Page 6
Story: Royally Arranged
As we descended the escalator toward the luggage area, I spotted a man holding a sign with the nameMAVERICKBon it. My father waved, then the mustached stranger helped us gather our things and cart them into the trunk of a massive black town car.
When we were inside, the doors slamming shut, I said under my breath, “Are we not going byeitherof our surnames here?”
His jaw tensed. “Don’t be stupid, son. I’m not announcing to the world that we’re here. Not until I know more about the situation.”
“Okay, and who’s going to give us all the details?”
He pulled out his phone and started to type. “An old friend. Hopefully they’re still a friend, anyway. It’s possible he won’t even take the message I sent ahead of us and want to meet me. Or he will, and he’ll plan an ambush.”
Lolling my head back, I spread my knees. “I sure feel comfortable about all our weapons being dismantled in cases in the trunk right now.”
“Relax. Rush and Donnie are armed and waiting at our hotel.”
That made my head snap forward. “They’re here? Are you planning to keep all the details of our little trip to yourself?”
“It wasn’t an important detail.”
“I want my gun back in my hands as soon as we get to our rooms.”
He turned off his phone. “Fine. Anything else?”
“If you’re taking requests, I’d also like a stiff drink after that flight.”
“It’s nine in the morning, Thorne.”
“Sure,here. I’m still on East Coast time.”
“Is everything a damn joke to you?” he growled, facing me in the suddenly small car.
Our driver had closed the partition between him and us. I glanced at it, then back to my dad. “I’m just trying to ease the tension.”
“Maybe you should try to take this more seriously instead.” Shoving his phone into his pants, he draped a thick arm over the back of the seat next to him. “After everything that went down last winter with the Valentines, I was starting to think you could be trusted with more responsibility. You’re proving me wrong with your little games.”
“Yeah?” I laughed. “It’s like you forgot you were the one who asked me to come on this trip. I never asked to be a part of your reunion.”
The car slowed to a halt, we’d arrived at the hotel. “You forget your place, son.”
“My place is back home with two girls in my lap and some whiskey in my stomach.” I shoved my way out of the car, slamming the door behind me. Why the hell had I agreed to torture myself by spending so much time alone with my dad? In my sympathy over his loss of his brother, I’d forgotten how good he was at getting under my skin.
Seconds after we checked into the Rizenburgh, Donnie—our longest-employed bodyguard—hustled to my father’s side. “Upstairs,” he whispered, handing us a key card. “He’s waiting for you in my room.”
“He?” Maverick asked. “You don’t mean he came alone?”
Donnie shrugged. “I was surprised, too. He said he didn’t need anyone to protect him from you, though.”
A rare smile spread on my dad’s lips. “Of course he said that. Crazy asshole.” Glancing at me, he motioned to follow him to the elevator. Quick enough, the doors parted back open with a crystal clear ring of a bell, depositing us on the fourth floor.
The hallway was long, the rugs green and yellow, the doors solid metal. The Rizenburgh Hotel was a mix of contemporary and old school, like they’d made upgrades on top of the fading pieces but never actually replaced them. New polish was apparently good enough.
I could see, at the end of the hall, a door with two men standing outside. Both watched us approach. I knew these men—they were all ours. Dad had brought plenty of backup. Maybe too much, if there was only one man inside the room waiting for us.
Using Donnie’s card, my father opened the door. It was a small room—harder to hide people. A smart precaution. Big windows faced the city of Maurine below, the sun turning all the wallpaper a washed-out white.
Standing beside the queen bed, making it look like a twin in comparison, was a huge man with a reddish beard. It faded into hair darker by a shade or two, the thick pieces cropped tight by his ears.
He was dressed in tan pants, heavy boots, and a dark blue shirt with the top three buttons clasped shut. It covered his arms, straining to hold his muscles in. He came close, sizing me up. “I’ll be damned. He looks just like you, Mav.”
I knotted my eyebrows. “Usually people say compliments when they first meet. Helps them get along.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
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- Page 5
- Page 6 (Reading here)
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