Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
I’m more than a little frustrated. My entire day after finding the assholes who took Grace has been spent on the phone. First, I called Joe and then my contact on the local police force. Next, I called Vector. I let him know I had found Grace’s whereabouts. I warned him about the two men that had taken her, their names, as well as confirming they were part of the Wretched Rebels. I’m having Grunt follow-up with the Wretched Rebels and making sure they know Grace is off limits. If they are after her, there will be war. It’s up to them how they take that, but it’s not just a threat—it’s a promise. Honestly, I’m still unsure why those two assholes took her. I can’t figure out how Grace’s ex fits into any of this. Were they working for him? That doesn’t seem likely because if they did, I doubt he would have left them dead beside the road. At the very least, he would have taken them somewhere more private. The Bratva has a certain way of dealing with traitors and loose ends. Nothing about this is making sense—which definitely adds to my frustration. Vector once again offered help in getting Grace back and I thanked him but let him know I already had a call into the Levkin brothers and was pretty sure I had it under control. I did agree to call him if Ivan didn’t call me back and agree to help. I like Vector, but I saw the pain in Grace’s eyes when she had to talk to him. I wanted him to know that as much as I appreciated it, I needed to make sure my woman comes first, and their past had hurt her. I didn’t want to take part in reminding her of whatever happened between the two of them. Vector is a good man from all I’ve ever seen, but he hurt Grace that much is clear. Still, his fuck-up is clearly my gain.
Just as I’m about to open the door to the truck Hangman lent me, my cell rings. For a second, it feels like my heart flips hard in my chest. I stare at the caller ID, willing it to be from Grace. The name, however, is Ivan Levkin.
“This is Ford.”
“I got your message, Mr. Ford, and I can admit to being intrigued. What is it you think you can help me with?”
“It’s something I think we can help each other with, or at least I’m hoping so. You can drop the mister, too. Mr. Ford was my father, and he was a bastard. It’s just Ford.”
“Very well. I’m an extremely busy man. I’m still not quite sure how you got my direct number. I’m not exactly happy about it. I have my hands full at the moment. I don’t have time to chit-chat, Ford. You have about two minutes to convince me not to hang up. So, why don’t you get to the point?”
“I need to know where Benny Martelli is hiding out.”
The line goes silent for a minute. I’m not a novice at this shit. I figure he’s put me on mute. It takes about a minute before he comes back on the phone. In the background, I can hear a door open and close.
“Okay, you have my attention. Who exactly are you, Ford? How did you get my number, and how in the hell do you know that slime secretion, Martelli?”
“I got your number from Detective Garcia. He told me that if anyone knew where Benny was holding out since getting out of jail, it would be you.”
“Say this was true,” he hedges. “Why in the hell would I share this information with you? You’re nothing to me.”
“True. But you are in the business of gaining markers. My club and I have a lot of control in Virginia. I have quite a few allies along the East Coast. I’m a good marker to have in your back pocket.”
“I spend millions on tailored suits. There’s not a back pocket to be found,” the asshole responds.
“Well, that’s a damn shame. I’ve found if you don’t have a pocket, you’re often found unprepared,” I respond. I can be as snarky as he is. If this is going to be a contest on who has the bigger dick, I’ve never had a worry in that type of fight.
I hear Ivan snort and the creak of leather—as if he’s leaning back in a chair. “How do you know, Martelli?”
“I don’t—at least not personally. I’ve recently claimed a woman that Martelli was married to. He made her life hell. Apparently, he has decided to start again now that he’s out of jail. He’s kidnapped my woman. I need to know where the fucker is so I can squeeze the life out of him. I’m told if anyone knows where he’s hiding, it’d be you. The way I look at it, I’ll be ridding the world of a thorn in your side. It’s a win-win.”