Page 31 of With A Little Luck

Chapter Twenty-Six

Trigg

A nnoyance is one emotion I’m well-acquainted with. Everyone is testing the limits of my good nature today.

Hart with how he kissed Quincy in the hallway this morning.

Ridge overcompensating with too many lavish gifts all at once. He made Quincy cry, and I could do nothing but watch it on my phone screen.

Even the restaurant I once looked forward to visiting has been ruined. The club sandwich doesn’t taste anywhere near as delicious when anyone but Quincy delivers it.

My half brother seems dead set on putting me in a foul mood. There’s no other reason he would drag me away from the house. I wasn’t about to tell him I couldn’t leave because Ridge and Hartley would be busy assembling the nursery, thus giving me the perfect time to woo my omega.

And while I might not have spilled the beans, someone did.

If I had to place a bet on who was responsible for sharing that tidbit of knowledge, I would put my money on Shaw.

That fucker seems like he has a big mouth.

Knox stretches back against the booth, glancing around like he’s desperate for something to do. We long ago finished our food, but he’s a big boy. I’m confident he could find something on his phone to entertain him while we do our job as bait.

This would have been much more effective with Ridge as the prey. However, Easton must have taken pity on him after learning about Quincy and the baby.

No one decided to take pity on me, and my mood has not improved as the hours have passed. Although, I am looking forward to getting out of here and going shopping. That will brighten my outlook on the day, I’m sure of it.

I’ve already selected several rings that I’d like to examine in person. The shop closes at five, so one way or another, these assholes need to make themselves known if they intend on it.

Seeing members of Costa’s team strolling by the restaurant the other day may have simply been a coincidence.

Normally I don’t believe in coincidences, but if they intend to act, I doubt they would do so while Knox and I are still in the restaurant. Easton is ultimately hoping Leo and Shaw can get eyes on Costa, his team, or the hired mercenaries.

If they’re in a spot where a covert shot can be taken…

Even better.

At least, that’s my line of thinking.

Sure, it would be convenient to obtain one of Costa’s team—that way, they could be tortured for information about Costa’s whereabouts.

It would be even better if they could quietly take out the boss himself, but I don’t see that happening.

He can afford to pay his minions to do his dirty work for him.

If I were Costa, I wouldn’t stick my nose out and risk someone cutting it off.

I would simply stay hunkered down and allow the paid help to do what they were contracted for.

This day is never going to end.

“Easton is pissed,” Knox says, jogging to keep pace at my side in the horrendous-smelling alleyway.

I stop dead in my tracks and turn to face him. “Yes, because it wasn’t suspicious at all that we spent the better part of six hours sitting in the restaurant.” I roll my eyes. “You’re more than welcome to go back in. Spend some additional time flirting with the hostess.”

I believe her name is Sutton, but I barely spared her a glance. She came over to ask if I had any information on Quincy.

I lied through my teeth, assuring her that as far as I knew, Quincy was at home resting. After all, she looked rundown the last time I saw her in the restaurant.

Although, I should probably encourage Quincy to check her phone when I make it back to Ridge’s. Otherwise, the helpful friend might get concerned and pop by Quincy’s empty house, which would only open another can of worms.

“The jewelry store closes in twenty-five minutes,” I growl, taking off down the alley.

I could have used the front sidewalks, but my phone assured me this route would shave off two minutes.

It’s already getting dark, despite it not even being five p.m. Winter in Vermont is ridiculous.

“I’ve spent all day following Easton’s orders. If he doesn’t like it, he can fire me.”

I haven’t been paid, making that threat rather innocuous.

“I’ll let you pass on that message,” Knox says, again picking up his pace to try to keep up with me. “You’re not, like, planning to buy Quincy a ring or anything? Right? A necklace would?—”

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and something niggles at my senses. It’s a half-second choice to act, and I spin, shoving Knox to the wall with one hand slammed into his sternum.

He lets out a ridiculous oomph , but I’m already reaching for my Glock with my dominant hand.

I always use a holster capable of accommodating a suppressor, which is convenient, considering we’re on the edge of town. There’s no need to draw extra attention to ourselves.

The gun isn’t technically illegal, but the silencer is another story.

Movement from behind the dumpster that Knox and I just walked past catches my eye, and I pivot, lining up to take my shot.

