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“Fine,” Rose huffed. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came out here to bake. Birdy startled me, and I almost sank a chef knife in his head.”
“One more time,” he looked at her confused.
“Here.” Rose handed him a cup of coffee. “Just chalk it up to you need a new knife, and you shouldn’t startle me. Sit there and drink that while I put the cinnamon rolls in the oven.”
Chapter 7
“You have eyes on my wife?” Warren asked as he looked through the scope of his rifle.
“Always,” came Brooks’ immediate answer.
If it were anyone else in the world, the answer would have gotten that person a one-way trip to the green room. He trusted his best friend with something more precious than his life. He was in charge of Rose’s safety when Warren couldn’t have eyes on her himself.
“Cameras are all out of the house. The neighborhood door cams and traffic cams have been scrubbed,” Brooks reported. “No one knows you ever lived in that house.”
His best friend crouched down beside where he was lying. They were closer than brothers. Forged together by impossible missions and hours upon hours of sitting side by side in silence, they knew each other’s next move by heart. After years of serving together, it had just felt natural to fall into this line of work. They were opposites in almost every way except when it came to work. After the job was done, Warren was devoted to Rose, even if he had to watch over her from afar. Brooks, on the other hand, was devoted to the woman of the evening. With his blonde hair and good looks, there was never a shortage of women volunteering to slide between his sheets.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
They waited in silence as the man walked across the stage to accept his award. When he turned to smile at the flashing cameras, Warren’s gloved finger pressed the trigger. Pandemonium erupted as the man fell. People screamed and ran for cover while Warren calmly put his rifle back in the case. Brooks planted the decoy loaded with fingerprints in its place. After tossing an empty shell casing on the rooftop beside the gun, Brooks fell into step beside Warren.
“Did she sleep last night?” He asked as he hit the button for the elevator. The doors opened immediately, and they stepped on. Warren hit the button for the bottom floor before taking off his gloves.
“No. The club got cinnamon rolls, two kinds of bread, and more sugar cookies this morning.”
“Did the order of supplies arrive?”
“Not yet, but it should be delivered this afternoon. They had too many substitutions on the order, and I had to make a call.”
“Stupid, incompetent people,” Warren grumbled when the elevator doors opened. Warren and Brooks casually strolled out onto the sidewalk. Emergency sirens blared around them, but they never missed a step. They had done this so many times it was ingrained in their DNA. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, they blended in with the curious onlookers that flooded the street after the first scream ripped through the air. To anyone else, they were two guys with a gym bag. No one questioned them as they were absorbed into the crowd.
“Probably teenagers who are pulling a cart around the store looking for shit they have no idea what it is.”
Brooks frowned at him.
“You are the one who wanted to do it this way. My idea was for you to take her to the island and let me take care of the contracts on the books.”
“I can handle my wife.”
Brooks shrugged.
“Look, we have two more contracts before we can move on this.”
“No chance we can get another day like today?”
“Won the lotto on this one,” Warren said as he hit the fob on his keys. The dark-colored car halfway down the street started. “Not every day we can take out a pedophile and frame the guy who sold his son to him.”
“It was a win-win day. I love our job,” Brooks sighed as he slid onto the buttery leather seat. “Oh hell yeah, the seat is air-conditioned. Swamp ass is real and lethal in this heat.”
“Let me know if you want to end the next one with your sweaty ball sack.”
“You keep saying we need to think outside the box.”
“Forget about your sack and pull up the feed.” Warren navigated through traffic away from the chaos they created. “I have to see her before we get on the plane and get the hell out of here.”
“A quick stop in the Midwest. We can take care of two at once, he said. Fly commercial because the private plane is too flashy. Go in the middle of fucking summer,” Brooks rambled as he brought up the feed to check on Rose.
