Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ever

L eaning back against the shipping container, I listen. There is no way that this is going to end well for that guy.

“Oh, who do we have here?” Hunt asks.

“This little cunt was caught sampling the product,” the woman replies.

Hunt’s tone conveys his displeasure as he replies, “That is not normally something that is brought to me. Surely you can handle one little thief.”

The woman’s reply disgusts me as she adds proudly, “He was also caught trying to sell information to our competitors. Fortunately, we caught it before he could do any real damage.”

“Well, now that is something that I should be brought in for,” Hunt says, his voice calculating, “we can’t have that.”

A sudden bang echoes around the shipping container, making me jump; there was no warning, no build-up, no chance for the guy to defend himself, nothing. Hunt just shot him. He either must really trust the two people that he is speaking to, or he really doesn’t give a shit and is happy to take a life just because he can and doesn’t actually care if they are guilty or not. I am inclined to believe the second version. It is the one that suits his fucked-up personality the most.

The woman clears her throat, only betraying a small sign of her nerves as she says, “What would you like us to do with him?”

“Get rid of him,” Hunt replies, his voice betraying that he thinks that is an obvious answer and the woman is asking stupid questions.

“Yes, of course,” she replies.

“Well, that problems taken care of, is that all?” Hunt asks, completely unaffected by what he has just done, “My bed is calling me, it is the early hours of the morning after all, and I have an important meeting tomorrow with the local senator.”

The end of that sentence is definitely a brag, and proof that he does have friends in high places.

“One last thing, sir,” the man replies this time, “Liam has been poking around more than usual and is pushing for an in-person meeting with you.”

I perk up at this information.

Hunt chuckles, “The fool thinks he’s far more important than he actually is.”

“Yes, I agree, but he really has become quite insistent, and he’s starting to cause issues,” the man replies, pushing the issue more.

“What kind of issues?” Hunt asks, his voice sharp.

“Two of our clients for the art have migrated over to him, citing better prices and more personal touch,” the man replies.

My eyebrows rise, art? They are dealing in stolen art here too? That is a new one.

“Since when do criminals want a personal touch?” Hunt asks incredulously.

“I don’t know sir,” the man replies diplomatically.

“Well, I’m not going to let Liam, steal my clients,” Hunt spits, clearly outraged that Liam’s managed to steal them, and making me grin. I don’t like Liam, but he is definitely the lesser evil.

“What would you like us to do?” The man once again replies, and I wonder if it is because the woman’s gone, or if she has just decided it's safe for self preservation reasons to keep her mouth shut.

“If he wants an in person meeting so badly then we’ll give him one,” Hunt says, back under control, although there is still an edge to his voice, “invite him to a meeting here.”

The man clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable and trying to tread lightly as he replies, “Here, boss? Are you sure that you want him to know about this place? He’s not very trustworthy, and although the woman was fucking awful, you still killed his ex-wife rather recently.”

Hunt chuckles, “That woman was a piece of work, he won't be wanting revenge for her, they hadn’t been together for a while.”

“I am aware,” the man says, “still, to invite him here, when he’s trying to take over parts of your operation and steal clients, may not be the best decision.”

I feel for sure that he is about to get himself shot, that was a very brazen way to speak to someone who just shot someone with no hesitation. Apparently, I’m wrong though, and I think Hunt’s following words just go to show how unhinged he really is.

“Thank you, I do appreciate the concern,” Hunt replies warmly, a direct contrast to the anger in his voice a moment ago, “however, it’s unwarranted. Liam won’t be leaving here alive.”

I frown, I don’t like that. I can't really explain why, maybe because he looked out for me for years, perhaps because I have this niggling feeling that something more is going on with him something that would change our perspective of certain situations if we knew, or perhaps it’s because I just heard that my mother was a raging bitch, if someone like Hunt called her a piece of work that she had to have been pretty fucking awful. Maybe it’s all of those reasons or none of them but knowing that Liam will die if he goes to this meeting and not warning him doesn’t sit right with me, and I have no idea how to handle that.

So, like the super awesome emotionally stable person that I am, I bury it with everything else. Like a grown up.

Jensen

W e watched three big trucks head in through this gate, which raised our suspicions because this is the side entrance and not the main one, and it doesn’t make much sense for them to be coming through the side entrance.

Quinn then said that he recognized at least one of the drivers as being someone who worked for Hunt, so we followed them as soon as it was safe to do so.

