Page 266 of Sticks and Stones
“Well, good work on the first one. Call me for the second. I’ll pass this one off to the team. We have transport waiting for all of them.”
That worked for Gene. As far as he cared, he hoped the assholes were taking a one-way trip to Hell.
“We need his phone.”
Honestly, Lewis didn’t care if they kept them.
The FBI and CIA told him to have the men transported. Their phones weren’t a priority. They planned on interrogating them to figure out how that nasty-ass drug got back into the States after El Gato’s death.
“That’s fine,” he said, dragging the man through the house.
“Do you need help with that sack of shit?” Gene asked. “Oh, be careful. Don’t hit his head on every hard object on your way out,” he added, sarcastically.
He laughed.
“No. I’ve got it. Get the next people here. No one wants to do this all night long.”
Wasn’t that the truth?
With Ethan at the helm, he sent the text out to two of Renegade’s crew, but only after reading the texts he’d sent to them that day.
Just to be safe.
After he hit send, Gene focused on getting the scene cleaned up so when the men arrived, they wouldn’t be suspicious.
“I texted Rebel and Nomad. I told them to hustle because the heat was on and to pack for a trip. They were moving out tonight after the merchandise was ready.”
Gene laughed.
“Uh, that sounds like you’ve typed those messages before.”
He snorted.
“No, I went into the man’s other texts and used phrases he’s said before. Now, as for those two, Rebel has fewer criminal charges. We might be able to break him,” he admitted.
Gene leaned against the wall, listening to what charges the dude had caught.
“He made a bomb out of a pipe and accidentally blew up his shed. He’s got plenty of speeding tickets and a battery charge on a woman with the same last name. I’ll guess his wife, family member, or ex.”
Gene corrected him.
“The correct terminology is‘his old lady’. You know in case we ever do undercover again.”
Ethan grinned.
“I mean, I loved the last time. It was…stimulating. I don’t dislike undercover work with you.”
Oh, Gene was well aware of how stimulating it was, and as for the reason…
A wild Tala was a hot Tala.
“Maybe you can reenact that later,” Gene suggested. “I’ve missed Tala. I planned on molesting him on a beach, but here we are in a smelly, motorcycle-dude’s shithole.”
He wanted that.
Definitely.
“We can make that happen,” he admitted. “Tala misses you and your dick. I still want all of you in me,” he admitted.
