Page 32 of Moros

When I arched a brow, the man widened his eyes and tipped his chin toward me while tilting his head to the right.

Realization filled my head.

“How did he make it on the list?” I wanted to know. “There are only three people on that.”

“Four now.” Poke replied. “When you were under, a whole lotta shit happened. They are all need to know and since you were on your way out?—”

“I didn’t need to know.”

“Exactly.” Poke replied.

“So, you’re telling me, this man is risking his life for money?” Ryanne shifted against my thighs.

Her breast brushed my chest, and I almost lost my mind.

“No disrespect, Lady, but Torez isn’t very smart.” Poke explained. “If the money is right, he doesn’t care. So, hence what I said before to be self evident. Whoever hired him, has money—money that would put Steve Jobs to shame. And another thing.”

Poke stopped to glance over his shoulder.

“I may not like you Morose but you’re a good cat.” Poke leaned in. “Sloan is keeping information on this gig close to his chest. He hasn’t even old his own guys why they’re doing this. Nothing is floating around the dark holes. What I do know for sure is that. he’s brought in Hulk and Cider.”

I nodded and patted his shoulder.

“Go see a doctor about that arm.” I lifted Ryanne to her feet and stood. “And you and I didn’t have this conversation.”

“I’m not a complete idiot, Moros.” Poke waved to the bartender.

“When you’re sober, no.” I replied.

When the bartender hurried over, Poke waved him off and I took Ryanne’s hand and exited the Shamrock Paddy’s.

“Who are Hulk and Cider?” Ryanne wanted to know.

“Enforcers.” I replied, opening her door while looking around. “The last time we met, didn’t end well.”

“What in the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know yet.” I answered. “Get in.”

7

RYANNE “SHORTY” LARWICK

Taking Khadri to my place and inside was embarrassing. But this wasn’t time for my delicate sensibilities.

Still, my knees shook as I opened the door and allowed him to step by me. His large frame took up so much space, he pressed intimately against me as he passed, and I blushed to bite back a moan.

Once the door was closed, he walked over to the window, eased the curtain aside with one finger and stared down.

Something was wrong—I knew that from the way Dude had carried his frame all those years ago. His back straight, his eyes was as if he had tunnel vision and the silence—I remembered the silence most of all.

Without questioning things, I rushed into my bedroom. Yanking my backpack off the hook over the bedroom door, I immediately went to the most important things—panties. Once I shoved a handful into the bag, I packed clothing that didn’t take up much space—shorts, summer dresses, a pair of flipflop.

I was dumping hair products in when Khadri called my name.

“Move it.” He told me.

I was sitting on the bag to zip it up when the familiar sound of wood splintering caught my attention followed by the loud boom of a gunshot.

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