Paid Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 3)

by Morgan Kelley

  “I guarantee it. Your sister should just ask Chris. I’ve learned a lot from my past when it comes to assuming.” He was thinking about Brynn. “If you assume, it’s generally worse. It’s best to ask.”

  She understood.

  “Natasha doesn’t know where she stands with Chris. She saw the news reports.”

  “She’s his. We all know that. The news makes up stories. I saw it too. It looked like Emma trying to screw with the reporters. She had that look on her face.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’d bet my life on it.”

  Kat relaxed. “If you say so.”

  He handed her a fork. “Feed Sadie. I need to make sure my girls are good.”

  She did what he said, and then cuddled against him. Katerina couldn’t imagine her life without this man.

  She got what her sister was upset about, but she tended to want to believe her husband.

  He knew them all.

  He wouldn’t lie.

  The Crofts loved them, and they’d do anything to protect them.

  The family took care of its own.

  Chapter Thirteen

  FBI Las Vegas

  Monday

  Early

  W hen he showed up, no one was expecting it, and that was exactly what Ethan Blackhawk had wanted. He wanted to catch them all off guard so he could do his thing. This office had been a pain in the ass for years. It started with corruption under Director Green, and it had been cleaned up with Greyson Croft, only to be a mess again with Robert Lee.

  This was taking time from his busy life, and that made him cranky. Plus, he knew that the FBI was only as good as the law enforcement agencies around it.

  That was an issue in Vegas.

  The police there…

  Yeah, a mess.

  So, as he walked up the stairs, his security in tow, there were stares. Then phones came out, and the call went out. He wanted to laugh.

  They were warning the minions.

  Well, he could deal with that.

  Once inside the building, he cleared security without even having to go through the detectors. His team walked him toward the elevators, and the man he was looking for magically appeared.

  Perfect.

  “Your office,” Ethan said, not mincing any words. He was over this, and he’d promised to buy Greyson some time. If he wanted the FBI to be cleaned up, he needed the cops policed, and there was no way to do that without a little good old vigilantism from the friendly neighborhood mob.

  He trusted the Crofts to handle their city or he was going to be coming back, and that didn’t entertain him at all.

  It was time for the fun to begin.

  Robert Lee took him upstairs, and all the while, he was watching him. Ethan Blackhawk was known to catch people off guard, and this surprised him.

  He was doing his job, hitting up meetings, and making sure that they were above the rules. Robert was doing his best in a city that didn’t stop oozing trouble from every single entity.

  Before now, he thought he was doing a good job, and Robert didn’t get why he was here.

  He was just about to ask him.

  “We have a problem,” Ethan said, as the elevator opened.

  There were stares as agents stood and peeked over their cubicles to get a look at him. Ethan knew he was an enigma to them all, and that was amusing in itself.

  He was simply a Fed doing his job—the job of policing his and Gabe’s minions.

  When he turned his head to glance at them, they sat to avoid his gaze. His reputation had preceded him, and he was glad. This place was a mess, and he was going to fix it.

  Las Vegas was becoming his pet project.

  Lucky them.

  When they found out, there’d be a lot of unhappy Feds running around.

  He wanted to laugh.

  “What kind of issues are you talking about, sir?”

  They headed into his office, and Ethan didn’t sit on the couch, or the guest chair.

  He sat behind the desk.

  It was a power play, and he’d had Gabe do it to him while he was running FBI West. The higher man on the totem pole got the leather seat at the big boy desk.

  That’s how they rolled.

  “Why the bloody hell are there three undercover units assigned to sit outside Greyson Croft’s home?” he asked, calling Robert Lee out on his shit.

  Ethan didn’t like to waste time.

  The man’s mouth opened.

  Then closed.

  “It had better not have anything to do with the police in this town requesting surveillance on them because that request was denied.”

  Director Lee opened his mouth again.

  “Don’t.”

  He closed it.

  “I already know my answer, and I’m not happy. You can say that’s why I’m here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you out of your mind, Director Lee?” Ethan asked. When he opened his mouth again, Ethan stopped him. “That was rhetorical.”

  The man began sweating.

  Ethan continued, “We have a lawyer breathing down our necks, and I don’t have paperwork that correlates with any valid surveillance requests. Here’s where you talk and you had better pray I like the answers or someone’s head is rolling out of here, and it won’t be mine.”

  Director Lee was NOT going down for anyone outside the FBI. The commissioner was on his own from this point out. Director Lee wanted to keep his job, and lying to this man was a bad idea.

  Once you did that, and he found out…

  DEAD career.

  “Sir, the commissioner asked for assistance. The Crofts have been…”

  He stopped him.

  “The Crofts have been cleared of everything the police have thrown at them, correct?”

  “Yes, sir, but they just came to me yesterday with intel that Greyson is forging police documentation in an attempt to frame the homicide captain.”

  He stared at him. “Proof.”

  He didn’t have it.

  That was the issue.

  “Sir.”

