Have Gun, Will Travel (The Bare Bones MC #5)(52)



I stood, but on my way up I took a side detour to nibble at his nipples through the flimsy cotton. I grinned to myself when he responded.

“Ah! Get the f*ck up here, woman! Now!”

I obeyed, but the temptation to nuzzle him with my mouth was too great. I might not get the chance to bind him like this again, if he turned out to be a by-the-book Dom. But now his phone clipped to his belt was chiming, and he was casting me the darkest look yet.

“Untie my hands, or I’ll make you answer that like a secretary.”





CHAPTER TWELVE




SAX


The sun wasn’t yet peeking over the edge of the Mogollon Rim as Sax rode his scoot up the dirt fire control road. He had managed to get some sleep before starting this job. Tobiah had not. He and his man from Leaves of Grass had been hauling his latest toy up the ridge from Geronimo Estates, the last stop on the paved road. Sax thought Tobiah just wanted an excuse to use his newest device, but Tobiah swore up and down that it would be vital in locating Tormenta. Especially now that it seemed he’d literally gone underground.

The tracker Sax had put on the Corvette and the credit card being used at the last gas station in Geronimo Estates had led them back to the Mogollon Rim. One of Sax’s old mining buddies had told him Tormenta had been rumored to have an underground bunker up there. He couldn’t be precise about the location, just somewhere above the hunting camps of the “estates.” The associate had heard he had a whole hideout underground, with water pumped from a creek, diesel-generated electricity, and an End of Days food cache.

Sax mostly thought about Beatrix as he rode. He’d intended on promising to 86 his subs if she told him the mystery of the abbey. It was a strange feeling, knowing he’d never see Sasha, Miss Manners, or Princess Ivanovna ever again. He’d been banging those women since Anna had gone off the rails eight years ago. Some were newer than others, but once Sax found a woman who was a fit for him, there was no reason to give her up for the sparse comforts of a Days Inn.

So he was in a monogamous, committed relationship now. His first since Anna. He had an old lady. I have an old lady. It all felt so new, mysterious, and challenging. She’d mentioned wanting another baby. Was he up to that after what had happened with Anna? His first son had been raised as his brother’s. The second one had spontaneously aborted much too soon. Was it just not in the f*cking cards for him? And, contrary to Beatrix’s belief, Sax thought with a bitter grin, he was not too old to raise a new one.

The staging area for the gyrocopter came up way sooner than Sax expected, even though it was only about three hundred yards from the crest of the rim. Up there, the Ponderosa pines thinned out, and boulders were strewn across the rocky mesa. The flatbed had been forced to leave the vehicle in an area cleared of pines, leaving them vulnerable to the eyes of any passing cartel clown. And, since the flatbed had a Leaves of Grass logo on the door, the weed cultivator, Crybaby, had driven it farther into the forest. True to his name, he sat cringing in the driver’s seat, waiting for something dangerous to happen. Sax parked his ride back there away from the road. Tobiah, to his credit, was crawling all over his tiny helicopter making sure things were up to par. For a bowl-headed nerd who had likely been the ultimate recipient of Indian burns and noogies in school, he’d turned out to be pretty brave. Maybe being tormented had an upside to it.

Wolf saluted Sax. “Boss. I accompanied the vehicle up the mountain a few hours ago. No one has driven by since, but I suggest we get this thing in the air pronto, the better to catch the perps. I’d like to be home by lunch. I’ve got an important Costco run to make.”

Sax knew that Wolf was shitting him. But he’d like to be home by lunch too. He’d left Bee strict instructions not to leave his house, to stay put until he returned. Until they actually took out Tormenta—and even after that if he had enough loyal, vengeful goons—he didn’t want Bee going anywhere unaccompanied.

Sax told his Prospect, “Lytton’s inspector got back to us. He went through that nail salon’s payroll. Nearly half the women weren’t being paid at all. The other half didn’t even begin to approach minimum wage. Major f*cking scam.”

“Total sweatshop,” agreed Wolf. “He’s got a hundred of those salons across the state in his back pocket. Who knows how many impoverished Mexicans he’s taken advantage of? How many more vics have to fall prey to his endless quest for Benjamins?”

Sax snorted. He knew Wolf hadn’t suddenly developed a charitable side, all concerned about undocumented migrant workers. He just wanted to find an excuse for why he was so gung-ho about getting this guy. That was all right. Guys could fool themselves as to what their motives were as long as the end results paid off. The end justified the means.

Tobiah’s gyro was built for one and had no enclosed cockpit. Sax was glad it wasn’t painted bright red or yellow like most he’d seen. In fact, it looked homemade.

“I can land in a very small space.” Tobiah explained the size of the clearing. “I’ve landed before between two Quonset huts up at Leaves of Grass, maybe the size of a putting green. I can take off from this dirt road. This baby can fly slower and lower than anything else, so I can scope out any potential hatches or anything suspicious in the ground.”

Sax nodded. “Good man. You know the terrain, the general area we’re trying to scope out.”

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