Wretched (Never After Series)(33)

Finally, he cracks a grin. “You’re a heartless bastard, man.”

I shrug, forcing a weak smile.

That wasn’t why I fucked her. But I’m not lying now. At the end of the day, Eveline is the enemy.

Not my friend.

Not my lover.

Not my anything.





16





NICHOLAS





There’s an abandoned warehouse in the middle of Kinland. At least, to the wandering eye, it seems as though it’s abandoned. Being here now, it’s clear that isn’t the case.

Liam, Zeke, and Farrell are all here, along with a few other lower-level associates that I’ve seen in passing but haven’t gotten to know yet. One of them isn’t even in our files, and I make a note to try and find out more about him later. But right now, it doesn’t matter.

What matters are the crates of weapons staring me in the face and making my heart beat out of my chest.

Holy shit.

It’s dark out here, the stars and the beam of the headlights from our cars the only source of light and Zeke grins, popping open the back of the SUV. “Come on, boys, it’s not gonna move itself.”

I lean in toward Liam. “We’re in the gun business now?”

He side-eyes me but doesn’t respond. Clearly, he still isn’t over the other week.

“We need to check ’em, Skip?” he asks, lifting up the top of one of the long wooden crates and peering inside.

Farrell laughs, perching against the bumper of his car, puffing on a Black & Mild. “They’re good.”

Zeke smiles. “Let’s load ’em up.”

I glance around, the burner phone in my pocket sending anxiety racing through me. My guys know we’re here tonight, but we were under the assumption this was going to be a drug pickup. Not guns. We passed on the info to the local PD, hoping a quick bust would ruffle some feathers, maybe get some mouths to talk without letting them know they’ve got the DEA’s attention. But with every second the PD doesn’t show, my anxiety winds tighter.

A phone pings and Farrell drags his cell out, a cloud of smoke swirling around him while he looks down at whatever’s on the screen. His face changes, and his head snaps up, his eyes bouncing from one guy to the next.

My stomach twists.

“Hurry up,” he snaps. “We’ve got company. Ten minutes out.”

My heart stalls, dropping to the ground. Is there… does he have a connection in the PD?

Of fucking course he does.

I grip one of the crates, my muscles burning as I carry it to the back of the SUV and load it in the trunk, my eyes scanning the area every few seconds, willing the cops to appear. The guns are heavy as fuck and clunky as hell, but it gives me something to do besides focus on the fact that somehow Farrell knows people are on their way.

“Company?” I ask, swiping my hand through my hair.

Farrell walks over to me, resting a hand on my shoulder, his eyes penetrating as they stare directly into mine. “You and those questions.” He puffs on his cigar before letting the smoke blow in my face. “Just like my ma, yeah? Always so many fucking questions.”

Blood races through my veins, my fingers twitching as I debate whether I need to pull my gun. I swallow, shrugging my shoulders. “Just trying to be the best at what I do, Skip.”

“Hmm.” His grip tightens. “Knowledge is power and all that?”

“Exactly.” I grin.

He brings the Black & Mild up to his mouth again and grins around it, his teeth chomping into the filtered tip. “Good man. Now shut the fuck up and load my shit.” Spinning away from me, he gestures toward his car. “Zeke, let’s go. Now.”

My muscles are frozen in place, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Jesus Christ.

Zeke looks back toward us, one leg already in the driver’s side of Farrell’s car. “If you fucks get pulled in, I’ll kill you myself.”

His eyes meet mine and hold for just a second too long. I jerk my chin, hoping it gives him a sense of safety, one that I definitely don’t feel. Because the truth is, while I wish I could guarantee Zeke’s safety, I can’t. Not when I can’t even guarantee my own.

I watch as red taillights disappear into the distance, going over a hill until they disappear entirely.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Liam yells. “Get over here and help. For the love of God, it’s like you’ve got no sense in your fuckin’ head.”

My heart hammers in my chest and I spin around, realizing there are still a dozen crates in the warehouse, but the boys have stopped loading. One of them slams the trunk down and runs to the driver’s side door.

Liam has a gas can that he’s rushing toward the warehouse with.

Where the hell did that come from?

He starts pouring the gasoline along the perimeter, dousing the grassy areas. I stand still, my mind racing as I try to figure out how I can keep this from happening.

I glance behind me, hoping like hell that I see cars coming around the bend, but I don’t.

Liam waltzes up to me, wiping his sweaty forehead with the sleeve of his arm. Then he tosses me a box of matches. “Light it up for me, yeah?”

I look down to the matches and over to the warehouse before meeting Liam’s eyes. “But there’re still crates.”