Page 4 of Carver
It was never easy when innocent people were involved. They would need to be relocated to a safe place, ideally with someone equipped to give them a fresh start. He knew who could help him, though he wasn’t sure if they had the time to take the additional load on at the moment.
Picking up his phone, he ignored Trix’s curious gaze as he dialed the other person he needed to get on board if he was going to take on Tank’s mission. The phone rang twice, then a familiar Southern accent coasted over the line.
“Bellport,” they answered.
“Royce, it’s me, Carver.”
“I’m well aware who you are. What do you need?”
They were always straight to the point. It made for sometimes stilted conversation. Trix raised his brows at the abrupt reply from Royce. Carver realized his phone was loud enough to be heard in the small office space.
“You remember when we made that agreement a while back about helping people? I’d agreed to sending anyone your way that needed assistance beyond my scope.”
“I do recall such a conversation. Who and when?” There were clicking noises on the other end of the line. Carver suspected Royce would be making note of everything he said. They were meticulous that way.
“The specific number is unknown. We’re breaking up a trafficking operation. All I can say for now is that there are several survivors in her care.”
“Her?!” It was the first true emotion they’d given on the call. Carver could only imagine the expression they wore.
Fury filled the air despite Royce not being there. Their rage blasted across the phone line, enough that even Trix squirmed.
Carver replied, “Yes, her. A woman is the head of this one. As I said, we need to get the people?—”
“To safety. I’m aware of what you need. Give me a few hours to set up a drop off location. I’ll text it to you, along with the pick-up point for the truck you’ll need.”
“You’re quick to agree.”
“Yes, well, I figured it’s what you want. No point in making you drag this out any longer. I have other business to attend to. I’ll be in touch.” With that, they hung up the phone.
Left to wonder what the hell that was all about, Carver decided it was best to move forward. If Royce said they’d coordinate the transport and relocation of the survivors, then that’s what they’d do. They had enough connections thanks to their family name that he understood they’d be able avoid a lot of the red tape the Angels of Ruin couldn’t.
It was one of the main reasons he’d called them.
Royce was in the business of taking care of things. Whether it was this or something more on the legal spectrum of things, they’d get it settled.
“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting him,” Trix said with a sly grin.
Carver shook his head. “Them. You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting them.”
“Ah, I see. They/them. Got it. Still want to meet them though.”
His wink made Carver roll his eyes. Trix was such a fucking hellion sometimes. If he wasn’t one of Carver’s favorite people, then he’d have sent him away a long time ago.
“You just earned yourself a spot here when it’s time to do the drop off,” Carver told him, his expression stern. “We’re not going to burn bridges because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”
Trix was an equal opportunity lover. He didn’t care about gender or ethnicity the way some people had preferences. He claimed if the ‘vibe’ was right, then he was down to fuck.
He pressed his hands to his chest as he widened his eyes. “Oh, boss. I’m so offended you think I would interrupt a mission with a booty call. I merely want to see if they’re as good looking as they sound.”
“They’re equally as gorgeous as they are handsome. That’s all you’re getting from me right now. Go tell Slash to grab Silver, Slayer, and Hex. We need to hold a meeting.”
The minute Trix left the room, Carver dialed Tank’s number. He answered on the second ring.
“Yes?”
“We’ll do it. I’ll be in touch when I have an update.”
Tank made a noise of frustration. “An update on what? When is it going down? Do my guys need to meet you?”