Page 148 of Intent to Kill
Parked across the road from the Tropics Hotel, T.B. and Dorian had been stuck in the van since eleven thirty, over an hour ago, just staring at the same building. They drove a deep blue van, not their usual limos, to blend in on this side of town. Unfortunately, in the vehicle T.B. had chosen, the air conditioning was out of order, which left Dorian’s temper rising faster than usual as they melted in the van.
“Sources tell me this is where Adam Vandemilio has been hiding out,” T.B. replied, drumming his hands on the wheel.
They sat in silence for a while longer, until it was nearing two. Like a spoiled, angry child, Dorian huffed in the passenger heat. “How much longer?”
“A few more minutes.” T.B. looked like he was holding in a scream.
Dorian had just sucked in an air of breath, readying for an onslaught of complaining, when the front door to the Tropics Hotel swung open, and Adam Vandemilio stepped out onto the street.
“I fucking told you,” T.B. said. “There he is.”
A taxi parked directly in front of the hotel, half blocking the view, so he had to crane his neck to see. But there it was, clear as fucking crystal. Adam Vandemilio strode down the steps onto the street in nothing but gray sweatpants and a shirt that hung open at the front. So lazy, so casual, much more relaxed than he should’ve been.
“What is he doing?” Dorian shifted in his seat.
Adam was talking to someone.
“There’s someone with him...a woman.” T.B. scrunched his nose.
The leggy blonde had her back turned. Dorian let out a low chuckle when Adam wrapped his arm around the girl’s waist and leaned in for a kiss. “So, he’s got a girl. Interesting.”
Well, fuck, these two were really going for it. They threw themselves together for a kiss so passionate that it looked like they were seconds away from heading back upstairs.
T.B. secured a pair of binoculars from the glove compartment.
“Good.” Dorian chuckled again. “A woman means a weakness.”
T.B. kept squinting through the binoculars like he was trying to place something. But Dorian didn’t give a shit. He had Vandemilio, and he had a fucking target.
“Oh,shit.”
“What?” Dorian said.
T.B.’s fingers were fumbling with the binoculars when Dorian snatched them from his hands. “Give them here.”
Adam’s girl kissed him hard, running her hands down his chest to fiddle with the waistband on his pants. But when she turned, she flicked her hair from her face. Enough to showcase exactly who she was.
What. The. Actual.Fuck?!
Though she was walking away, she kept her eyes locked on Adam until the last possible second. Emotions written all over her face like they’d put themselves on display for the day.
Rage bubbled through Dorian like an overflowing pot, water burning as it hit the flame. That look on her face. It was one Dorian had never seen her give before. Certainly one she’d never given him.
She was in love.
Fucking bitch.
* * *
Tonight was the night.
Three days ago, Dorian Blake won the election. Tomorrow, he’d be sworn in as mayor. They had waited until the very last second. Now they had to deliver, or die trying.
The door to Adam’s hotel room was wide open, a bustle of chaos and voices as those who joined his side fluttered in and out preparing for the kill. Paul and Carlos were already inside, bossing around their people and coordinating movements, with Adam watching.
“Take these.” Carlos handed over a large duffle to one of the men. “I don’t want to leave these here.” The man took the duffle bag and helped himself out of the room.
Dan burst through the door, almost bumping into some of Paul’s people who were carrying weapons downstairs.
