Page 66 of Forgotten Comeback
The evening comes to an end, and I lock up Ace’s. I’m disappointed Taylor didn’t show for her training session. Not that I’m surprised, or that I would’ve had anything to say in my defense that I didn’t say last night.
Which was nothing.
I drive to Inferno’s club, joining the crew. “Dominic. How’s the concussion?” I tap my temple with my finger.
“Ready for round two when you are.” He cracks his knuckles.
I try not to laugh. “Sure, man. Name the time and place.”
“How about right now, pretty boy?” Dominic throws a wild punch.
With a smooth roll, I pat my mouth with a fake yawn.
“What’s going on?” Inferno appears dressed in black from head to toe. He’s wearing a full-face latex mask molded from John’s face, what Inferno’s face would look like without the scars. It’s a mind-fuck if ever there was one.
“Hey, John,” Dominic says, unable to tell the difference between my brothers. “Gavin and I were just goofing around.”
“Yeah, sure. Just goofing around.” As soon as I get the green light, I’m burying this motherfucker.
“Dominic, give me an update on Katarina Stefanos,” Inferno orders, adjusting the sunglasses covering his gray eyes. A wolf pack without our pack leader.It makes me uncomfortable that we’re keeping John out of the loop, but I’ll defer to his twin.
“She’s been holed up at a beach house in Surf City with Fabio Mazza,” he reports. “Place is gated and has a security system, so if we’re going to grab Kat, we’ll have to draw her away from the house.”
“Couldn’t you do that, being as you used to date her?” I comment, gauging my brother’s reaction.
“You didn’t mention you had history with the woman,” Inferno admonishes Dominic.
Dominic shrugs. “Didn’t realize it mattered.”
Inferno’s pager beeps, and he grabs it from his pocket. “Let’s roll.”
Our crew loads into the back of windowless cargo trucks, and I take a seat on the floor. Across from me, Dominic keeps shooting me the evil eye.
Keep digging that grave.
We arrive at the address given to us by Sal, and I get to work on picking the lock while the crew goes around busting the security cameras.
It takes over ten minutes, but I smile triumphantly when the lock pops open. Lifting the rolling door, Inferno flashes his light inside an empty building.
Cursing, I grab my phone and call Sal, wondering if the idiot gave us the wrong unit number. It goes straight to voicemail, and I hang up.
Inferno walks the perimeter of the building, not finding anything. “Let’s go,” he barks.
He pulls me to the side and tells me quietly, “Let Sal know we don’t appreciate being jerked around.”
“With pleasure.”
The anticipation of pounding Sal’s face propels me down the boardwalk. My eyes land on a curvy woman ahead of me, my stride faltering.
I could pick that voluptuous ass out of any lineup.
Figuring Taylor’s going to work, she surprises me when she veers in the opposite direction of the Diamond, toward the pier.Nearly losing her in the crowd, I weave in and out of people until I spot the red hair.
She exchanges something with the teenager behind the ticket window; good thing he’s behind glass, else he’d be drooling all over her.
Sorry, buddy, the Simping for Taylor Club isn’t accepting new members.
She grabs her tickets, disappearing in the throng of people.