  “I want the proof, or I want those vans pulled out of there in the next five minutes. I get that you’re trying to corral a whole lot of crazy, Robert, but we answer to the taxpayers. I, personally, answer to Gabe Rothschild and the President of the United States, and you don’t want to be on that call, now do you?”

  He shook his head.

  “We cannot afford a million-dollar lawsuit or bad press at this point. Vegas is a mess, and do you know who goes down for that one? The answer is not ME.”

  He got it.

  “Call them off.”

  Robert grabbed the phone and made the call. While he did, Ethan sat there trying not to smile.

  That was easier than it should have been.

  As the man got the person he needed on the phone, he rattled off his order, “Authorization on ‘Operation Grey Menace’ is cancelled. Everyone back to the office.”

  Ethan wanted to laugh.

  That was the lamest code name…but at least he’d bought Croft some time. Greyson had been his choice to run FBI West at his departure, but his choice to kill Dominic Marianna ended that. Now he was dealing with Miles Lane, and this jackassery as Greyson took the heat.

  Robert Lee hung up the phone.

  “All done, sir. How’s your lovely wife?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

  Ethan didn’t bat an eyelash. Instead, he stared the man down, daring him to say something stupid.

  “Elizabeth is good, but if you see her here, be afraid,” he said, leaning back in the chair.

  Oh, Robert was aware.

  There were rumors going through the FBI that she’d been tasked to handle a few of the issues that were not quite in or out of the scope of the FBI. She was taking down some people who’d crossed the line as the President’s ax woman.

  Robert didn’t want to see her in Vegas.

  Ever.

  “Since we’re talking about ba
d shit being mismanaged,” Ethan said, “I want to direct your attention to a case you’re handling.”

  “Yes, sir, which one?”

  “The sex trafficking issue that the FBI has been working on for the last six months.”

  Ethan waited for the whining and belly aching over it. He knew it was coming.

  Three.

  Two.

  One…

  “Sir, that wasn’t my mess. Greyson Croft…”

  He cut him off.

  “He started the investigation, and you were to finish it. What’s going on?”

  “We can’t find anything. We have that one name, and that’s it.”

  “Refresh my memory. What’s the name?”

  “Anthony Delmarco. We’ve been tracking him, and he went off the grid about two weeks ago. We think he’s lying low in Vegas until we back off.”

  Perfect.

  If they pulled the Feds, that would spread like wildfire, and it might draw the man to the surface.

  Here was one more gift to Croft.

  “I need you to call off the operations for about a week. If they see the FBI backing off, maybe they will come out of the woodwork.”

  “Yes, sir, that’s an excellent idea, sir. I should have thought to do that, sir.”

  Ethan fought not to laugh.

  “I mean, it’s your office, but that’s what I’d do in a stalled case that’s been picking up cobwebs the last year.”

  He picked up the phone and dialed.

  Ethan smiled.

  Well, his work here was done.

  It was up to Greyson to do his job, and find him a sex trafficker. He trusted him to do it.

  Ethan pulled out his cell, and texted his wife.

  ‘The raven is clear. Eagle has pulled out the hunters. Head in and do your thing.’

  He waited a reply.

  ‘Copy. Raven heading in. See you at the bird, Eagle. Pick me up some breakfast. I’m always hungry after a game, and it better have real freaking butter!’

  Ethan smiled to himself.

  Well, some things didn’t change.

  “Now, since that’s done,” Ethan said, standing from Robert’s desk, “how about you show me around? I haven’t been to this building before.”

  The man scurried to the door.

  “Yes, sir! Let’s grab a coffee, and I’ll show you what Vegas has to offer in law enforcement.”

  He grinned.

  Yeah, show him.

  Ethan had a feeling this was far from over, and he would be coming back.

  Only, it wouldn’t be alone.

  And that was a problem.

  For Robert Lee.

  * * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *

  Terrace Glen

  Greyson was searching for the two men, and he had a sneaking suspicion where they would be. It was training time in the gym before work, and he knew Dimitri and Chris would be working out to get ready for their day.

  Awesome.

  They had to have a little conversation, and by that, he meant someone had to have their ass handed to them for the stunt they’d pulled last night.

  Yes, it ended well.

  Yes, he’d had the hottest sex with his wife.

  No, it wasn’t forgiven. He wasn’t mad, but sometimes, you had to teach an important lesson to people you loved.

  Heading in, he could see the two men sparing in the corner. They were both getting sweaty, and Greyson was going to bide his time. As soon as they both turned around, so they weren’t facing him, he crossed the mat, right for the bigger threat. He grabbed Dimitri’s wrist, twisted, and took him to the ground, only to lock a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

  Then he face-planted him on the mat.

  Dimitri looked surprised.

  Then he went for Chris, and the two of them began fighting, Chris was trying to block each swing, but Greyson wasn’t exhausted from an hour of working out.

  Chris was backed into the corner, and he took a shot to the chest, taking him to his knees. He just happened to see Dimitri trying to sneak up behind him and moved just in time.

  The men went down in a sweaty pile of limbs and grunts.

  Greyson stood over them, his hands on his hips.

  “Now, was that a fair fight?” he asked, staring down at the two men.

