Page 53 of Deadly Little Sparrow

“We have meetings here, we don’t hang around the rest of the time,” I explain.

“If you have to sit around and talk business, might as well have some nice ass to stare at while you do it,” Elio reasons.

“Alright, you’ve sold me on the idea,” Sparrow says, joining Elio in an appreciative once-over of a passing dancer wearing nothing but a G-string barely containing the bulge of his dick, his bare ass sparkling with glitter under the lights.

There’s no denying the man is hot, but I doubt he could cut a biker’s throat without flinching.

On our way to our regular table, we pass Dante giving a lap dance at a table full of men who look like they stopped in during lunch hour and likely won’t bother returning to the office for the afternoon if the number of empty drinks in front of them is any indication. The guy he’s grinding on shoves a hand down the front of Dante’s jock to roughly grope at his cock.

I slow and notice Elio doing the same, his eyes narrowing at the asshole. Drunk or not, what kind of numbnuts doesn’t know the fucking ‘no touching the strippers’ rule? It’s posted on every wall of this damn place, and I thought that as a society we’d all internalized the message. Apparently not. But before either of us can step in, Dante grabs the man by the wrist, yanking the hand out of his underwear and twisting his arm until he yelps.

“That’s not included,” Dante says with a sweet purr in his voice, smiling as he twists the arm a little harder.

“Shit. I’ll pay extra,” the man offers, and Dante’s grin turns into a snarl that actually has the potential to get my dick hard, at least more so than any of the bare ass on display.

“Sweetie, I promise you that you don’t want to pay the price it costs to put your fucking hands on me.”

The man nods and holds his free hand up in surrender. Since it’s obvious Dante has the situation handled himself, we keep walking.

Lorenzo, Alessio, and Salvatore are all seated around the table by the time we get there. I take a few seconds to study Enzo while I pull out Sparrow’s chair and take a seat myself. The tight lines around his eyes are less intense this morning, so I’m guessing Alessio was right about him being with someone last night. Good, he needed some stress relief.

“Morning, boss.”

Enzo lifts his latte and nods in greeting before bringing it to his lips for a sip.

“Alright, so, murdering a bunch of bikers,” Sparrow says, getting straight to the point.

Enzo flattens his lips and Alessio chuckles.

“Hey, loose cannon, you ever heard of bugs and shit?” Alessio asks.

“Oh, am I supposed to talk in code or something? Sorry, I didn’t get my decoder ring in the mail or anything,” Sparrow mutters.

“You don’t have to talk in code, just have, like, five percent more chill,” Salvatore advises.

Sparrow rolls his eyes. “Fine. What’s the plan to deal with our mutual problem? Is that better?”

“Much,” Salvatore says, and we all turn our eyes towards Lorenzo since he’s the only one who holds the answer to that question.

“I have some thoughts,” Enzo confirms. “I think the simplest way to handle the situation is to send the Reapers the message that they’re no longer welcome in our city.”

“Meth labs explode all the time.” Sparrow pitches the idea for the second time this week and I bite back a grin. It’s actually not the worst idea, but it’s not my call.

Enzo takes another sip from his drink, seeming to consider the option.

“They have five cook houses that we know of, and if we really want to send a message, we need to cut off their supply line as well,” Enzo says.

“All their shipments come in on one boat,” Alessio says. Apparently they’ve all been doing their homework on the Sleepless Reapers. “They don’t own it, they just pay the guy a shitload to deliver it.”

“That’s easy then, we just pay him two shitloads not to deliver to them anymore,” Elio says, and Enzo nods in agreement.

“So, five packages, all set to go off at the same time, and a visit to the docks to make sure they can’t get a fresh supply in this city,” Salvatore summarizes. “And since I assume we don’t care whether the houses are empty before we light them up, it’s even easier.”

Lorenzo nods again, in agreement with the plan. It’s elegant in its simplicity, and the best part is, we can make it happen before the end of the week.

“I’m taking out Big Bass and Shit Stain myself,” Sparrow says, vibrating with the same ferocity that made me fall in love with him.

“When can we get this done?” Enzo asks, ignoring Sparrow’s demand.

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