Page 124 of Indecent Lies

Grigori really was aiming for an all-time low with his reputation.

“This place is shit,” he remarked.

The man smirked, not pleasant at all. “You see why an upgrade is necessary. You, me and your brother can do a lot of good things, Mr. Hunt, once we cut through red tape.”

Texas snorted, rolling a quarter inside his pocket to keep his hand from patting the gun tucked away in the holster against his ribs.

He learned on day one in the MC to be safer than sorry.

“You’re shit out of luck if you think my brother would get involved in the sex trade. He’s a fucking cop.”

“Ah, but a cop who knows how to look the other way, am I wrong? He has access to channels that we need.”

There was nowe. This guy was crazy.

“Sit. Enjoy.” Grigori said. “I will return in a moment.”

He strode off and left Texas among the misery and the ruined.

He turned away; he’d throw up if he had to watch this shit.

There was porn, then there was whatever this was.

He noted all the security men with their guns were enjoying every second of the three sets going on simultaneously, more than one grabbed his own crotch.

Cutting his gaze to the left, he rested on a wall furthest away from what was going down. He desperately wanted to call Poppy and have her goodness cleanse his ears and feel how she laughed at something stupid she saw on TV.

He made like he was texting, when in fact he was recording the assholes with guns. He didn’t wait to transfer it to Charlie Timmons later, he uploaded the file with a few taps and sent it to him via email.

Let Grigori get out of that one.

Ideally he wanted eyes on something official, a paper trail that said this guy was bad news and had his fingers in a lot of bad shit. For now all he had was photos so he kept sending them to the only trustworthy cop he knew.

Time was, that would have been Malachai. How times had changed, he thought, when he couldn’t put trust in his own blood to do the right thing.

Lifting his head, he slipped his phone away in time to see one of the heavies yanking a skinny malnourished chick in miniscule red underwear by her arm, almost dragging so she tripped on the floor.

Fury filled Texas’ eyes as he rushed forward and knocked the guy back with force.

“Get the fuck off her, you asshole, she’s a woman, not a bag of cement, would you drag your sister like that?”

The woman who’d burrowed into Texas’s body for shelter like she thought he was Jesus and Thor combined, was mumbling upset in thick Russian.

This pissed off the goon and he pointed his gun and he too spoke in Russian.

This brought two of the other goons.

Turns out, maybe today was the day Texas died.

But he’d do it by not witnessing a woman being treated like she was shit.

He petted the back of her dark hair and told her it was okay.

“What is going on here?” The authority voice spoke and had heads turning. Texas didn’t look away from the gun pointed at his temple.

Russian conversation was exchanged between his men.

“This asshole was almost dragging her arm from the socket.” Texas informed.