by Posey Parks
“Ok we have access to three trucks. I’ll need my snipers as backup perched on a mountain. That’s Nadine, Zoey, and Sydney.”
They nodded.
“Sierra, Emoni, and Carmen you’re with me.”
I raised two fingers. “Make sure you’re wearing your earbuds for communication. Assassins much like the mafia, we love our muzzles. We can’t have witnesses. I brought my make-up kit. This isn’t your normal make-up bag. There is a full array of wigs and prosthetics. We’ll wear baseball caps and sunglasses too. Questions?”
“What do we tell our husbands if they call?” Emoni asked, shoving her Glock in her waist holster.
“That we’re sightseeing. Tomorrow you can tell them whatever you want. We don’t need any interference on this mission.” I cozied against my threaded fingers behind my head.
Carmen nodded.
Sitting around the huge red circle booth, we sipped OJ and scoured the menus.
The colorful vintage jukebox in the corner nabbed my attention. It reminded me of the one at the pizza place in Idaho. Hunter and I had eaten there with our fathers while on a mission.
This job had to go as planned. The disappointed stare I’d receive from Jacob would be punishment enough for not bringing him up to speed.
The waitress approached, pad and pen in hand. The pink and black uniform fit snug on her short frame.
Her smile was bright as the bulbs in a movie marquee. “Ladies are you ready to order?”
“Yes.” Zoey placed her menu flat on the table.
She deserved to order first. Zoey’s been through her fair share of shit lately.
She didn’t hesitate to drive the oversized motor coach. Hopefully, she used that time to reflect on our recent conversation. A plastic smile covered my lips as I stared at her. The smile was indeed fake. Cramps struck my stomach. My friend was stressed. Her bitter words stung last night, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Zoey lashed out at me because she swam farther into the ocean. She was drowning. She and Brandon were great together. We’d do everything in our power to drive them back to one another. Like Jacob and I had done before.
“What can I get you, sweetie?”
Emoni’s elbow rammed into my ribs, bringing me back from my thoughts. Lips tipped up at one end, my eyes shot up, meeting the waitress’s gray-eyed gaze. “I’ll take pancakes with strawberries on top and four strips of bacon. Thank you.”
She collected our menus. “Coming right up.” The waitress padded across the metallic linoleum floor behind the red and white checkered counter. She rattled off our order to the cook.
The flask hovered over my glass as a stream of vodka flowed to the bottom.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the table, squeezing the air in my lungs. Oh shit. Here comes the judgement. The girls pushed their glasses toward me.
I chuckled. “No worries ladies, I have an extra pint in my inner jean jacket pocket.” I wiggled my perfectly arched brows, tapping my jacket.
Carmen snickered. “We might as well enjoy a buzz while we eat a delicious breakfast.”
The sound of bacon and sausage sizzled on the grill. I inhaled the hints of pork floating through the air.
“I agree.” Sydney sipped the laced orange juice.
My fingertips traced over the cold silver edge of the table under my arms.
“Emoni, you won the Soul Train line dance off last night.” I clapped my palms together over my head lightly.
The girls threw their hands together too.
“Yes, boss bitch.” Carmen leaned in and stuck her tongue out.
Emoni extended her hands toward us, blowing kisses.
“Thanks bitches.”
Patrons peeked over their shoulders at us.
Fuck them. We’re on vacation.
“I couldn’t believe we finally slept on the bus last night.” Zoey sipped her spiked coffee.
“Yeah, it was comfortable.” Sierra rested her head against the vinyl seat.
“I hope line dancing is fun.” My hands rested in my lap as I slowly sipped the kicking sweet tea.
“Samantha, you’ll see me with my drink in hand tearing up the floor. Look I’ve been practicing.” Emoni danced in her seat.
“Girl, I’ve practiced too. One of my clients, wedding party line, danced at her reception. She begged me to join in. I caught on fast. I’m ready.” I twirled my hand in the air.
The girls laughed.
“All right, ladies, your plates are smoking hot.” The waitress placed our meals before us.
