Page 80 of Angel

It didn’t take me long to head back to the mansion; this time, my Ferrari earned its reputation.

The others were waiting in the Crypt, eyes narrowed, the tension high.

“What do you know?”

I slip into the nearest seat, and Titan’s tone is dark, causing the thrill to ripple through me like a toxic poison. Fuck, I love this life. My adrenalin is running high.

“We checked out the garages you sent us and narrowed it down to two who ordered those colors of body work paint. A few of our operatives checked them out, and the owners were happy to cooperate.”

I chuckle to myself. They usually are. Nobody wants to get on the wrong side of the Angels. It’s not worth the fear.

“The license of 666 matched up with a job sheet and the car was resprayed after an accident that took out the rear driver’s side.”

“Do we have a name?” I ask, leaning forward and Titan nods, his expression grim.

“We also have an address.”

Something in his tone excites me. He’s found our guy; I know it.

“The same address as Sophie’s housekeeper.”

“So, it’s her husband, lover?”

I place the pieces together and am surprised when he shakes his head.

“No. The car is registered to her son Ricardo Ruiz. He works as a bus driver at the airport.”

Titan slides a photograph across the table, and I note the image on his airport ID. He doesn’t appear to be anyone out of the ordinary. I would pass by him in the street and not give him a second look.

“Have you followed him?”

I’m curious and Ghost adds, “He rents a garage a few blocks from his mother’s home. The car appears to live on their driveway.”

“So, what does he keep in his garage?”

I voice my thoughts out loud and Havoc growls, “We are about to find out.”

One by one, we pull our masks from our pockets and fix them in place, no words necessary as we leave our seats and head for the door.

This is what I love. When we ride at night and solve a mystery that has been evading us for some time. One by one, we close in on our prey, while using our collective talents to figure shit out.

Titan provides the information, I analyze it, Ghost does the background checks and plans the hit. Zac researches locations and properties and Havoc rallies the troops and makes certain we possess the resources.

We work as a team, many others making up the moving parts of that and as I head to the garage and my Harley welcomes me inside, I am so ready to deal with Sophie’s problem—whatever it takes.

* * *

When you ride at night, you get places a lot faster and as we roll to a stop outside Ricardo’s lockup, the dull throb of our engines silences.

The place is deserted. Windows in darkness, no street lights. It’s a neighborhood marked for regeneration. One of Zac’s projects, if I’m not mistaken.

He curses. “What the fuck do I pay security for? This place should be fenced off and fixed with cameras already. It’s been our plot for three months, for fuck’s sake.”

I sympathize. Sometimes you can’t command your ship unless your staff know how to sail. I’m guessing someone’s head will roll for this.

Havoc is the first to approach the garage armed with a crowbar. It doesn’t take him long to break the lock and as he rolls up the steel shutter, he shines his torch inside, feeling around for a light switch.

We cover him with our guns pointing inside and, as the strip light buzzes into life, Havoc whistles.