38. Colt

Chapter 38

Colt

F able is starting to question things. We've been doin' damn good considering she's been here for three weeks now, and we'd assumed we'd be okay until she left, but now she's starting to look at things a little more closely thanks to all our unplanned midnight visits.

I throw an accusatory look over at Dolly where her tongue lulls from her mouth. "You didn't help matters any," I tell her. "Damn near gonna cause trouble, Dolly Girl."

She boofs in response happily, uncaring about the trouble she's started. But really, she didn't start anything at all. It's my own damn fault for not keeping her at my side. Usually I don't mind, but I've kept her purposely close with Fable here. Of course, the one time I take my eyes off her for a few minutes, she'd gone and found the one person she shouldn't and led her to the barn. Now Fable is questioning what's going on. And we're gonna have to skate closer to danger for the next week.

My phone beeps with a notification and I pull it from my pocket. I click the notification and stare at the words, my eyes slowly widening.

"Fuck!" I snarl, looking at the time. "It's literally three pm on a Wednesday!"

Since when has he ever come at this time of day? Real fucking inconvenient, but more than that? What the fuck are we gonna do to make sure Fable doesn't see?

I immediately call Rhett. He answers on the second ring. "We've got five minutes," I say instead of greeting him. He hangs up without a word, no doubt grabbing paperwork. I dial Gunnar next. He takes a little longer to answer.

"What do you want?" he growls. "I'm in the middle of shoeing?—"

"Get Fable out of here. Now," I snarl.

He goes silent. "How long?"

"Five minutes." I glance at my watch. "Now four."

"Fuck," he rasps before hanging up.

The exact sentiment this situation calls for. But he'll take care of it. I have no doubt, just as I have no doubt that Fable is going to put up a fight. There isn't time for convincing. Either Gunnar gets her away quickly, or he makes her go. She isn't going to like that.

Still, I'm relieved that Gunnar is nowhere to be found when the black sedan pulls up. I don't know where he took her. I only know she'd begun stretching in the yard after our run in and now she's not. That's what's important.

The man that climbs out of the back seat is one we've seen many times. He's dressed in only a black button down and slacks today, as if he shed his coat jacket along the way. His sleeves are rolled up to show off the impressive ink along his arm, the same designs peeking above his collar and trailing along his neck.

"Welcome back to Circle Bee, Lennox," I say, my tone lacking any sort of emotion. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Lennox smirks at my words as if it amuses him as three other goons get out of the car. I don't fool myself into thinking we have the advantage here. While the goons who come are usually inept, Lennox is anything but. That's why he's the big boss. That's why this is so dangerous.

"You lot look tense," Lennox comments. "Where's Gunnar?"

"Busy," Rhett answers, his expression hard. "Just like we all were. We don't do business this time of day usually."

Lennox looks over at Rhett with a grin. "Bit inconvenient, wasn't it?" But then his smile falls. "Just like the rumor that you're working with The Eight Balls on the west coast."

Rhett doesn't react. Neither do Trent or I, but Lennox looks between the three of us, trying to find some sort of clue. We give him nothing. If there's anything we've learned over the last ten years, it's a good poker face. That seems to only make Lennox laugh more.

"Look, I'm not here to play games," Lennox says, his hands threading into his pockets.

"Then stop playing games and do business like usual," Rhett grunts. "I thought we were past that."

Lennox turns to meet Rhett's eyes head on. "I'm not stupid, boy. Don't treat me like I am."

"And I'm not a boy," Rhett counters. "So I suggest you come out here with a little more respect."

Lennox tilts his head. "You gonna murder me like you did the Eight Ball Goon?"

Rhett doesn't flinch. None of us do. It's a good thing Gunnar isn't here because he would have. Of the four of us, he's the softest, not because he isn't capable of it, but because he has someone countin' on him more than we do. Callie must be protected at all costs. That's the rule.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," Rhett replies, his eyes hard.

Lennox chuckles. "Of course you don't." He looks between the three of us. "I expect more money for the inconvenience of coming out to clarify the rumors. I don't care past that."

"You got your money," Trent points out.

"It's short," Lennox shrugs. "Figured I'd come to tell you personally since I was in the area."

I tilt my chin up. "We paid you the amount we agreed on. You can't change the amount after we pay."

"Can't I?" Lennox asks, leveling me with that mile-long stare. I don't care. I'm not afraid of him. I dealt with assholes like him both inside the police force and the criminals we faced. Men like Lennox don't scare me. He can't do anything to me that I'm afraid of.

But to Fable, he can.

As if knowing where my mind goes, he asks, "Where did that cute little thing you lot had staying here go?"

"She left," I say. "Temporary guest."

His lips curl. "Pity. She seemed like a lot of fun."

I know instantly he doesn't believe me, which is fucking dangerous. It's more dangerous than anything else we've done, but that's okay. I can protect Fable. I will. Nothing is gonna happen to her, not unless it's me doin' it.

"Why the increase?" Rhett asks. "We don't give you any trouble. We've delivered on time every time. We don't ask for anything over, but here you are asking for more and more. What does it benefit us to give you more?"

"It doesn't. It benefits me, clearly," Lennox says, looking away from me to focus on Rhett again. "Consider it payment for playing both teams. I really, really don't like the Eight Balls."

How the fuck does he know that? How the fuck does he know anything he does? The Crows would have been a short-lived problem if not for this motherfucker. What is it about him that makes them so powerful? Why is he so goddamned good at this?

And why can't we fucking be the same?

"I don't care really," Lennox shrugs. "You pay up or you move more product. It doesn't matter which."

"We can't move anymore," Rhett grits out. "We're at max capacity already."

"Then you know which choice you'll choose," Lennox shrugs. He steps closer to Rhett and looks down at him. "I'm not mad, Rhett. In fact, I have to admire a survivor. I'm one of those, too. You lot have single-handedly saved this place, and I'm glad you took my offer when I came. That's admirable." He glances at Trent and me. "I expect the payment by the end of the day. Oh, and don't kill my guys. It's a pain to get good help these days."

He smiles as if we're not discussing criminal activities and death threats and turns back to his black sedan.

"I'll see you around." He meets my eyes. "Maybe I'll see your guest around sometime."

I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. "Not my business if you do."

He chuckles and slips into the car before the goons follow and the black sedan pulls away. We watch him go, none of us speaking until the car pulls onto the main road and disappears. Only then do we collectively let out a breath.

I immediately call Gunnar, but he doesn't answer.

"Fuck," I snarl, looking over at Rhett. He's standing there staring at the road, his expression dark. "What now?"

He scowls. "I'm gonna send him more money. That's what. You make sure the Eight Balls don't find out for certain. We can't afford to double our pay with them, too. Especially, since they were already asking."

Then he storms off, leaving Trent and me to stand there. I glance at him. "You got a bad feeling about this?"

"I always have a bad feeling," he answers. "Doesn't stop me."

Then he leaves me there, too. My eyes dance out to the pastures. I call Gunnar again. No answer.

"Where the fuck did they go?" I snarl, annoyed.