Page 171 of Summer Heat
“Eh, you know who I wouldn’t mind? Roman. I met him when you and Cash brought in David. Nothing to complain about in the looks department.”
“Ew, he’s my brother. Besides, he’s as bad as Cash. They’re all assholes.”
“Someone’s beeping in. Call Cash, and check in later with David and Cash updates. Bye.”
Nicola finished packing and grabbed her burner phone again. Time to call Cash. Hmm, if only I knew his phone number. She went back to the hall and picked up the pieces of her cell to see if it would turn on enough for an address book search.
Nope.
She sent Beth a text, asking her to track down Cash’s number. Beth was good. The best damn handler she could’ve wanted. Until the number appeared in her phone, she was content to sit on the bed and watch for it.
***
Cash banged on the door. The wrought-iron security door rattled. It was after hours, but that '69 Mustang Boss 429 sat in its spot. The hood was still warm, so wherever she’d gone, she was back.
“Open up,” he yelled at the security camera.
Click. The door unlocked, and he pulled at it before the last deadbolt disengaged. Finally, he was in the dark room and heading down the hall. Sugar’s steps came from her office.
“What the hell, Cash?”
He stormed toward the indoor range and didn’t wait for her to catch up. “Load me up. Now. High powered anything.”
“Cash—”
He slammed to a stop and spun around. “I’ve never asked for anything, but I am now. Right now. I want a gun and ammo.”
She stared at him for a second and turned around. He continued toward his destination, picked a firing stall in the middle, and propped his elbows on the wall. Fuck me, my head hurts. He tucked his head into the nook of one elbow and pinched his eyes shut, hiding his face from the whole damn world.
He heard Sugar’s heels before she spoke. “What crawled up your ass?”
Where to fucking begin? And why would he confide in Sugar? “Nothing.”
He peeked at the weapon. That he could deal with. She placed the Colt Competition rifle and high capacity magazines in front of him. Cash straightened from his woe-is-me position. Making quick work of it, he loaded the lightweight long gun but didn’t move to the wall. Neither of them donned their ear guards. He just stood there, big-assed gun in hand and big-assed problems on his mind.
Sugar spoke softly. “She seems like a good woman. Certainly has a set.”
“Seems. Perfect description. She seems like a decent person.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. Are your feelings hurt over a chick?”
“Back off, Sugar. Not in the mood to talk about it.”
“Well, shoot or talk. One or the other, buddy. Otherwise, you’re going to accidently lose it and punch someone just because. I’d like it to not be me.”
“Too late, and no accident about it.”
Minutes ticked by in the dark. The illuminated target provided the only light. Taking the line, Cash threw on his ear guards, clicked the safety to rock ‘n’ roll, and let it fly. The kickback felt good. The power and fury released by the trigger press helped. Some. Not a lot, but no other solutions popped into his head. He released the empty magazine and backed out, pulling off his ear guards and placing the rifle on a nearby stand.
“There’s someone else.” It was all he could say, all he would admit. Sugar laughed. Screw her. Screw them all. “What’s so damn funny? You think this is karma or something?”
“Hell, no. But I think you’re wrong.”
“Trust me. I’m not.”
“She told you that?” Sugar shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”
“I saw it with my own eyes. Twenty-twenty, perfect freakin’ vision.”