I sniffed the heaping strawberries sitting on top of my pancakes.
“Thank you,” fell from our lips.
“God, I’m starving.” I slid my knife and fork through the buttery four stack. The second the maple syrup mingled with the pancakes on my tongue, I savored the taste.
“Would anyone like to taste my omelet?” Carmen raised her fork.
“No, enjoy. I couldn’t eat eggs today. Tomorrow is a different story.”
Sydney laughed under her breath. “Yeah, because you secretly love eggs.”
“I know it’s sad. I’m on a one-day break.” My fork dangled in the air as I chomped on a sliver of bacon.
“How would you ladies like to round up the cattle on the ranch tomorrow?” I grinned from ear to ear.
Emoni slapped the table. “Definitely.”
“I hope everyone had fun so far.” I pouted.
Nadine rubbed my hand. “We had the best time. It’s a must we take another girls trip.”
The girls’ faces brightened. “Absolutely.”
STEPPING OFF THE BUS, we clutched our backpack straps and stared at the mediocre red brick warehouse. A light breeze swept through my body. My eyes poured over the girls’ stern faces and the mousy brown and dusk wigs. Only Sydney and Carmen wore short wigs. We wore black Gore-Tex boots, dark jeans, snug T-shirts, and dark jackets. This wasn’t my normal attire for a job, but there was a first time for everything.
Patting my Glock under my shirt, I shouldered Nadine, nodding toward the entrance.
“We’ve got your back.” Sierra tapped her waist holster.
I peeked over my shoulder. “We should be out soon.”
She hung back with Emoni and Carmen.
My gloved hand wrapped around the handle. I swung the door open and stepped inside.
The guy standing behind the black counter matched the photo dad sent.
“Hello Carson, I’m here for a vehicle pickup.”
His cold green eyes roamed my body, then the girls beside me.
He better not give us shit.
“What’s the name?”
“Tamara Jones.”
The waiting room appeared as more of a show piece than a place to wait for car repairs. There was a gray futon, a wooden coffee table, and magazines spread like a fan on the table. There wasn’t a speck of grease on the cream walls. Was this a government front shop? I should’ve asked dad. Not sure why I trust him after he’d betrayed me so many times.
He stepped before us. “This way,” he muttered. He waved his muscled arm through the air. His navy T-shirt that read Sparks Automotive was tucked neatly into his navy dickies. My eyes darted to his clean brown leather work boots.
He flexed his thick neck and adjusted the baseball cap over his neatly tapered blond hair. Maybe ex-military. Carson was probably a little over six feet tall.
Fourteen vehicles filled the bays. Motor oil swept up my nose as we walked through the pristine work area. The heavy thuds of our boots echoed through the building.
“Here you are.” His hand motioned toward the trucks.
“Keys inside. Do you need any fire power?”
“Ladies, hop in.” My gaze never left his.
They piled into the trucks without saying a word. Arms folded, I sauntered toward Carson. “Is this a government site?”
He didn’t blink, nor did a bead of sweat surface. Hands deep in his pockets, he cracked a pretty boy smile. “Would you like us to pull the bus around back for you
ladies?”
“No thanks. It’s fine where it is.”
“There are trackers in the trucks. If you aren’t back in three hours, I’ll send the birds out for you. We...” He waved his finger around the garage. “...were instructed to ensure you make it back here safe and sound.”
I slid my sunglasses down my nose. “Who gave you that order, soldier?” Let’s see if he takes the bait.
“You know who gave that order.” He closed the space between us. “Special Operative Marks, Ms. Jones. We’ve got your six if it comes down to it.”
My lips tipped up at one end. “Do you know who I am?”
He chuckled. “I know you’re a ghost.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way,” I growled through barred teeth.
His eyes combed my body. “Love a woman with a bite.”
I stretched my hand out, pushing him back. “I’m not on the market. Save your flirtatious ways for someone else.”
He flashed a perfect smile and tapped the hood of the Suburban. “See you back here no later than fifteen hundred hours.”
I threw the driver door open and hoisted myself inside the cab of the truck.
