Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Shanti’s cousin, Jayden, was a cop. A hot cop with a wife that was “extra” (per Shanti).
I’d met him during a tense conversation where we learned the entirety of the Phoenix Metropolitan Police got a bulletin that they were not to assist the Angels in any way.
Mm-hmm, yeah.
We hadn’t been at our Angels gig for very long, but we already had a reputation.
Even if he was unhelpful when we were going to hit him up to be our man on the inside in the police department, it did not dull his hotness (he was that hot).
Though, Raye was right. He could probably advise on this.
“I’ll ask Shanti when she gets in.”
“We hitting up Byron today?” she asked.
“Yup,” I answered.
“Cool. I always get a thrill when we add to the team.”
She was nuts.
And I loved her.
“Samesies.”
“Ready to make some tips?”
“You betcha.”
Suited and booted, or in our case, clothed and aproned, we headed into SC.
“All together, or should just one of us go in?” Willow asked.
We were behind the bar, Raye, Willow and me, and we were watching Byron while strategizing our approach.
Of course, all he had to do was look up and he’d catch us watching him, so we weren’t exactly being stealth.
That meant we needed to figure this out pronto and get it done.
“I don’t think Tex would like it much if we all did it together,” Raye spoke truth, unless we were having an Angels Confab, which Tex (and Tito) horned in on without fail.
Tex, because he considered himself our vigilante mentor.
Tito, because he liked to be in the know about what his girls were up to.
Only in times like those, Tex didn’t mind how long we gabbed and didn’t work.
“Just one of us should go in. Being super cajz. I can do it,” I offered.
“Okay, yeah, right, good,” Raye agreed. “I’ll keep an eye on your tables.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I headed out from behind the bar, wondering why I volunteered, because, even if this was my idea, how exactly did you approach someone, share you were a member of an unpaid, vigilante investigations team, and you were recruiting a local computer guru?
Well, since I was on my way, I guessed I was just going to have to wing it.
On that decision, I strolled right up and sat down opposite Byron.
His body gave a slight jerk, and his eyes were round when he looked up from his computer to me.
He also, I thought tellingly, shifted his laptop so the screen was facing the corner.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“Uh…”—his gaze dropped down to my ass in the seat then came back up—“hey.”
“So, the girls have been talking, and we think you’re an internationally wanted hacker.”
I thought he’d laugh.
He didn’t laugh.
He swallowed nervously.
Holy shit!
“Are you?” I whispered.
“No,” he said quickly. Then asked, “What is this? You never sit down with me.”
“Actually, I was joking before. Though we girls have been talking, and we realized we’ve known you for years, but we don’t know you. You’re a good customer, and recently, you’ve taken our backs with some stuff…”
This was true.
When Willow’s ex chased her around SC, he got up to chase him to stop him from catching her (though, in the end, it was Harlow who accomplished that).
He’d also stuck up for me when Dream had been in, doing her normal: giving me shit. In so doing, he’d even gone so far as to declare me as “kind of” a little sister.
Not to mention, he’d manned the bar on occasion when things were going down, which was really beyond the call of duty, even for a regular.
“…so we thought it was high time to get to know you better.”
“Well, I’m not an internationally wanted hacker,” he said.
Good to know…even if I wasn’t sure I believed him.
“So, what do you do?” I asked.
“I have a variety of projects with a variety of clients,” he answered, though not very thoroughly.
It was then that I realized, over the years, I actually had made getting-to-know-you overtures. And Byron had always been vague. It had become such a thing, it became habit.
Therefore, I’d never really noticed how cagey he was.
Now I was noticing.
“Doing what?” I pressed.
“Are you…investigating me?” he inquired.
I was confused. “I’m a server. Why would I do that?”
“Because you’re an Angel.”
It was my turn to swallow nervously.
But I didn’t deny it.
I mean, being there every day, considering most of our Angels confabs happened behind the bar (and Byron was often on the opposite side, waiting to ask for another dirty chai), he’d have to be deaf and blind to miss it.
Not to mention, Byron had chased one of our bad guys around SC.
Even so…
“How do you know about that?” I asked.
“Because it’s all over the boards.”
Oh shit.
I didn’t know what “the boards” were, I just knew the Angels being “all over” them was not good.
“What boards?”
“The, you know…”—he leaned toward me—“boards.”