Page 137 of Ringer's Freedom

Brenna, Maria, and Sasha, who has already seen the ring many times, all fuss and gush over the giant rock.

“I hate to break this up, guys, but we got some shit to discuss,” Ghost announces as he leans back in his chair and stretches. “By the way, Maria, I need you to check in with Brit and Emery. I had a prospect watching the strip but haven’t heard from him in a bit.”

“Oh, okay.” Maria’s brows drop, and she pushes away from the table to walk toward the bar where her purse is sitting.

“I’ll be back, babe.” Ringer kisses the top of my head and heads to the back hallway.

“Give me your hand, you bitch,” Brenna says saucily.

I cackle at her eyebrow wag and reach my hand across the table at her. “Jeeezus,” she emphasizes.

“I know, right? I think I want to get something tattooed there so I don’t have to wear this to the bakery and risk breaking it.”

Brenna rears back, and her eyes widen. “Damn, girl. It’s that serious?”

I roll my eyes and laugh. “I mean, we are married, Brenna.”

“Well, yeah. Dang.” She nods her head and then shrugs. “I can come up with something if you want.”

“Yes, please!”

“You are crazy, but I got this.”

twenty-nine

Tiny

My cock hardensat the image of the blonde bombshell that just wrecked my entire fucking existence today. I’ve split today flipping between the internet search I did of Kourtney this morning and everything I’ve found about her and piecing together the shit storm I discovered while everyone was at the police station.

I’m currently situated in my spot at the table reading an article about a bank robbery that Kourtney successfully got lowered to a misdemeanor. How the fuck does someone, who was proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, get their charges lowered to a misdemeanor after a bank robbery that resulted in over two million dollars missing? How the fuck is that even possible?

I’ll tell you how; she’s a fucking sorceress that seeps into people’s souls. I’m convinced. How the fuck else has just the sight of her and a handful of simple sentences have me so goddamn enraptured with her?

Sorceress. She fucking has to be.

“Shit,” Ghost grumbles as he enters the room, followed by Tex, Reaper, Bones, Razor, Tank, Flame, Patch, and Ringer. “Trigger and Bull are on the way. We can start without ’em and fill in later.”

I plug the cords into the back of my laptop, quickly closing the page with Kourtney’s face plastered across it, and click on the arrest records of the two shit stains that were here last night. My computer screen mirrors onto the large touch screen across the room.

“Who are these two?” Reaper asks.

I push up from my chair and grab my wireless remote. I click on the wall to enlarge the first page. “This is Robert Brown, a 25-year-old felon who has been arrested on multiple charges of grand larceny, arson, petty theft, breaking and entering, and, my personal favorite, being a part of a group that runs a shitty chop shop.”

I can feel everyone’s skeptical eyes on the back of my head as I switch over to another screen. “Now, meet Jake Davidson, 26-years-old with arrests including all of the above, plus larceny that resulted in, you guessed it, running a chop shop. He did four years upstate in the same prison where you did your time, Ringer.”

Ringer’s brows furrow. “Zoom in on that picture.”

“I’ll do you one better.” I click through his arrests and select the one showing a mugshot from when he did time with Ringer.

When the mugshot enlarges on the screen, Ringer curses. “I’ll be fucking damned.”

“You know him?” Flame asks.

Ringer nods. “We were on laundry duty together. He stole a tool, and we went on lockdown. I never ratted on him, but when they found it on him, he was convinced I squealed since I was there when he stole it. If you ask me, it was his cellmate that ratted, probably because that’s who he was gonna fucking use it on. We got into it a few times in the courtyard, but he was too chicken shit to do anything.”

“That makes a little more sense. But once I discovered the connection, I still couldn’t figure out how these two fucking dropout idiots were able to outsmart my security or knew where we were going to be and when.”

“Get to it, Tiny. I’m fucking tired,” Ghost grumbles.

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