Page 9

9

TYSON

S oft jazz music from my playlist plays on the Bluetooth speaker on the small table in the corner of the room. I hum along with the song as I go over my latest numbers. Everything is looking pretty good. Ordinarily, there are minor discrepancies. Not much. Just enough to tell me a few of my guys are skimming a bit off the top.

Normally, I don’t really care. It’s the cost of doing business with dirtbags. They tend to steal and think they’re smart enough to get away with it. They’re not. I just usually look the other way so long as their fingers don’t get too sticky. But having everything lining up to the penny is rare. Makes me think word about my dispute with Rico and Dawson has gotten around, and my employees are going to act straight. At least for a little while.

I go through and double-check my numbers, satisfied that everything is right. Closing the ledger, I sit back in my chair, close my eyes, and let the music wash over me. I’m in a good mood and can’t stop thinking about having Tabitha the other day. Sexy and insatiable, she’s everything I thought she’d be and more. She’s got such a sweet, innocent look about her that I never expected her to be so dirty. She’s just full of surprises.

The memory of having her bent over my desk, hearing her calling me Daddy, and hearing that filthy little mouth gets me hard all over again. She’s a surprisingly dirty little girl, and I like it. A lot. As I remember the way she tasted and felt, so wet and tight, and having my cock so deep in that sweet hole, my dick starts throbbing, begging for release once more. I’m going to have to do something about it. I need to fuck her again.

I’ve never had somebody like her before. I’ve never been so turned on, and nobody has ever gotten under my skin like she has. Beyond the mind-blowing sex, simply talking to Tabitha has lit a fire inside me that’s never burned before. I feel like I connect with her on a level I never knew existed within me. She’s fascinating. She’s hilarious. And she’s intelligent. The long, deep conversations we’ve had together have nourished my soul in ways I never expected. It’s fed parts of me I never realized were starving.

I’m not normally the romantic type, nor the sort who waxes poetic. But something about Tabitha makes me feel like I am. She honestly makes me feel things I’ve never felt before and has opened doors inside me I never knew were there. She has turned me upside down. I’m not a man who likes change. I tend to resist it at every turn. But the changes Tabitha is wreaking inside me are exhilarating. They’re exciting. Even more disconcerting is that I welcome them.

More than that, being with somebody like Tabitha, somebody who is genuinely good and has a good heart, has sparked more changes within me. I’ve always thought about getting out of the game and going legit. I’ve never believed I’d be part of this life forever. But Tabitha has started me thinking that maybe I can actually make that turn. That maybe I should accelerate my timeline and build a better life for myself. And for her.

I honestly have no idea how this has happened. In the beginning, I thought Tabitha would be an amusing distraction. I thought she’d be fun to mess around with. What I never anticipated was the effect she was going to have on me. I never expected that she would impact me on the level she has, nor get so deep under my skin. And I really never foresaw myself, a loner by nature, thinking about her just about every single minute of the day. It’s just never been who I am.

But here I am. When I’m not with her, I’m either thinking about her or planning the next time I get to see her. I don’t understand how it happened. But she’s ten times more addicting than any drug I’ve ever done. The more I get to know her, the more I learn about her, the more I want to know and learn. She has me craving her in ways I never thought I’d crave anybody. It’s confounding, but at the same time, it—no, she—is intoxicating.

The door to my office opens, and Marco steps in. His body is taut, his expression dark, telling me that something happened, and whatever it is, it’s not good. Sitting up, I grab my phone and shut off the music, plunging my office into silence. He closes the door and crosses the room, dropping heavily into the chair in front of my desk.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Tommy and Max got jacked last night.”

“They okay?”

He shakes his head. “Dead. Both of them.”

“What the fuck happened?”

“Still trying to piece it together, but from what I’ve been able to dig up so far, it looks like two guys in masks got the jump on them, got them down on their knees, and executed them. Two in the back of the head,” Marco says, miming the act of shooting. “Snatched the product, and the money then disappeared. Still in the wind.”

“And nobody knows who it was?”

He shakes his head. “If they do, nobody’s talking.”

I sit back again and drum my fingers on my desk. Dealers getting jacked isn’t a new thing. It happens. But I tend to run such a tight ship and am always out in the streets keeping an eye on things that it’s minimal within my organization. In those odd instances when one of my guys gets jacked, retribution has always been swift and brutal. Because of the tight grip I keep on things, it’s been quite a while since it’s happened to me. Fear is a useful tool and an effective deterrent.

“So, who’s got the balls to jack me?” I ask.

“We’re still looking into it.”

“Can’t imagine it’s any of the pussy street gangs we ran out of town years ago.”

“It’s possible a couple of them grew some balls.”

“Doubtful. I think we made our point about coming into our territory more than clear.”

“Some people are stupid and need repeat lessons.”

It’s possible, sure. But something is telling me this isn’t one of those times. Something in the back of my mind is telling me this is different. We made it more than clear that we don’t tolerate outsiders trying to poach business in our area, and for a long while, there has been peace out on the streets. I don’t see one of my former rivals breaking that peace by doing something so reckless and stupid.

“What are you thinking?” Marco asks.

“I’m thinking this isn’t one of the idiots we ran out of town.”

“No?”

I shake my head. “Nah. I don’t think this is them.”

“All right. Enlighten me then.”

“It’s Rico and Dawson.”

Marco pulls a face. “No way.”

The more I think about it, the more it feels right. And the surer I am. I nod. “Yeah. This is them.”

“They don’t have the balls.”

“Like you said, stupid people do stupid things.”

Marco sits back and seems to ponder it for a moment. “Okay, so what are we going to do about it? We obviously can’t let this stand.”

“No. We can’t,” I respond, leaning forward, my eyes narrowing and jaw clenched. “Find them. Find them and bring them to me.”