No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book

by Morgan Kelley

  “Sucker,” Chris said, laughing all of the way out of the condo.

  Dimitri too.

  “She saw you coming.”

  Oh, he was aware.

  But for his wife?

  Yeah, he’d do just about anything.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Heath’s Condo

  She was all over him.

  No, that was an understatement.

  Nikita had ridden him all-night long, and his body was singing in pain, exhaustion, and sheer glee. It had been the hottest night of sex he’d ever experienced in his life.

  She was just as insatiable as he was, and that worked out. When they’d nap, they’d wake and start all over again.

  It appeared she had a very high sex drive, and liked sex in all kinds of places, positions, and times.

  He was good with that.

  As she was molesting his mouth, her hands all over his body, he got the text.

  SHIT!

  He was late for work.

  “I have to go,” he muttered. “We have to go.”

  Only, she needed him.

  “One more time,” she begged, dropping his zipper and pulling him from his pants.

  This woman had him under a spell.

  That was clear.

  She was a gypsy or witch.

  “One more,” he muttered, yanking her pants down, spinning her, and taking her over the arm of his couch. When he sank into her body, he sighed.

  “Come on, lover. Make me cum.”

  He was going to get those words tattooed on his damn body, and then ‘Property of a Marine’ tattooed on hers.

  One specific one.

  He began, pounding his way into her body, his hands were on her hips, and he was checking out that sweet ass.

  Oh, yeah.

  He had one more in him.

  As he drove into her, there was a knock on the door.

  “Coming!”

  Literally.

  He was on the cusp.

  She giggled.

  “Tell your bed buddy to get down to the car. She has five minutes,” Greyson shouted through the door when he heard her voice. “You are on Emma duty!”

  With that, they were gone, and Heath could carry on. He flipped her, dropped her feet over his shoulders, and balanced her on the side of the couch.

  She looked so sexy splayed out like that.

  Then he ground his fingers onto her swollen, sensitive clit to shove her over the edge and take him with her.

  She came.

  AND HARD.

  Heath was right behind her, his balls aching from the night of abuse.

  He poured what was left of him into her and rested over her body.

  “Princess, you’re lethal,” he muttered.

  “You don’t say, lover.”

  When he picked up his head, he gently touched her cheek with his big, warm palm.

  “Be safe, Nikita.”

  Her heart skipped.

  How was it possible this man got through her defenses after only one night of sex?

  “Will I see more of you later?” she asked, as he pulled out, zipped up, and then handed Nikita her pants.

  Oh, he’d love that.

  He needed to rehydrate for another night of insane sex. He was feeling three days past desert dry.

  “I’ll buy you dinner since you played dessert all-night,” he offered.

  “I like meat.”

  He laughed.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I know it,” he said, his dick sore. She’d proved it.

  “I meant burgers,” she said, going up on her toes to give him a soft kiss.

  He got all mushy inside.

  “Burgers it is, princess.”

  Nikita got dressed, pulled on her gear, loaded her guns, and saluted him.

  “It’s a date.”

  And with that, she was gone, and Heath knew one thing.

  He was in love.

  With the most dangerous woman in the world.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  At the car, they were waiting for her.

  The three men all had that look on their faces. It said one thing.

  They were judging her.

  “Don’t be haters,” she said, fixing her ponytail. “Just because you three aren’t getting laid.”

  Greyson stared at her.

  She was right.

  All three of them were in the same abstinence boat. He was about to go into six weeks of no sex, Chris was single, and Dimitri’s babe had been assaulted.

  Shit.

  What the hell had happened to their world?

  “God. She has a point. Heath is getting laid and none of us are.”

  She smiled.

  “He’s getting laid a lot.”

  This was all kinds of awkward, and she knew it. That was exactly why she’d said it. All three men didn’t know what to do with it.

  Was she one of the boys?

  One of the girls?

  Did she have a whole other category?

  They weren’t sure, but her complete honesty with having sex made them vastly uncomfortable.

  Clearly.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, velcroing into her body armor as they gave her time to get ready and brought her up to speed.

  They told her what they had planned to do, and she listened without saying a word.

  “You need something to scare him stupid. I mean so afraid he won’t dare go to the cops,” she stated.

  “Like?”

  She smiled.

  “What is a cop who did dirty deeds afraid of most?” she asked.

  “More dirty deeds?” Greyson asked.

  “Yep.”

  Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked Dimitri. “It’s going to point him right at you and Poppy. We already know he’s sick and likes revenge.”

  She would be safe in their condo.

  They all would.

  “He can come for me. I have you guys watching me. As for Poppy, he can’t reach her. She’s safe in Sky Villa. If we force his hand, he’ll do something stupid. I need a way to prove he sent that killer after Poppy, and he threatened her. I need to take him down for that.”

  They got it.

  They did.

  Only, the risk…

  It was high.

