.

His eyes widen in shock, fingers clawing at my wrist as I pin him down on the plastic sheet. "Tell me, was it worth it? Are a dime bag and corner pussy good enough to die for?"

He wheezes and tries to shake his head no as I press the muzzle between his eyes. "I tolerate your drug use, hell, I don't even mind that you got your dick wet on the clock. But this wasn't the first domino to fall. No, you lost your keys, the fence was cut, all things you should've reported."

Click.

His body stills beneath me as he hears the safety come off, like he's accepting it and making peace with la Madonna.

I make the mistake of easing my grip, giving him the oxygen he needs to buck his hips and try to kick me.

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