Cadillac Payback: Rising Tide by AJ Elmore (grave mercy .TXT) 📗

When he sees us, his attention skips immediately from her to me. His brow hardens. Guess he's sizing me up, too. His eyes are wide-set, and his face reminds me of a startled rabbit.

He stands as we approach, and before he can say anything, Mona does.

“Hey, baby, sorry we're late,” and she plants a kiss on his mute lips.

God fucking dammit. She's got to be fucking with me, right? She says baby like she's a teenager, and I want to laugh. That would ruin the moment, though, so I wait for it.

“Who is that?” he asks pointedly.

“Oh,” she says like she just noticed me. “This is Isaiah.”

His eyes go wide as he stares at me, but his gaze narrows quickly enough, and he says, “Your ex?”

How rich. She didn't tell her little boy toy that the new operation would include me, whom he's apparently heard about. What a bitch.

“Mmmmhmmm,” she coos, sugar-coated shit, and she takes a seat.

For a tense moment, the boy wonder doesn't move. He just stares me down. I fucking wish he would make a move. Come at me, pretty boy.

But Mona sharply says, “Sit down, Lucas.”

He huffs angrily, but he obeys her. I flash a one-sided smirk that she can't see from her angle. He can, though, and his eyes narrow again. The mask is back by the time I join them.

“Are you sure he can keep up with the numbers?” asks Lucas.

He's looking at me, but he's asking her like I can't speak for myself. He must have learned that from her. I won't give her time to justify his behavior. I've dealt with brats before.

I say, “Have you ever organized the distribution of thousands of kilos of product to the eastern seaboard?”

A server sets waters in front of us, pretending for all the world that her pretty young self didn't hear what I just said. I snatch the drink menu off the table and scan the beer list. They don't have a good dark, so I settle for a Stella. Mona and Lucas settle for water. Fuck 'em.

When Lucas doesn't answer, I say, “No? Let's just say I can keep up with the fuckin' math.”

He bristles, and lifts his chin, like if he can get his higher than mine, that will prove his superiority. I won't tell him it just leaves him more open for a good upper cut. I swear there's a tiny smirk on Mona's lips.

He slides a manila envelope toward me, and says, “Then here are your figures, and what we are willing to spend. Your job is to ensure that they're not fucking us over with their prices, or setting us up.”

If I know anything about Abuela's operation, it's that they don't fuck around with pricing, and they don't set up their clientele. I'm starting to think that Carlo and Mona are shooting blind here. They have no fucking clue what they're getting into, or who they're dealing with. The thought is an intriguing one. I allow a small, amused smile, close-lipped and smug as fuck.

I say, “Or I could just let them gouge the hell out of you.”

Lucas looks from me to Mona with wide eyes, like he expects her to admonish me. What a sap.

Mona takes a dainty sip, and doesn't look at me when she says, “And you could learn what it feels like when the gouging is on you.”

Lucas's shock deepens, and his mouth works silently. I guess he didn't know his princess doesn't have a heart. I know she's not bluffing, and I almost believe she would stick a knife in me herself, if she could avoid getting blood on her shoes.

Still, this is a fun game.

The server has returned, and her cheeks are red as she avoids looking at any of us. She sets the beer in front of me, and I gently touch her hand. She startles, and her gaze darts to me.

I hold her eyes and say, “Thanks.”

Her blush deepens and she scurries away. I watch her leave, watch her young ass sway, and shrug.

I say, “Or they could kill me first.”

I look back to the present company in time to see Mona's gaze slide steadily to me sideways. Baited. My point.

“Why would they do that, you left on good terms,” she says.

Her voice is still fake-sweet and I don't quite believe the confidence behind it.

I take a sip of my Stella, watching her over the rim. The cold hoppy beer tastes good against the heat of the day. There's a nice breeze blowing in off the waves. I take my time, make a show of it. I don't like to do it, and I don't do it very often, but I will take a rookie to school. Mr. Boat Shoes has been dismissed without a word, and I'm sure he doesn't even realize it's happened yet.

I'm looking Mona in the eye when I say, “I didn't leave on bad terms, but Abuela's weird about someone who leaves the organization.” I make a mock gun out of my fingers and thumb, and tap them against my temple. “There's a lot of dangerous information in here. She doesn't like to take chances.”

That's not exactly true. Abuela loves poker, but I don't believe Mona has a basis on which to call my bluff. She and her father and her little prick might think they're being mum on the details – but they're giving me enough to figure out what's actually going on here.

Mona finally turns her full attention to me, finally she decides that I'm worthy of a turn of her head. I hold the contact, and her eyes narrow. Suspicion. She doesn't speak right away, though, and again I'm in awe of her restraint. She won't see that in my expression.

Her voice is measured when she says, “I don't think it will be a problem.”

She's good. She's learned a thing or two about manipulating a situation. Some details can't be gleaned from body language, and there's something big hiding behind