Page 92 of Crush (Deadly Hearts 1)

“Dunno. He was driving somewhere.”

“Hmm…”

“Wait,” David says suddenly. “Don’t you have your own…you know…”

I raise an eyebrow at him in question. “My own gun?” I ask.

He nods.

“Sure, but I can hardly walk up to Jake and shoot him in the face with a Barrett M82 sniper rifle, can I?”

“Well, no…” he says. “But you can take him out from the opposite building or whatever? Sorry, not up on distance shooting, or any shooting, for that matter,” he adds.

“Do we even know where he is?” I ask.

“He is a financier in the banking district,” David informs me. “6th floor of the Royal Exchange Building.”

“Oh, really?” I murmur. I should’ve made it my business to know this, but he was never a threat before.

“What are you thinking?” Ramsey asks quietly.

“There is an apartment block on the opposite side of the road. If I can get in and positioned in the correct place, I could take him out. But an operation like this takes weeks of planning. I don’t know anything. I’m going in completely blind and that is dangerous.”

“Then we don’t do it that way,” Ramsey says. “We walk in the front door. He knows David works for Ruby. He can get you in.”

“How?” David croaks out, paling slightly.

“By being your usual charming self and putting that quick wit and sharp tongue to good use,” I say, placing my hand on his shoulder. “All I need you to do is get me next to Ruby. I’ll do the rest.”

“Oh-okay,” he stammers, gulping visibly. “What if they aren’t there?”

I hold out his phone to him. “Call and ask,” I say.

He takes it from me with a shaking hand. I know this isn’t ideal. I would rather be as far away from that fat bastard as I can be to take him out, but I’m putting too much at risk.

“They aren’t there,” David says a moment later, hanging up. “Jake is at Perfect Ten’s, the strip club on the other side of town.”

I growl. “Dammit, Ruby,” I mutter. This is just getting more and more difficult. That place attracts both men and women like flies to honey. It will be busy, even at this time of day.

“Actually, that could work,” David says suddenly. “We could poison his drink or something and be out of there in no time.”

I roll my eyes at him. Poison isn’t exactly my style, nor my MO.

“No, this is going to have to get up close and personal,” I say. “Ramsey, you drive.” I throw him my keys and stalk out of the back door of the club, with David and Ramsey close behind me, as grim faced as I feel.

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