  “Well, you skipped training,” Dimitri began, only to take a shot to the gut from Greyson’s booted foot.

  “Someone’s cranky,” he muttered, lying on his back, arms pinned behind him.

  “Get up, Captain Ford,” Greyson said, glaring at him.

  The man knew he couldn’t take him. His body was sore from Dimitri beating on him.

  All he could hope was Greyson wouldn’t make him bleed too much.

  Chris stood.

  Greyson moved toward him and hugged him.

  It caught him off guard.

  “Thank you for having the courage to face me when I was in a bad place. Thank you for always putting my wife’s heart first, even if it meant me being pissy. I can’t tell you how much that means to me,” he said, holding him.

  “Um…”

  “And if you ever do that again, I’m going to break your freaking fingers, and then shove them down your throat.”

  He laughed.

  Now that was what he was expecting.

  “It’s no problem,” he said, still picturing himself swallowing a fist full of fingers.

  “Seriously, thank you.”

  Chris stared at him. “I love your wife, and I’d do anything for you. You’re my brother.”

  “If died tomorrow?” he asked.

  “I’d have her ass at that little chapel on the strip,” he teased.

  Only Greyson got it.

  The man was being honest. Whether they liked it or not, Chris had feelings for Emma, and they were reciprocated. Greyson wouldn’t let it bother him.

  It mattered.

  “I’m not shocked.”

  Chris didn’t look away.

  They shared a look.

  “Um, you seem to be forgetting my sister,” Dimitri said, kicking his leg out and sweeping Chris to the floor. “She’s attached to you.”

  Chris landed with a thud.

  “Commie bastard,” Chris muttered, back on his ass. “You are a total asshole.”

  “Get up, Dimitri,” Greyson said, making a key appear.

  “If I died tomorrow,” he began.

  “I’d kill Chris so I could have Emma and her piano playing all to myself.”

  “HEY!” Chris said from the floor.

  “You’re in a relationship. Let’s be realistic. She’d be mine,” Dimitri teased. “Who are you kidding?”

  He had a point.

  As soon as Dimitri was free, Greyson hugged him.

  “I know that you’re not big on affection, but here it is. You’re the second person in charge of this family. If I go down, it’s on you. I want you to watch my back from the most dangerous person.”

  “Dimitri?” Chris muttered.

  Greyson laughed. “No, I meant…”

  “Himself,” Dimitri stated. “We are all our own worst enemies.”

  And it was true. Greyson’s anger sometimes got the best of him. Chris let his heart get him into trouble, and Dimitri…his past haunted him.

  “Exactly,” Croft said. “Sometimes, I forget that I have to follow the rules.”

  “Greyson.”

  “I have to be a better man than they give me credit, for my wife and for my son.”

  They stared at him.

  “Yes, Emma thinks it’s going to be a boy. I don’t want them calling him crooked or bad. I have to do this the right way, but when I go over, I need you to reel me in—if not for me, then for Emma. I know you both love her, and you will both make sure I do right by her. You’re both my best friends, and my accountability.”

  They were both touched because the feeling was mutual. Somehow, an ex-Fed, a retired cop, and a criminal had become as thick as thieves. They were strong because o
f their friendship.

  They were unbreakable because of love.

  Dimitri patted him on the arm. “I will.”

  Greyson relaxed.

  Dimitri helped Chris up.

  “I’m in, but I still get Emma, right?” Chris stated, taking an elbow to the gut.

  “That was for my sister,” Dimitri said, knowing the man was only trying to lighten the mood.

  “You’re an asshole,” Chris said, nearly puking.

  “Ah, if I only had a dollar…”

  Greyson dropped his arms over their shoulders. “Let’s grab breakfast, get the family ready, and then head out. We have another club to hit.”

  “I’ll go with Emma,” Chris offered, wiggling his eyebrows.

  “Dimitri?”

  He slugged him again.

  “You suck,” Chris said, this time blocking the shot.

  Greyson laughed. “I like having someone to do my dirty work,” he teased.

  Chris…

  Not so much.

  In the kitchen, the family was convening to get the game plan for the day. Every morning, they had breakfast together before heading out.

  Kat was there with Curtis, ready for their first Lamaze class.

  Nat was having a yogurt, leaning against the counter. Dante was sitting with Steele in his lap as they talked about the wedding in less than a week.

  Then Emma came in.

  She was dressed, and looked a bit frazzled.

  “Has anyone seen Greyson?” she asked.

  “He was looking for Chris and Dimitri a few moments ago,” Curtis said, giving her a hug. Then it hit him. “Are you wearing body armor?” he asked.

  “Yeah, Dimitri has insisted, and the men ganged up on me. We should all be wearing it,” she stated.

  Curtis laughed. “You lost your boobs in it, Mom.”

  She pointed at him. “You’re going to lose your tongue when I yank it out for saying that in mixed company. You know better.”

  “Someone is cranky today,” he teased, when she winked at him. “No one likes Mondays.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Morning,” Natasha said, as Emma poured her coffee. “How are you this morning?”