“What was all that about?” Sydney glared at Carson behind her sunglasses.
“He wanted me to know he knew who I was.” Never meeting Carson’s gaze, I peeled out of the garage. Nadine and Zoey followed. Halting at the end of the drive, I nodded the girls over. Sierra, Emoni, and Carmen hopped inside the Suburbans. Merging into traffic, I glanced out of the rearview mirror, checking to see if anyone followed us.
Sydney programed the address to the park into the GPS.
I tapped my earbud. “Everyone make sure you’re locked and loaded.”
“Roger that,” Nadine, then Zoey stated.
My eyes scanned the park entrance as I circled the lot twice. “Snipers, you have your maps. You know where I need you.” I nodded at Sydney as I rolled to a stop near the Suburbans. She hopped out the truck.
“Skylar, we’re out, over,” Zoey stated. Nadine and Sydney fell behind her as they trudged toward the mountain.
Sierra, Emoni, and Carmen piled inside the Silverado pickup truck with me.
I drove the Pickup truck inland along a walking trail. There were a few people jogging. I dipped to my right, deeper into the wilderness. Out of sight of wandering eyes.
The four Glocks rested snuggly against my bullet-proof vest under my T-shirt and jacket.
The framed clenched jaw I sported didn’t match my twisted insides. Hunter and I didn’t accept solo missions. I should’ve told my father no. Who was I kidding, rejecting the mission wasn’t an option? Too many times he’s helped us clean up behind our friends.
Jacob arrived in Tulsa hours ago. He could have joined me. I had no excuse not to include him. I wanted to complete this one mission with my girls. We could tackle the job with no sweat.
Don’t think about Jacob right now.
“You’ve arrived.” The voice from the GPS blared through the truck.
Peeking through the rearview mirror, I monitored the two trucks rolling to a stop behind us. “Look sharp people.”
“We’re ready. Lead them to the front of your vehicle. We need a clear visual,” Sydney stated.
“Roger that.” I held the door lever.
“Let’s move.” The girls nodded.
Sierra gripped the money bag as she hopped out of the truck. Emoni and Carmen followed her toward the front of the truck. Nothing more gut-wrenching than knowing others’ lives are in danger. All to help you. Don’t think for a minute that the responsibility didn’t send shivers up my spine.
I jumped off the step, closing the door behind me.
“Quavo, what’s up?” I stretched my hand toward his. He peeked at my hand like it was filthy.
His top lip curled upward. “Yo, what the fuck is up with those three bitches?” He pointed toward the front of the truck.
“I could ask you the same thing.” I nodded my chin toward the four guys behind him.
“You didn’t think I’d close a deal without back up.”
I walked backward toward the girls. The leaves crunched under my boots. “Just like I didn’t expect you to arrive alone.” A smile lifted my cheeks.
“Who conducts business without their crew?”
His jaw twitched.
“Ain’t no need for short talk, bitch.”
My skin heated and my fingers twitched. The motherfucker loved to call women bitches, huh? Ok noted.
“Remove the shades.”
I slipped the sunglasses from my face, revealing the gray contacts that matched my fake license. He stalked forward. His muscled chest and nose touched mine. “Yeah, you a cute little thang.”
Quavo’s rich cologne overpowered my nostrils.
Please don’t make a move, girls. We had to play it cool.
Inching backward, I extended my hand. “I’m here to deal.”
Again, he didn’t take my hand, I dropped it at my side.
“If you don’t want to get paid, we can be out.”
I slipped my sunglasses in my inner jacket pocket.
His eyes roved my body under the rustling trees.
“All work and no play, baby?” His tan cheeks turned a tinge of red.
Did I make him nervous? No.
The wind grazed my face. He reached for my hip. I slapped his hand away as I took another step back.
“I see you drive a hard bargain. Money exchange then my boys and I will fuck you and your girls.” He winked over my shoulder at the mob wives.
A chill shot up my spine again. Fuck, this guy was really testing my patience.
I ignored his shitty advances.
“Merchandise?” I quirked a brow.