The plan was to see if they talk about anything that is worth mentioning, or more specifically, Hunt. However, they had just started to unload the trucks, opening the backs, and getting forklifts and all of that when they just stopped what they were doing and headed off further into the shipping yard on foot, like it was break time or some shit. Whatever the reason, it gives us a really good opportunity.

“I think we should see what he’s got in these trucks,” I suggest.

“Good idea,” Ezra adds, “although I really hope that it’s nothing like what you found at that warehouse when you went to rescue Emmerson.”

“Trust me dude, me too,” I reply, “that was horrific.”

“I will keep a lookout while you have a look,” Ezra suggests.

I roll my eyes, “You just don’t want to look in them just in case.”

Ezra shrugs, but doesn’t confirm or deny it.”

“That’s exactly what he’s fucking doing,” Quinn confirms instead as he rolls as well.

“Right well us non yellow-bellied scaredy cats will look in the crates and do our jobs while you just stand there,” I tease, hopping up into the back of the truck, Quinn following behind me.

Ezra snorts quietly, “You do that, I’ll be your first line of defence against all attackers.”

“Dick,” Quinn mutters, amusement in his eyes as he shakes his head. He then changes the conversation, “Let’s get this done as quickly as we can. I don’t like hanging around.”

“Agreed,” I reply.

Looking around we’re fortunate enough to find something to open one of the crates with, and we chose to open one at the back of the truck so if they do notice that it’s been tampered with it will take them a while to do so and we can make sure that we’re far out of the area, and not going to be caught.

Working together we quickly get the crate open, although it does take longer than it usually would because we don’t want to damage the crate and want to be able to shut it, so it looks the same as it did before we opened it. That meant that we had to be extra careful.

“Guns,” Quinn mutters, completely unsurprised.

“I’ve got to say I’m glad it’s not more people,” I say, “let’s get some pictures and then we need to get out of here. We have no idea when the guys driving the truck are going to be back, and none of us want to risk being found and blowing it all. Not now we know for certain that Hunt is still using this shipping yard.”

“No, we are so close to finally ending his reign and all the shit that he has done that I don’t want to risk fucking it up now,” Quinn replies.

I nod, “You go and take pictures of the truck and their plates. I will take pictures of the contents of this box and the truck.”

“Got it,” Quinn agrees, as he heads back out to Ezra.

I make quick work of doing what I need to and then heave the lid back into place. Unless you got really close to the lid you wouldn’t be able to tell that it had already been open, and hopefully it will be a while before someone gets up close and personal with this box. Especially since it's huge and has to be lifted with a forklift. That should buy us even more time.

Hopping back out of the truck I hear the loud sound of laughter, and the guys share a look before taking off at a sprint, sticking to the shadows and moving swiftly, heading for the entrance. When we get there, the gates are shut again and I curse, we are going to have to hang out, hidden in the shadows and hope that we aren’t going to get caught while we wait for another vehicle to go in or out so that we can sneak out with it.

It is fucking risky, but we don’t really have a choice right now. We needed to follow them in when it became evident that the people driving were people that we knew had affiliations with Hunt. We needed irrefutable proof, and that is what we got. It is a job well done but now we may be in trouble.

We all stay silent, crouched, and ready to move at a moment's notice as we wait for a vehicle to come in or out. I am hyper-aware of our surroundings, listening for any sign that we are about to be found. Finally, after a couple of hours, maybe more, the same trucks that we followed in here approach the gates to leave. We don’t want to risk being left in here for any longer, so without word we move, sprinting through the gates on the opposite side of the guard house, which is where the trucks are currently paused. As soon as we get out of the gates, we have to dive between some of the cars out here, or we are going to be seen.

We then had to wait until all of the trucks had cleared the gate, and the place had fallen silent again before we dared move. We still stick to the shadows, as we keep ourselves hidden until we are far enough away that we can start walking casually and head back to the car.

“We’ve got what we needed, let’s head back.” I say as I get into the driving seat.

“Thank fuck or that,” Ezra replies, “being here has definitely scratched an itch, but I’m ready to head back now.”

“Yeah, I miss Lyric,” Quinn replies. “She better not have done any baby shopping without me.”

Ezra chuckles, “She wouldn’t. We both made her promise.”

“I have to say I fucking love this for you,” I comment as I pull out and head back to the safe house, hopefully for the last time.

“Thanks, man,” they reply together, making me smile.

Quinn really has come back and just slotted straight in, he is back where he should be and all of them are more happy now that he is back, I hadn’t realised that there was something missing but there definitely was, and that is obvious now.

