Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4)(88)
“Drop your weapons,” one of Exxum’s men said. “Now! Hands where I can see them.”
Jack spoke calmly. “Do as they say, doll.”
The word “doll” did the trick, and Elle’s attention snapped away from them and centered on Jack. Good, he needed her on her toes.
He threw the gun to the floor and then lifted his hands, pushing his forearm against the wall, clicking on the detonator on his wrist. Their location was perfect; they were wall-to-wall with the cars parked up front.
She must have realized what he was doing right before the explosion blasted her mind and her senses, leaving her disoriented only for a second. With smoke and broken glass flying all over, Jack burst into action and started dropping guys. This he could do with his eyes closed. This was his comfort zone. That’s what he’d been doing all his life, only now he had someone with him whom he cared for more than he could say, so half his attention was on her.
In the middle of the mayhem a man grabbed her, but she managed to punch him in the throat, getting him to stagger back. That was his girl.
She never saw the guy coming from behind until he knocked her down. She seemed to shake it off, but by then one of the bastards was pointing a gun at her.
Jack lunged for her, knocking her on the floor as the sound of the shot rang in his ears and pain tore through him.
“I knew you’d enjoy my present,” Exxum said, raising his glass.
Maldonado sat in the magnificent library, sipping a one-hundred-year-old whiskey with Exxum. He had more money than this entitled little brat and could afford hundreds of bottles of better whiskey yet they didn’t taste this good. There was something about old money. It bought respectability, never mind how corrupt and ruthless the methods of getting that wealth were. Him? He’d started as a smuggler, and regardless of his present status or possessions, all these high society types looked down on him. He could feel it. Scorn.
“I appreciate it.” He could have snatched the bitch by himself, but this little punk had to show him he could get to her first. Marking from the beginning who was the boss. This * had no clue whom he was dealing with. No clue whatsoever. Still, Maldonado was to benefit greatly from this business, so he could put up with moneybags for a while.
“Take some more,” Exxum encouraged, pointing at the tray with some weird-looking berries. “They come straight from Norway. One hundred percent organic. Handpicked. Best of the best. Great for relieving stress.”
Maldonado shook his head and sipped more of the whiskey.
The drink was good, unlike the food. Jesus, if he had to eat any more shit with a name he couldn’t pronounce and a taste he couldn’t decipher, he was going to shoot himself. Fucking seeds-munching, soy-pumping vegetarians. Vegans. Whatever the hell they were.
“Did you enjoy the meal? The black truffle seitan tasted like exquisite filet mignon. My cook is superb. I stole him from the most exclusive restaurant in Japan. He could make even a cleaning cloth taste like meat.”
So that was the name of that vile thing. Seitan. Fitting.
If it wouldn’t have been a huge slap in the face, Maldonado would have stayed on his boat to eat supper.
“Giving up meat is so rewarding,” Exxum continued. “Animal protein is very dangerous. Straight correlation to all sorts of cancer.”
Maldonado stifled a snort. Dangers of eating meat? Ha. Obviously this ass had no clue the shitstorm that a tiny olive could create. He could attest to that. His life had gone down the drain because of it.
“I don’t know. I prefer my meat bloody and coming from an animal.”
“It’ll grow on you,” Exxum assured him. “It’s an acquired taste. It takes a bit to get used to such exquisiteness.”
Maldonado drew in a calming breath. Some day he would show this snotty little brat who had exquisite taste, just not now. Now he needed his contacts. And more specifically his customs-cleared containers bringing Maldonado’s product into the US without risk of detection.
“Farming and ranching is so destructive for the planet. The number one reason for the decimation of the sea and the atmosphere. All the means of transport put together wouldn’t make it even close to the damage ranching causes. And the uncivilizedness of eating other animals is just barbaric. Unmoral.”
Blah, blah, blah. So much preaching was giving him indigestion. Or it was the seitan?
“Many would say we are the morally dubious ones. Worrying about animals and ignoring humans.”
Exxum scowled. “Animals are noble. Humans are an infestation, so as far as I’m concerned, providing the means to kill each other is just speeding the process of humanity’s self-destruction and saving the Earth a bit faster.”
An answer for everything. “Should we discuss numbers?” Maldonado asked, changing the subject. He had no desire to enter into a moral debate or spend more time than necessary with the likes of Exxum.
“If we must, then—”
A huge explosion drowned out the end of that sentence, the black sky outside lighting up with two blasts of fire, the sounds of gunshots following.
Nico dove for Maldonado, covering him, his gun drawn.
Exxum’s security chief did the same with his boss while everyone in the room drew their weapons, his men pointing at Exxum’s and the other way around.
“What is the meaning of this?” Maldonado asked. They already had that minor scare when some animal had tripped the motion detector a while back.