He rolled his brown eyes and snapped his finger in the air.
The beefed-up Latin statues placed six crates in front of my truck.
Standing guard, they gripped the AK-47’s hanging from their shoulders.
“No need to show your cojones by flashing the big guns.”
Quavo snickered. “Nah, the fire power stays. Go ahead check out the merch.”
The tiny hairs stood on my neck. Fuck, let’s make this transaction run smoothly.
He slipped a cigarette from the top of his ear as he sank the sole of his boot against the grill of the truck.
“What do you chicks know about heavy fire power?” The cigarette danced between his lips as he lit the tobacco.
I threw the crate lid open. “Enough?”
“I bet you ladies will make triple what you’re paying me for the guns.” He grinned.
My eyes fell on the next crate. “E, a little help with the merchandise check.”
“Yeah, sure.” She stepped forward throwing the farthest lid open.
“How about I throw in an extra crate of Glocks for fifteen K?” He tilted his head to the sky, releasing the smoke from his lungs.
“We didn’t bring more than the two hundred K.”
He shrugged.
Standing before him, I peered into the last case.
“Now that you’ve seen all the merch, how about you suck my dick.” He flicked his cigarette onto the leaves.
His hand snaked around my waist in the blink of an eye.
Quavo’s eyes widened. “Damn little momma, how many guns you packing?”
My skin crawled underneath his touch. “Get...your...fucking hands off me,” I growled.
“Wrong answer bitch.” His hand wrapped around my throat.
“Get the money and the bitches. We’ll fuck them until they bleed then dump their bodies.”
A deep sinister chuckle vibrated my throat under his hand.
His eyes narrowed as he gripped tighter.
“Back the fuck up,” I heard Sierra snap from behind.
“Men really need to stop underestimating women. We aren’t all vulnerable and helpless.” My lips kicked up at one end. “Some of us love to fight back.” I slammed my knee into his balls.
&n
bsp; Peering at the strained vein in his neck, I waited for him to break.
He frowned around barred teeth. “You fucking bitch. You’ll pay for that.”
Oh, shit no such luck.
He cocked his fist back, raising me in the air with the other. Choking under his strong hand, I mustered the strength to lift my wrists, blocking his fist from meeting my face.
I snatched my Glock from my waist holster. “Put me the fuck down.” The handle felt warm under my touch. I pointed the steel at his dome. Shock and disbelief consumed his ugly mug. Not sure what it was. Maybe the scar running along the side of his face. Or his too cool stare.
“Now bitch.”
Quavo lowered me to my feet and released my neck.
Bent over coughing, I held my Glock steady on him.
“You’re out numbered. Put your guns down and make it easy on yourself.”
I took two steps back. Rubbing my throbbing neck, I forced out a laugh. “Oh, you think it’s just us,” the raspy words fell from my burning throat.
“No, we’re not. Show them girls.”
The big guy wearing a black T-shirt gripped his AK. His eyes bulged as he peered at Quavo. “Dude, there’s a red dot on your forehead.”
“What the fuck?” Quavo darted left and right like that would save him.
The other guy glanced over his shoulder. “There're dots on your heads too.”
Guess they thought we were light weights.
“We brought real guns to the table, boys,” Carmen chuckled, tugging her baseball cap snug on her head.
Yup, Dominic had rubbed off on her.
I peeked into her brown eyes and laughed.
Sierra tilted her head to the side. “Two days ago, we put a group of dirty bastards out of their misery.”
“They hoped...” Emoni swayed her thumb between us. “...you guys wouldn’t behave like assholes. I was betting you motherfuckers would. We’re the women men should never cross. We don’t take shit from bitches like you. Yeah, I called you a bitch, Qua..vo.” Her head dipped from side to side. “You don’t have a problem calling us bitches.”
Her chest heaved. “You assholes are lucky our husbands aren’t here. They wouldn’t be half as respectful as we’re being.” Emoni pointed her Glock toward Quavo.
I’d say they’d pissed her the fuck off.
“See you’re out numbered. Put your guns down.”