Page 97 of Brew
“Now, if you’d just told me that earlier, we wouldn’t have had all this...” I wave a hand at him, “nonsense, would we?”
Of course, all the men have to stay until we get to the bottom of this, because if he even dares lie about it, we know exactly where to come. Torturing him would’ve been fun if I’d had more time to draw it out, but what matters is intercepting the shipment.
“What about Ridgley?” Logan steps beside me. “Who answers to him, your handler?”
Dickface nods. “W-we’ve never seen him, we get orders from our handler, then he oversees the drop.”
My eyes light up. “He gonna be there tonight?”
Dickface nods.
“As far as the handler knows, we’re still on,” Hustler says from behind me. The old dog may be getting on, but he sure as shit is as sharp as a whistle, and only too happy to help out here at short notice. “You usually communicate by text?”
He nods to the bleeding man. “We h-have t-to check in right b-before the drop.” It’s garbled, but I can work it out. “If w-we d-don’t, he’ll k-know something’s up.”
We already have the cell, and Hustler waves it over his face to Face ID him. “Perfect,” Hustler says. “I wonder if Face ID works when someone’s dead?”
“Always one way to find out?” I suggest.
“N-no!” The man blurts, fuck he’s disgusting. I should just slice his face so I don’t have to see his ugly mug one second longer. “You’ll need me to get past the guards and onto the d-dock, t-think about it.”
“Your Handler, what’s his name?” I bark.
“Evans.”
This poses a problem, but only because I want to rip out his jugular.
It means we have to take him along. Since the others are dressed in combat gear, similar to us, it won’t be too hard to pass off as one of them.
This could actually work out perfectly.
“Lucky for you,” I say, stepping away. “You get to live for a couple more hours.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
Brew
I sit across the table from Erica and Olive as I sign that the meal is delicious.
Olive signs back, she agrees.
One side of my mouth lifts. “Very good.” I sign back. “Now show me the rest of the alphabet.”
“I’ve learned it all,” she says proudly.
I tut. “Gotta get the basics down, practice makes perfect.”
“And you sure you’re okay to help me?” Olive’s eyes dart from me to her mother, who’s sitting opposite me.
I flick my eyes to hers. “Of course. It would be a shame to put those skills to waste.”
Erica knows something’s up, and that I went out to do business, hence the late dinner. I told them they didn’t have to wait up for me, but Olive insisted since she’d helped with the casserole. It’s delicious, just like everything Erica makes.
We’ll stay here for the weekend until I can discuss with Erica my idea about the cabin. It’s a Plan B, but I still think it’s a good option. While they’re under this roof, I won’t let anythinghappen to them, but the fact is someone could be watching Erica’s every move.
That fucked up cult had connections, and Erica escaped. She knows their secrets. She had to testify. I shake my head at all that she’s suffered, and as her eyes soften, I know she knows I’m thinking about what’s best for her.
