Page 51 of Outlaw

I shot him a warning look. “Don’t,” I snarled.

He cackled with laughter. “Yep. Nothing to talk about. You’re fucking peachy.”

Using the knife in my hand, I pointed toward the bedroom of the apartment we were in. “Could you possibly go make yourself useful and help Locke?”

The disgust on his face as he looked around at the filth this man lived in told me that, no, he would not go help Locke. “Do you smell this place? I don’t want to touch anything.” He pushed off the wall, straightening, and took the cigar from his mouth. “Why do you think I lit this up? I’m trying to kill the stench.”

“That’s not going to work. He shit his pants,” I told him and headed over to the bedroom door to see if Locke had found the key yet.

He had taken out three dresser drawers and dumped them on the floor, flipped the mattress and sliced it open. Boxes had been tossed everywhere, and he was currently standing on a chair.

“Any luck?” I asked.

He glanced over at me. “No, but I should have looked here first. He had it hidden behind a poster. Took me a minute to think about the fact that the poster was in an odd location. Ripped it down, and here we are.”

I waited while he stuck the flat head screwdriver under the edge and popped the vent cover off. Reaching up, he pulled out a bag of white powder, then stuck it back. We weren’t here for cocaine. He felt around some more, and then the corner of his mouth curled as he pulled out a single key.

“Think we got it,” he said, then tossed it to me.

“I’ll call Bane. He can take Luther with him to check the warehouse and see if this is it while we stay here with Moe.”

Locke jumped down and dusted off his hands on his jeans. “I’m gonna need to take a shower with fucking bleach after this. The fucker is nasty.”

“He shit again!” Luther called from the other room. “Can’t we just kill him and leave?”

Locke smirked as I shook my head, then pressed Bane’s number.

“Locke found a key in the bedroom vent. Come get it and go test it. If it works, we will end this here and meet you there. Oh, and I’m sending Luther with you. I’m tired of him bitching about the smell.”

“Five minutes away,” he replied. “Send him out with the key.”

“Yeah.” I ended the call, sliding my phone back into my pocket.

Locke glanced past me and into the other room. “If he shit, can I just stay in here?”

Jesus, they could kill a man and then go have a drink and watch tits and ass dance on a pole, but they couldn’t handle filth and the scent of shit.

“Go on outside and keep an eye on things. If the fuckers he’s working with think we might be onto them, we could have company.”

Locke looked relieved. “On it.”

Luther was glowering at Moe, the idiot who had been hired by Marsha Conway’s people to get photos of Governor Baskin fucking a stripper, along with video for another grand.

Jericho Baskin was in office because we had put him there. Marsha Conway was some uptight bitch who was intent on running against him. She was already playing dirty. Once this was cleared up, we would have to pay her a visit and make sure this was the last time she pulled this shit.

If Baskin could keep his dick in his pants, that would be helpful, too, but the man liked to fuck college coeds, and we’d been covering up his tracks for years. In return, when we needed someone to look the other way, he made sure it happened. This was by far the most inconvenient instance because this place was disgusting. We’d all need bleach after.

“Here’s a key. Take it out to Bane, who is almost here. Y’all are going to test it.”

“Thank fuck,” Luther said in relief as he moved to take it.

I turned back to Moe, slid the knife into my back pocket, and crossed my arms over my chest. The other two men could not get out of here fast enough.

I waited until the door closed behind them before speaking. “I got shit to do, Moe. You’re wasting my time. If that key isn’t the right one, it’ll be your balls that come off next.”

His eyes were red-rimmed as his bottom lip trembled. “They’ll kill me,” he whispered like there was someone other than me who could hear him.

“Moe, I’m gonna kill you. That’s a given. But what we are wagering on here is how I’m gonna kill you. It can be fast and painless. Or I can drag it out for days. Endless torture,” I told him. “You ever been around pigs, Moe?”

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