Page 61 of Breaking Conviction

There was a pause. “Oh, so youdon’tknow? Interestin’. Well, I’m sure you can puzzle out the pieces yourself, for now.”

Dean felt the phone crack under the pressure in his hand. “Is Naomi at BlackStone?” How his voice came out so calm, he had no idea. Inside, he was a boiling vat of oil, ready to maim anyone who tipped him over the edge.

The pause told him everything he needed to know. He’d have to figure that situation out for himself, it seemed.

“I’m callin’ about Ascot,” he pivoted.

“Ah, right. Yeah, what’s the angle with that? I know Vlad’s got you on that job. I thought that was why we couldn’t find him at first. But it wasyourmen who got beat up today. So what the fuck’s the deal?” Each word was more slurred than the next. Some guys just couldn’t handle their liquor.

“Yeah, well, it seems one job’s gone south, so I’m resortin’ to the other. I doubt Ascot’s gonna come outta that facility alive and we need to control that situation to get the cut.”

“I dunno, man. We good guys don’t kill people, you know. He might get let go.”

Dean scoffed. “It’s hilarious you still think you’re one of the good guys.”

“Hey now, I’m an opportunist, and opportunitiesarea good thing. Speakin’ of which, what’s in this for me?”

“Don’t wanna do somethin’ outta the goodness of your own black heart, huh?”

The laughter on the other line was loud and genuine. “Nope. I left that life a couple years ago, man. Tried it. Realized money was better. After what Vlad’s promised me, I ain’t never goin’ back.”

“Well, how ‘bout this. If you help me, and this goes good, I’ll tell Vlad the extent of your involvement.”

“Hm… what if it goes bad?”

Once Dean told Vlad his plan, there was no way the Russian wouldn’t lend a helping hand. When Vlad was involved, shit got fucking done. Fuck, he might even be scarier than the boss man himself. Dean wasn’t worried about that, but the other guy obviously was.

“Well then, I’ll tell Vlad the extent of your involvement… and maybe make you sound extra liable with a few lil’ white lies.”

“And if I don’t help at all? I’ve got a pretty good gig goin’ right now, my dude.”

Dean chuckled. “We both know you’re not gonna do that. You get high on the risks.”

The man on the other end grumbled. “Fine, fucker. I’ll do it, but this better not blow back on me. I’ve got it good right now.”

“Can’t promise anything, asshole. Except, if Naomiisat BlackStone, I’mma remedy that real quick.”

The guy huffed out a gruff laugh. “Who knows? Maybe you can kill two birds with one stone. Later.”

The call ended and Dean stared at the black screen. It was an idea. Good or bad, he wasn’t sure yet. He’d have to investigate. Until then, he’d try another avenue first. If that failed, well, there was always a plan B.

Two birds. One bomb.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Define good.

Naomi gulped at the innuendo and wrung her hands as she stared at the text Wes sent her hours earlier. He and the rest of the crew had been gone all day, and all she’d had on her agenda for the weekend was to watchBravefor the trillionth time, worry about her future, and dream about everything that godforsaken text hinted at.

She cursed and stirred the dough harder. Her recipe called for a handheld mixer, but for one thing, apparently bachelors didn’t see the need for one. If she’d known that, she would’ve asked Wes to pick one up when he’d gone shopping for her. Second, it was helping her channel her stress and pent-up… aggression.

Finally, the dough was mixed so well she was doing more harm than good. She hated cookies that weren’t soft and chewy and aerating the dough would do just the opposite.

She grabbed an ice cream scoop—thatapparently was an essential item in a bachelor pad— and slammed scoop-sized cookies onto the tray until she got lost in the rhythm.

“What’d the cookie dough ever do to you?”

The ice cream scoop clattered onto the metal sheet and she cursed under her breath before jutting a finger against Wes’s deliciously firm chest.