Page 3 of Dark OZ

Whereinthefuckwas Gigi? I swear, if that girl wasn’t so Oz damn useful, I would have cut her loose years ago—permanently. But she was annoyingly good at making friends with the right people, and those friends usually ended up lining my pockets. Albeit unknowingly.

I stared at the office building across the street, waving on a man who approached my cab. We picked Yellow Brick Cabs as our front for the anonymity that came with driving a cab around and the free pass to travel without a visa across the quadrant borders, but it also came with the annoying side of people trying to get a lift. It wouldn’t be a problem if Gigi hadn’t left me sitting on the road waiting for her late ass.

The only female member of the Northern Syndicate hired us to do a pick-up later today in the loading dock of Witcher Enterprises. Off the books, of course, the Syndicate had no clue about half the clandestine shit she was involved in. Not that I had any clue either; she hadn’t even told me what to do after I retrieved the mystery package.

Gigi was being unusually vague on this job. Which normally Danny would never allow. But her tips always paid off and were usuallybig. She said the contents of the package were sensitive and details being leaked were too high risk, even using encrypted lines, burner phones, and my own personally crafted anti-hacking software. So, it looked like vague was what we were doing now.

To make me even more twitchy, earlier today, while casing the building, I saw Kinland Branch’s supreme bitch in charge walk right through the front doors.

There were two people in the world I never wanted to see again. One of them was Eastin Witcher, and the other was her backstabbing cunt of a cousin, Westin. The unlikely event of Eastin being here on the same day I was robbing the Kinland branch was too much of a coincidence. I didn’t believe in those, and knowing Eastin was upstairs right now was enough to make my palms itch.

I sent Danny a text, informing him that she was now ten minutes late to the rendezvous.

I couldn’t shake the feeling. Gigi was fucking us, and not in a way that was going to be fun. We weren’t picking up something stolen from just any office building. I was smuggling something from Eastin herself. Whatever happened next would come back to bite us in the ass. I could feel it in my bones.

So why was I still sitting here? I should turn around and tell Gigi to shove her plans right up her perfectly round ass. I tapped a nervous rhythm against the steering wheel of my cab, glancing at my watch and then staring up at the penthouse windows. Truth was, I wanted nothing more than to fuck over the Witcher Empire.

Gigi had been clear, infuriatingly vague, but clear. Our cab was to be waiting outside the south doors of the office building. She would meet me there with more precise instructions at ten to midnight.

The building had been quiet for hours, but Eastin’s army of asskissers were all still upstairs. To make matters worse, a Cyclone Shipping truck had pulled into the garage an hour ago. Cyclone Shipping meant fucking with Emily Rosen and The Farm, another entity I had no desire to entangle my business with.

I looked at my watch again, the crystal face glinting in the light of the dash. 11:53. No Gigi. Fuck me sideways. This was a setup, and my dumb ass was just waiting here like a good little puppy.

I shifted the car into gear and flicked on my turn signal to pull out when the back door swung open. Before it had opened more than an inch, I had my gun trained to the dead center of her perfectly styled blonde head.

“If you’re going to be flashing a piece around, at least make it the one that doesn’t say Desert Eagle down the side. It’s more fun that way.”

A salaciously curvy body slid into the seat behind me, wearing a black leather jacket over a light pink blouse and tight leather pants. Gigi gave her hair a flick with a light laugh that sounded deceptively innocent. She’d be sexy as hell if I didn’t know she was a black widow in designer labels.

“Fucking hell, woman. You should be grateful all I did was pull it on you.” I still hadn’t lowered the muzzle, though. Gigi needed to start talking, and quick.

She pressed her full lips to the barrel, leaving a pink kiss mark over the word “Eagle.” I growled in frustration. Today was not the day to try and play off bad planning as flirtation.

“Now, be a good boy and put away your toys. We have work to do.”

I rolled my eyes and lowered the gun slightly.

All business now, her entire expression changed. The lines of those painted lips pressed flat. The edge of her jaw hardened as she raised her chin to me. “I just got confirmation that the package is intact. It will be arriving shortly. Details about delivery will be with the package.”

“Why can’t you just tell me now? You know, I do my job better when I can prepare for it.”

Ignoring my comment entirely, she continued, “I need you to bring the cab down to the loading dock. The gate is already up. Security is mostly upstairs; nothing you can’t handle. But be ready for anything. Delivery will be quick, possibly heated.”

I nodded, thinking through the scouting I’d done earlier. From what I had seen, the loading docks were two levels down in the garage, connecting to the north side of the building. There was only one exit, and that was lousy fucking planning. I was already wishing the rest of our team was here to help with surveillance, especially if delivery might come with a side helping of bullet spray.

“You couldn’t make it easy for a guy, could you Gi?”

“Once the package is secure, get the fuck out of here. I’ll be in touch.”

I winked at her, giving her the easy smile I always wore.

She shook her head. “And Crowe, watch your back.”

Chapter 3

Thedingoftheelevator echoed off of the stainless steel walls as we rose floor after floor. Each ear-splitting sound made the windowless confines feel like they were closing in on us. Henry’s grip on my arm was hard enough to radiate all the way to my raw wrists.

From the moment the truck stopped, everything went upside down. It felt like my entire sense of reality was being spun around in a tornado. Instead of the truck being emptied at a distribution center, Henry climbed into the back of the container and dragged me into what looked like a parking garage.

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