“Finger on the trigger.”
“Yep. The boat will come from that direction.” Sasha leaned across the cab, pointing to the gentle waves out Vinny’s window. Her chest brushed against his arm, and he turned to face her. Warm breath flowed over her cheek, and her throat clamped shut. She backed away, swallowing hard. “You’re supposed to be watching.”
“Right.” Vinny adjusted his perfectly fine belt, his eyes darting back to his window. “What am I watching for?”
“When the boat gets close, it’ll blink its lights. Three times, once, then twice. Got that?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you flash the running lights twice.”
Vinny recited the information in a near whisper when a pattern of lights flickered from the dark stretch of water. The trees lit up as he pulled a knob on the dashboard and a boat’s motor revved.
“You ready?” Sasha asked, opening her door.
While nodding, Vinny reached for the handle and missed.
“Relax.” Sasha jumped to the ground. “They’ll smell your fear.” A grin spread across her lips as she strolled to the front of the semi. When Vinny stepped beside her, she slapped on a tough leer, nodded, and walked toward the dock.
A charter boat moored beside the concrete wharf, sending little waves to rush onshore. Dim beams of moonlight shimmered off an emblem of a falcon amid flames, the words Gulf Runner Tours scrawled in red along the bow.
“Is that my Sasha?” Felix climbed from the boat, his short stubby legs barely clearing its tall side. He stopped on the pier, smoothed the ends of his white suit, and slid his fingers along the brim of his matching hat. With outstretched arms, he traipsed forward. “My girl.”
“Uncle Felix,” Sasha said, her smile spreading wide.
After scooping Sasha into a tight embrace, Felix stopped to eye Vinny. “Who’s this?”
Before Sasha could answer, a flood of men surrounded Vinny—rifles raised, guns cocked. Vinny froze mid-step.
“This is Vinny. He’s our new runner.”
The barrels remained aimed at Vinny’s chest, his nervous eyes on Sasha.
“¿Está la policía?” Felix asked, staring into Vinny’s eyes.
“I, uh.” Vinny’s cheeks turned red as he shrugged.
“You know. El hombre. The fuzz.” Felix nodded, and the man beside him patted Vinny down.
“Nah, he’s cool.” Sasha inched back, allowing the men to roughly frisk Vinny. “Known the guy since second grade. Poor bastard hasn’t stopped following me since.”
“Smart man.” Felix waved his hand, sending his men back to the boat. He placed his hands on Sasha’s shoulders, rubbing softly. “To what do I owe the honor of your presence, my dear?”
“Just training the new guy. And I missed you, of course.”
Felix chuckled, his chest heaving, as a line of men hauled crates to the back of the truck behind him. “I’m happy to see you, dear, but…isn’t this a little beneath you?”
Sasha frowned, her gaze dropping to the still patchless breast of her jacket. “We’ve had some issues. Satan’s Crew. You might be seeing a lot more of me.”
“Pinche maricon,” Felix muttered, his expression turning venomous for the briefest of seconds. “It’ll be nice to see your face more often, but I’d like to see a patch on that skin.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Sometimes I don’t know what Ellen is thinking. Ahh, if I were twenty years younger, I’d whisk you away from all this. But then, you’re too good for me.” Felix glided his thumb along Sasha’s cheek, sparking a smile. “You know you can call me anytime if the shit gets thick. Your enemies are my enemies, no matter who they are. ¿Comprendes?”
“Si. Gracias. You’re too kind, Felix.”
“Only to you, my dear, only to you.”
The cargo door of the semi slammed shut. Men gathered by the dock, clinging to their rifles, and Sasha looked at Vinny. “The case,” she said, motioning to Felix.
Vinny crept forward, handed over a black briefcase, and nodded.
“I don’t know about this one, princess.” Felix rubbed his smooth chin, eyeing Vinny. “Too stiff, fidgety.”
After another round of hugs and soft Spanish words, Felix left Sasha’s side and returned to the charter boat. Her smile faded as the little red light of the stern disappeared behind mist.
“How is that man your uncle?” Vinny asked, scanning Sasha from head to toe. “You don’t look Mexican.”
“He’s not my real uncle.” Sasha glared at Vinny like the dummy he was, walking toward her truck. “C’mon, let’s hammer down. It’s a long ride home.”
Chapter Six
Ellen
A diesel engine rumbled the clubhouse floor, and Ellen rose from her desk. She peeked out the window of the backroom as Dez jumped from the shining cab of a semi. His tight jeans hugged every curve as he walked, bringing a smirk to her lips.
Cheers rang out from the bar, echoing through the doorway of the backroom. Ellen strolled to the threshold, staring into the bar. Women swarmed Dez by the pool table, rowdy locals filed through the open door, and speakers crackled to life.
In almost slow motion, Dez steered his gaze to her, and she dipped her head. He cut through the crowd, walking into the backroom, and she shut the door.
“How was your run?” Ellen leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. It was hard not to stare. His large muscles had doubled in size since he’d gone away, and those eyes of his seemed even bluer.
“Like skinning a biker,” Dez said.
Her own chuckle caught her by surprise, and she flung off the grin.
“What’s up, prez?”
“This vote might go downhill for you. Sasha has Chewy, Vinny, and Kev. You…”
“Don’t you want your daughter to be sergeant at arms?”
“Yeah. Maybe in five years. She’s not ready yet. The girl’s sloppy, wild. She’ll get herself killed.” Ellen’s stare sharpened, and Dez shifted. “I think Sasha will back down if she’s challenged.”
Dez squirmed in his chair, his jaw clenching. “You mean—”
“No. Sasha needs a heavy hand, just not that kind of heavy. You dig what I’m saying?”
A devious gleam ran through Dez’s eye, followed by a snicker. “I got ya.”
“Go.” Ellen motioned to the closed door. “Enjoy your party.”
***
Sasha
Sasha passed Vinny a lit cigarette. The last six hours flew by, thanks to his endless chatter about their past misadventures. She had forgotten half the dumb shit they’d done, until now.
“How much longer?” Vinny asked, wiggling in his seat.
“About an hour. We should catch the tail-end of your brother’s party.”
“Don’t we have to unload this shit at the warehouse?”
“No. Only the prez and road captain know the location of the warehouse.”
“And you,” Vinny said, glancing at Sasha.
“Right. That’s different. When my dad was prez, he took me everywhere with him, even let me drive the forklift to unload the crates.” Sasha turned her gaze to the window, leaning into a gentle breeze. “I stole one of those teddy bears when I was nine. Two years later, I found out what was in them, ripped the head off, and smoked that shit. It was all dry and flakey, nasty.”