Page 21 of Draven

“On it.”

“I need this to happen ASAP. I’ll arrange a visit to Moretti, and let you know when it’s happening. I’m going to push for tomorrow, so work fast.”

“You got it.”

I toss the evidence folder on the dresser and lie down on the bed, my arms braced behind my head. Louise should be in a cab by now. She won’t come straight here, though. She’ll cool off first. As much as she hates relying on me, she won’t want to risk me walking away. Not that I have any intention of doing such a thing, and not only for Louise.

I hate traffickers. If it were up to me, I’d put a noose round the neck of every one of them, cut off their dicks, and invite the victims and their loved ones to watch the fuckers bleed out. I’ve seen too many families destroyed by the growing scourge of men who see an opportunity to get rich through acts of pure evil.

That’s why I lost it when we finally caught up with Moretti. The downside of those particular actions is that Moretti will now be less likely to give me what I want without coercion. Hence my call to Pavel. I guarantee Moretti will squeal like a stuck pig once I play my hand.

My stomach growls with hunger, but the half-eaten chocolate croissant from this morning seems unappealing, so I toss it in the trash and take a walk to the nearest diner. After sliding into a booth, I scan the plastic covered menu, order a ribeye steak, a plate of fries, and a large soda, then call up Rick’s number. Being on the outside of the force means I need Rick to arrange a visit to Moretti, and given how we left things after Moretti’s arrest, I’m not sure of the reception I’ll get.

“Hey, man. What’s up?”

Rick’s breezy greeting raises the hairs on the back of my neck. I expected a chillier welcome. “Why are you being so amenable? Got a girl sucking your dick?”

Rick laughs. “Not right now, no.”

“Well, something’s off.”

“Are you gonna spill what you want, or keep aggravating me until I tell you to fuck off?”

“I need to see Moretti.”

Rick sucks in a breath. “No can do, brother.”

“Find a way. You’ve got until tomorrow.”

“Come on, Draven. After what went down at his arrest, I can’t have you in the same room as the guy. He’s already itching to sue the city for police brutality. I’m trying to calm the situation, not inflame it.”

I dip my chin in thanks to the server as she sets down my soda. “This is important, Rick. I wouldn’t ask if there was any other way.”

“Does this have anything to do with Louise Rhodes?”

I somehow suppress my surprise. How the fuck does Rick know about Lola? I sure as hell haven’t told him. My skin itches. Rick’s not only a good-looking son of a bitch, but he’s a player, too. He’s stuck his dick inside half the single women of Newark, and I don’t like her name spilling from his lips. Not one fucking bit.

“Who?”

“Don’t play games. You know very well who I mean. I thought you were calling to rake me over the coals for telling her where to find you.”

I grind my teeth. Fuck. They must know each other well if Lola went to him for my contact info. It answers the question of how she tracked me down so easily after I left Jersey. Although, knowing that woman, she’d have found me eventually, anyway. It might have taken longer but, in the end, she’d have turned up on my doorstep.

“How do you two know each other?” I ask.

“We were at the academy together.”

And they’re still in touch nine years later? I flex my fingers repeatedly. Just how fucking close are they? Has he fucked her? I hope not for his sake.

“Arrange the Moretti visit, and I’ll let you keep your balls.”

Rick guffaws. “Fuck off. Until I told you right then, you didn’t even know I’d given her the intel.”

“But now I do, thanks to you.”

I let the silence linger—Rick’s steady breathing a sign he’s deploying the same tactic. There will only be one winner.

Me.

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