76. Cohen

76

COHEN

I combed an aggravated hand through my hair, slamming the van door shut and padlocking the back before following Casper and Donnie across the manicured driveway of Prescott Estates. Truth was I didn't know what the fuck we were doing here a handful of years later. Though returning to the scene of a crime didn't seem like the smartest move on our parts.

What I did know was that Adrian had another job for us and leaving Emily behind didn't feel like much of an option. Not when one of us was always conveniently absent whenever there was heavy-lifting to be done. It was the same one of us who had eyes on all the live security feed both on and offsite.

It fucking irked me. The way Bugs leered at something he knew damn well didn't fucking belong to him. And that fucker had access to every camera in my possession. Probably a shit-ton of them that weren't too. Which meant my pet was better off locked up in the back of our travel van than at the mercy of a Peeping Tom with too much time and lotion on his hands. She had enough air to last her an hour or so before the heat got to her. Wasn't about to leave that shit idling and chance her running off with the keys.

I also wasn't about to analyze why I suddenly gave a damn about Emily's welfare. I didn't. The fact she was mine was more than enough reason for me to justify bringing her along. Besides, I was gonna have to start giving her a bit of a longer leash. Couldn't have our future kid being born in some mold-infested basement. That shit seeped into the air sacs and caused all sorts of respiratory issues. But I had a good few months before I had to worry about any of that. Thanks to another fucking negative HCG test. Until then, I needed to train my pet to come to a quick heel.

By the time we were approaching the front doors, I was reaching out an arm. Tugging Casper behind me by the collar of his toddler-sized t-shirt. Cocky bastard loved showing off his… well, everything.

He tilted his head to grin at me in that way he did whenever he was about to say something stupid. "Ya gonna let me join in next time? Or just keep playing the cock tease?"

"Depends…" I kept my tone low and calm, despite the way my skin was prickling beneath the surface.

"On?"

"On whether or not you want your balls delivered to ya in a glass jar or a pine box."

He barked out a laugh, slapping the backside of my shoulder as he teetered dangerously close to earning himself that male soprano spot.

"What's this shit about? Didn't think we did house calls," I grunted, watching as the crazy fucker practically bounced on the soles of his boots.

"All we do is fucking house calls, Franks."

I dropped my glare, eyeing the fucker's hand until he was smart enough to remove it. "Not during the day, we don't."

Before I could get a straight answer from the ass clown with more coke in his system than brain cells in his skull, we were being guided inside by some old guy in a penguin suit. His bald head gleaming beneath the light of the chandelier that looked far more gaudy now that it was all lit up.

The fact Bugs wasn't currently chirping in our ears told me this would be an in-and-out sort of thing. While the fact we weren't climbing in through a cracked window suggested it was no ordinary job. Shit seemed off the books. Like Adrian was sending us out as his personal errand boys. Wouldn't surprise me if that were true. Though it would piss me the fuck off. I didn't work for free. Not for anyone.

The clearing of a throat had us pivoting around on the heels of our boots before the clicking of heels told me this chick didn't know the meaning of a quiet entrance. She was decent enough looking. Long, thick, black hair pulled into a tight ponytail that cascaded down her back in waves and the kind of curves that were meant to be gripped up at the waist. But the tight pursing of her lips warned me the woman was a problem I didn't have the patience to entertain. The kind of bitch who didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. Especially when it was in her best interests.

Casper popped a piece of chewing gum between his teeth, one side of his face pinched back into an unnatural grin as he lifted his arms and folded them over his chest. "What can we do for ya, mami ?" He laid on a thick accent that had me groaning and the woman's nostrils flaring in disgust.

Couldn't blame her for that one. Shit was cringy as fuck but that was Casper's style.

She eyed him for a second or two, the iciness of her glare brisk enough to send a chill down your spine before landing it on me. "I'm told you're good with a bone saw." She lifted a curious brow. "But I don't believe anything I'm told until I see it for myself."

The chick didn't bother saying more before pivoting on her too-high heels, clearly expecting us to follow her without needing to be asked.