Page 73 of Cup of Lies

LuLu called me last week, which was surprising. I didn’t expect to ever hear from her again, but we did form an almost sibling connection when I was tricked into believing she was my little sister. It’s hard to reverse those feelings. When she asked if she could come visit, once confirming we had Romy, I couldn’t deny her.

Just like I couldn’t tell her no when she demanded to go with us on this mission.

Maybe this will bring some closure in her life. One can only hope.

Romy slides her hand over to me. I uncurl my tight fist to accept her soft one in mine. This woman unwinds me in ways I don’t understand. There’s a certain level of safety I feel with her. My whole life has been a facade, but this deep connection with her feels like the only real part, therefore, I desperately cling to it.

“Maybe we can stay a few days before we do the deed,” Nees says as Lake Erie comes into view. “I need a vacation. I bet there are some cool-ass lakeside cabins we could stay at.”

“Koyn says we’re in and out,” I remind him. “You have a lake back home. In fact, doesn’t your dad live right on the lake?”

“There aren’t hot chicks running around in bikinis,” Nees explains, thrusting his hand toward a beach area where women in swimsuits can be seen. “In fact, the only person who runs around in a bikini is Stormy, and I don’t want to see that.”

Stormy is gorgeous, but she’s his dad’s woman, so I can understand being grossed out by that.

“You severely overestimate your male prowess,” LuLu says from beside him. “At least at the lake back home, you won’t have to live with crushing rejection.”

Nees turns to gape at her. “Thanks, kid. Thanks a lot for that.”

I smirk at Romy, who grins at their exchange, clearly entertained by LuLu. The thing is, Nees is a good-looking guy. He spends time at the gym, has those classically handsome looks like his father, and is covered in artful tattoos. The guy rides a Harley and can handle a weapon well. In all fairness to him, he could probably have any woman he wants.

“If I were single, I’d hit that,” Romy offers, playfully elbowing me.

“You’re not single,” I growl. “You’re mine.”

Nees barks out a laugh. “Hell yeah. Hear that, DeLuLu? I’m fine as fuck. Pregnant chicks want to suck my—”

Thankfully, his phone rings, ending that dangerous line of thought. I’d hate to have to kill him the next time we exit the vehicle.

“Did he seriously call me DeLuLu?” LuLu asks with a huff.

“You did insult him,” I remind her.

“Got it, Prez. See you in three.” Nees mashes the end call button and points to a cheap motel. “He got us some rooms and Filter went to get pizza. Meeting ASAP.”

The reality of the situation settles heavily on the four of us. While this may have been a playful road trip to Pennsylvania from Oklahoma thus far, nothing about what’s coming will be fun.

We’re here to shut down Solomon Greyhawk’s filthy operation.

The shipping container yard looks a lot different than I last saw it this past winter. Sun shines down on the sky-high stacks of colored, rusty metal—not a snowflake in sight. It’s strange to think such an industrial, nondescript place could be where Solomon handles most of his trafficking.

And yet, here we are.

Solomon is good—keeping most of his dealings hidden through phone calls and face-to-face meetings, but still left a trail. With my help, Koyn and Bermuda were able to sift through all of Solomon’s digital records to get a feel for his dark operation.

Weeding out these monsters takes careful planning and precision. Learning Solomon’s trading patterns and choosing stealth will give us a more sufficient victory than us going in guns blazing.

“The goal,” Koyn tells us from an outcropping of trees behind a fenced-in industrial complex, “is to get in and get out. No drama.” He eyes Dragon pointedly. “No theatrics.”

Dragon pretends to pout. “No fun either.”

Koyn ignores him and continues. “We have a local chapter nearby who owes me some favors. They’re rough around the edges, but they don’t hurt women or kids. Whoever we rescue from here will go there. I have them on standby.”

“Why are we doing this in broad daylight again, Prez?” Bizzy asks, scrunching his round, bearded face. “I ain’t exactly someone who blends in or moves fast for that matter.”

Nees snorts out a laugh and Filter thumps him on the head.

“Stick to your part,” Koyn grumbles. “Check the containers while we eliminate any threats.”

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