Ever

W e somehow managed to get back out without being seen and I am not quite sure how, only that we had luck on our side.

“Are we heading back to the safe house?” I ask.

Cash nods, as he starts the car, “Yeah, we’ve got what we needed, and I’d rather not hang around now that we know Hunt is here.”

“We could get a clear shot at him if we hang around,” Cash glances at me sharply, and I sigh, “Yeah, yeah I know, Trick told us not to go out of the way to get the shot and to only take it if the opportunity presented itself.”

Cash chuckles, “Sorry, Il Mio Cuore, just the one win today.”

“I will take it. We know what we need to do. We can call Alaric when we get back to the house and fill him in, and then he can get in contact with Liam.” I reply. I pause and of course Cash picks up on it.

“What’s wrong?” he asks me.

“It is probably going to sound really fucking weird, but it didn’t sit right with me that they want to kill Liam; I wanted to warn him. I think it might be because he is helping us, and has always helped me, but I also feel like there’s things we don’t know,” I start to explain, and Cash interrupts.

“Things that would make a difference to how we view him?” he asks.

I nod, sighing with relief that I am not the only one who's noticed it, “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t trust him, I don’t fucking like him, and he has done a lot of bad that we know for certain, but it turned out that Blake was the big bad, and I'm wondering what exactly Liam had a hand in.”

“Yeah, I think we are all thinking the same. I know that Atlas is to, he has brought it up with me recently,” Cash replies.

“He has?” I ask, glad that he is talking to someone about it all.

“Yeah. We will figure it out, but I understand what you mean, and I think we most likely would have contacted him to warn him if we were not going to use the meeting to take down Hunt,” Cash replies.

I nod, “Agreed. So, we need to call Alaric and fill him in, then call Trick and the guys and fill them in. We then need to wait until Jensen and the others get back to fill them in.”

“Yeah, we may have to wait until the morning to give Trick and guys an update,” Cash says as we pull into the safe house, and he stops the car, “it’s already quite late and we don’t know how long the conversation with Alaric is going to take.”

“Good point,” I reply, heading straight for the coffee as soon as we are through the door. “Will Alaric even reply this late?”

Cash frowns, “I hadn’t thought of that, possibly. I will message him first and see if he is awake, if he replies then great and we will fill him in now, if not we will just wait until the morning and fill him in then.”

“Good idea,” I say, handing him a drink.

Once he has sent the message he glances at me, “Are you okay, after hearing that stuff about Amelia?”

I nod, “Surprisingly yes. It’s not great to hear but she is a stranger to me, and the more I learn about her the happier I am that she is a stranger. I think I have been better off not knowing her.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t sound like a great person,” Cash says, trying to be diplomatic; when I smirk and raise my eyebrow, he chuckles and says, “Fine, she sounds like a raging bitch. It says a lot about the kind of person she is if Hunt said that she was a piece of work.”

“Tell me about it,” I reply, as he repeats the words that I thought to myself earlier in the evening.

Cash’s phone starts to ring and puts a stop to the conversation, he presses the answer button and then immediately puts on speaker so that I can hear as well.

“Are you okay?” Alaric asks immediately, his tone worried.

“We’re fine, we just have an update that we think you’ll probably want to know now rather than later,” Cash reassures him.

“Excellent. I am assuming that we have confirmation that Hunt is still using the shipping yard.” Alaric replies.

“Yes, he is.” I reply, “but that’s not everything.”

I go on to explain all about what we heard, the shooting of the guy, the insight into the way that he works the shipments with the small shipments leading up to the large one that is in a couple of weeks. I even tell him about Amelia because he knows all about her and my mixed feelings on her since he is family, and me telling him was less job information and more about me telling a family member about it.

“Oh Ever, are you okay?” he asks as soon as I have finished telling him and it says a lot that it's that question that he chooses to ask first.

Family comes first always.

“Yeah, I am. With every new thing I learn about her I like her less,” I reply.

“I think that’s pretty understandable; we haven’t heard many redeeming qualities about her, I must admit,” Alaric agrees.

“No, we haven’t. Anyway, sorry for pulling the focus away from the job,” I reply with a frown.

“Don’t be ridiculous. This case is a personal one for us and things are going to get mixed together, that is how it is, and you know I love it when you talk to me, you are my family.” Alaric replies.

Cash smiles and then replies, “That’s why you’re our favorite uncle.”

“I knew it, I’m going to tell D,” Alaric jokes.

“I predict another one of your competitions is about to start,” I joke.

Alaric, chuckles, “Oh definitely.”