  “I have your back,” Chris stated. “We’ll keep the womenfolk safe.”

  “You’re an ass,” Nikita stated.

  “I meant the pregnant one who is carrying the next Croft, and Poppy.”

  She got it.

  Greyson sighed.

  “I’m in. I have your back too,” Greyson offered.

  They all looked at Nikita.

  She laughed.

  “I’m the hired thug. Blackhawk wants you safe. You want him safe. I’m in. Let’s have a party.”

  That didn’t sound good.

  At all.

  Then again, they should know better. This was going to be a clusterfuck.

  Again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jeffrey Raye’s

  House

  A ll night, he was stressed about what he was going to do about Poppy Wayne escaping him. Her being alive was dangerous to his new life. The woman knew too much. She’d seen that folder on his desk, and he didn’t doubt that she’d get the Crofts to do something about it. In fact, if she didn’t, he’d be shocked and surprised.

  He knew if he were holding that card, there was no way he’d not use it to get ahead. People were all the same. All they wanted was fame, wealth, and success.

  She would be no different.

  So, it was a matter of time.

  As he came down the stairs in his new mansion that he’d bought with his ill-gotten gains, he was lost in thought over what he was going to do.

  He was definitely troubled as he headed into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. If he didn’t get this handled, there would be a ton of tro
uble in Vegas that he didn’t need.

  Okay, he needed to chill out and relax.

  Regroup.

  Rethink.

  So, he’d have his coffee, watch the news, and spy on everyone’s favorite pain in the ass.

  The Crofts.

  He needed to keep his eyes on them.

  There was no doubt that Greyson Croft was up to something. He couldn’t forget that he’d seen him on the news going in and coming out of the FBI building.

  No.

  He wasn’t an idiot.

  Jeffrey no longer had anyone on his side in that building. Word out was that Ethan Blackhawk had sealed the cracks. Then again, he saw the young pretty girl who was running the show.

  Talk about filling the ship with young agents who were babies compared to him. There was no way she was qualified to do anything but get on her knees and give a man some head.

  She’d be his best chance of access.

  Later, when Poppy Wayne was handled, he’d work on the FBI situation. There was always a chance that he could go after the new director. She might help him with taking back the city.

  As he headed into the living room, he sat on the plush couch, turned on the TV, and muttered to himself.

  “What are you up to, Croft?” he asked, as the media played the clip of Greyson entering and exiting the building.

  He felt something cold and very familiar touch the back of his skull.

  And heard a click.

  His hand shook.

  “Well, that’s ironic,” Greyson said, coming around to sit in the chair across from him. “We meet again.”

  The man swallowed as his whole tone of skin color went from that rage red to a near-death gray.

  Yeah, he knew his time had come.

  Jeffrey knew he was dead.

  Behind Greyson, there was a familiar face.

  Dimitri didn’t look happy.

  “Can I shoot him?” Nikita asked. “If you give me the go, you should move. You might get messy. You know how brain splatter is.”

  Greyson smiled.

  “Later, you can kill him any way you want. For now, we need to have a talk.”

  Jeffrey knew he was screwed.

  He knew, at that moment, he was NEVER going to leave that house again.

  HE.

  WAS.

  DEAD.

  “What do you want?” he asked, trying to find a way out of all of this. “Why are you here, Croft?”

  Yeah, he knew why.

  Damn Poppy Wayne and her meddling. This was exactly why she had to die.

  THIS RIGHT HERE.

  “I’m just here to talk.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  Jeffrey knew he was dealing with the king of sneaky. If he said anything, it could exacerbate the situation.

  Not that it wasn’t already bad.

  Really bad.

  “It’s been brought to our attention that you’ve begun connecting yourself to Zachary Lipton.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Let me make this clear. He’s doing really illegal things with escorts. I’m going to make him hang for that. You know how I feel about peddling and buying flesh in MY TOWN.”

  Jeffrey tried to stay calm.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stated.

  Greyson laughed.

  “Liar. You know he’s killing women. You’re a man of opportunity. You know he’s having his guy, Harold Cline, pickup call girls, and then he uses and kills them. It’s not happening in my town, Jeff. It’s not going to go down here. I’m stopping it.”

  He swallowed.

  “How’d you get in here?” he asked, changing the subject.

  Fast.

  “Your security sucks,” Dimitri offered, knowing Chris was outside acting as the lookout just in case. That was why they needed all four of them.

  The gun.

  The feared one.

  The lookout.

  And him.

  Dimitri tossed a little black box in the air and caught it. That one thing got them into the compound.

  “In fact, whoever told you it was good…lied,” he stated. “Then again, we can get through just about anything. Keep that in mind.”

  Jeffrey looked scared shitless.

  That was perfect.

  Only, they weren’t done.

  Greyson snapped his fingers and got his attention. He wanted it on him. If he was going to go after anyone, he wanted that to be him.