Jesus.

I didn’t even sense him.

That sets a bad precedent.

His eyes go wide as he spots me, and he gets his shit together, aiming at me faster than I would like. The low whoosh of his silenced shot being fired pushes me to act. His bullet flies past my head, only missing my ear by a few inches. It was too close for comfort, that’s for damn sure.

My bullet lands in his chest, and his body jolts. That wasn’t where I was aiming, and I frown, lining up for a follow-up shot, but one of Easton’s snipers finally does their job. The side of his head explodes against the brick wall of the alleyway.

Another assailant pops up, keeping low as he attempts to flee.

I course correct from my last shot, focusing on his skull, but his neck snaps to the side, the shot clearly taken by one of the snipers.

The bullet entered mid-cranium and exited through his jaw, by the looks of it.

Although, they are ten to fifteen feet away, so it’s difficult to be sure.

Either way, it’s going to be an ugly sight. Here’s hoping Knox has a stronger stomach than he’s led me to believe.

This is a fucking nightmare.

My internal clock says I have less than twenty minutes left to make it to the jewelry store and pick out a ring for Quincy.

“Goddammit,” I growl, jogging forward while scanning for additional adversaries. If two decided to show themselves, there could be more just waiting to pop up to ruin my proposal plans.

Coming around the edge of the dumpster, I keep my finger on the trigger, just in case there is a third who was too frightened to act.

There’s not.

The first body lies slumped against the dumpster with vacant eyes and a half-open mouth. Blood pools beneath him, soaking into the concrete.

“Fuck,” Knox says, reaching my side. “How do we cover this up?”

Sighing, I holster my weapon and reach for my wallet. “We need at least three or four two liters of Coke and a few quarts of motor oil.” I shove a hundred at him and put my wallet away. “But first, I need your help getting these bodies into the dumpster.”

Pulling out my phone, I text Easton.

Hopefully you have a contact with a garbage truck capable of handling a dumpster. You’d better get your guys down here to keep an eye on it until it can be removed. I check the time, and my teeth grind together. I have eighteen minutes to purchase a ring.

By the way, I hate this job.

There.

That was concise.

Focusing on Knox, I shove my phone away and pull out the latex gloves I brought just in case.

“We need to get them out of sight. There’s not much that can be done about the bone fragments, but cover the blood in the Coke.

Let it sit for five minutes and have a field day with the oil.

It’s not perfect, but it will help cover the smell and wash away evidence.

” I toss a pair of gloves at his chest. “While I’m in the jewelry store, I need you to find dinner.

Ridge and Hartley were still assembling a dresser when I checked.

I doubt they’ve had a chance to think about feeding Quincy. ”

Knox blinks at me with wide eyes. “You scare me.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes.

They should all be afraid. This was a complete waste of time. If they had warned us we had a tail, we could have captured at least one of those assholes alive.

“Help me check for cell phones or IDs. We need to be quick.”

Everyone in my general vicinity should be very grateful that the jewelry store owner was willing to stay late. I’m sure the five hundred dollars I offered just for staying open an additional thirty minutes helped matters.

There’s a pep in my step as I make it back to the alleyway.

Leo and Shaw stand around, talking among themselves.

I nod, stopping to investigate whether Knox followed my instructions.

It appears he did.

That’s a good sign.

Of course my half brother is nowhere to be seen.

Much like Costa Maloney is intelligent enough to order around his minions, Easton holds the same cold indifference for his employees.

He’ll likely do a quick survey of the area after the dumpster has been removed, but he won’t show his face until the majority of the crime has been cleaned up.

In general, I prefer to be the one to clean up my crime scenes, but I’m very rarely forced into action in public.

“East has a truck on the way that will be able to swap out the dumpster,” Shaw says, keeping his voice barely above a whisper.

“Once that’s in place, he’ll have another team come in and cook some s’mores.

” He holds his hands out, flipping them like he’s warming himself by a fire. He winks. “If you get what I mean.”

I blink repeatedly.

Is there something in the water here that makes grown men lose brain cells? I’ll need to be careful not to drink the tap water.

“Enough. He gets it.” Leo slams his shoulder into Shaw’s and looks at me. “How’s Ridge doing? Still losing his shit?”