  NOT his family.

  “It’s also been brought to our attention that you hired Claude Black to kill Poppy Wayne.”

  He didn’t speak but his face said it all.

  “Well, bad news. He missed.”

  Oh, that was what he expected. When it came to killing anyone tied to the Crofts, they were like cats. They had more freaking lives than anyone he knew.

  Damn it!

  “Jeffrey, Jeffrey, Jeffrey. When will you stop your stupid games and realize that you will NOT beat me?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He didn’t buy that for a second.

  NO.

  FUCKING.

  WAY.

  In fact, it made him angry.

  “Nikita.”

  She pistol-whipped him once, breaking the skin. His blood dripped onto the white couch.

  “Oops. You fell. You should be more careful.”

  “I’ll call the cops,” he warned.

  Greyson laughed.

  “They aren’t your biggest fans, Jeffy boy. You see, that’s why I was at the FBI building. There was a huge meeting of the Vegas superpowers. The Feds, the cops, and me. Want to know who I put the target on?” he asked, smiling wickedly.

  The man looked freaked-out.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Greyson knew it was time to make him believe.

  “Nikita?” he asked.

  She came around and placed her booted foot on his chest and placed the gun on his forehead between his eyes.

  “In this house, which is lovely by the way, I’ve stashed some contraband. You know…drugs, a few discs that I made up with some documents claiming you’re working for an outside government….”

  That was all it took.

  He looked scared.

  “You didn’t.”

  Greyson cleared his throat.

  She whacked him again.

  Then she moved to stand behind Greyson, but kept her gun trained on him.

  “You insulted my friend here,” he said, pointing at Dimitri. “You had a scumbag rape his girlfriend. That’s bad, Jeffrey.”

  Oh, he was aware now.

  They were in his damn home.

  He thought he was safe.

  APPARENTLY NOT.

  “I’m not really happy,” Greyson stated. “You went to see her in the hospital to get her to run. In fact, you threatened my associate’s children. BIG MISTAKE.”

  “So shoot me already.”

  Greyson laughed.

  “No, I’m going to do something even better. I’m giving you twenty-four hours to find what we’ve hidden. Then, I’m calling in a favor. You saw me going into the FBI building. I now have their ear, and in Vegas, we all know what that means. He who controls the cops controls the city, right?”

  The man’s heart thumped.

  They could see his carotid jump.

  He actually believed that he had the cops in his pocket. That was funny shit and worked in their favor.

  “You’re going to jail,” Jeffrey stated defiantly.

  Greyson was amused.

  “You think so, huh? Then I’ll see you there. I’m going to tie you to Poppy Wayne’s assault, and I’ll make sure I have all of the muscle in prison too. Your ass is…well, screwed.”

  He looked like he was going to puke.

  “Nikita, you’re up.”

  She didn’t hesitate.

  In fact, she smiled.

  Nikita screwed a silencer onto her gun, and then aimed for
his junk. When she pulled the trigger, it blew a hole in his couch, between his thighs.

  The man pissed himself.

  Greyson was satisfied. His work was done—for now. Jeffrey would keep his mouth shut and know he was on his radar. That was the best outcome.

  “As soon as I take down Lipton, for killing those girls—by proxy of his goon—or himself, I’m going to make sure I tie all this money to laundering, illegal doings, or theft. I know how much your wife’s life insurance was. I own the company that paid it out. I’m going to make your life uncomfortable. Someone was stealing money and doing illegal things, Jeffy boy. Your days are limited. Tick freaking tock.”

  The man’s eyes went huge.

  “That’s right. Be afraid. Your time is almost up. I could kill you now, but that’s too easy. They’d know who did it. I’ll make it look random.”

  He got up.

  “The clock is running out on your time in Vegas,” he stated. “Find those drugs and documents or someone’s going to jail.”

  He motioned to them both, and they headed out, Nikita blowing him a kiss as they walked out.

  Outside, they got into their vehicle that Chris had running.

  “It’s been quiet. Is he dead?” Chris asked.

  Greyson laughed.

  “No, but he pissed himself,” he said, telling him what happened. “Right now, he’s destroying his own house to find something we never planted.”

  Chris laughed his ass off.

  “Clever.”

  “Thank you,” Nikita said, grinning from the backseat beside Greyson. “I used that trick once before in Germany. The man nearly went insane.”

  “Let’s go,” Dimitri stated. “The clock is ticking,” he admitted, as Dimitri handed Nikita the box. As soon as they were out of the area, all of the local cameras would go back on.

  They were scrambling them for a reason.

  Jeffrey Raye was on his own.

  There’d be no police.

  There’d be no mercy.

  Their next meeting would end drastically different. Next time…

  He’d be dead.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Jeffrey Raye was in a panic. First, he rushed to his security system and checked it. It didn’t even show anyone entering or exiting his place.