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I drop my purse on the side table and kick off my shoes. I have ice cream, a blanket and a blank TV.
RMSA was a disaster.
I’m not even sure how it happened. I went expecting to have a great trip. I was going to get the guys for the manipulation, I was going to point how bad they were at managing their company, and I was going to help Lula plan her wedding.
Well, I kinda helped Lula.
I stare at the apartment I’ve spent the past month decorating for me and Ranger. It looks great, but Ranger won’t see it until Tuesday when he comes back.
I check the time. 5 p.m. If I hurry, I can make dinner. Continue reading
I’m taking one last look around. Steph’s meeting with the Leadership to discuss the findings, Diego’s talking to some of the ‘exiled’ Miami men, and Hector’s disappeared again.
The ladies are all in Lula’s office, gossiping.
I walk out to the garage and the three men there come to attention. “Sir?”
“At ease.” They relax but still stand at the ready. “Tell me, what’s the best part of being a RangeMan?”
Each one blinks and looks at the others. “Honestly,” the red-head says, “it’s the brotherhood.”
“Yeah. A lot of places talk about merit, but RangeMan is all about merit,” the blonde says. This one is Arlo. That I know. “That’s why I stay. The pay is great, the men are my brothers, and I know that merit wins the day.” Continue reading
One clean slice.
That’s all it took to remove James White’s head from his body.
He expected to be shot. Don’t know why. He knows his people. He should have expected a machete.
Trent passes me all the info the FBI has collected on White’s death so far. Gang killing. MS-13 with a machete. What’s interesting is that there aren’t any tags near his body.
“I’m betting Alberto, Damian’s second,” I tell Trent after reviewing the info.
I point to the picture of the headless body. “That’s the tag. Contact the DEA and see if they have any informants working with or in the Cartel Juarez. If they do, see what the gossip is.” I put the info down and look at the task force. Every member, including Morelli, is here. “This had to be sanctioned, since White was their member in the FBI. This brings the full weight of the US government down on them. They’ll be ready for blow back.” Continue reading
Yup. You read that right. I’m writing. The next few chapters have been sent to the betas, so you’ll get an update on publication dates soo.
My Muse is back and ready to rock and roll.
The West Coast has been good for us….. As has the break. Thank you for the love and support. We’re ready to power home now.
Man in front of me is in his late 20s, maybe early 30s. Cool. He’s been reading my application for the past ten minutes and he hasn’t said shit yet.
Piman told me I’d be tested. Wish I’d asked more questions about the test.
He finally looks up. Cold dark brown eyes, ponytail, strong nose. Looks like Piman’s cousin, the darker version. Expensive ass suit. Gotta be Cuban. Shit. I hate Cubans. Only one I like is Piman. Oh, and Danilo. They’re cool. I wonder if this is another entitled little shit.
He leans back in his chair and stares at me. “Why?”
What the fuck? “Why?”
He taps my application. “What can I get from you that I can’t get from another applicant?”
Skills, fucker. I got ‘em. Can I say that? Continue reading
Manolo Peña’s POV
I step back in line and watch Hector Gutierrez leave the gym.
He told me that when he arrived in San Antonio he wouldn’t speak or acknowledge me, but . . .
I want to blush. He’s gorgeous. Well built, intimidating, no nonsense. Sexy as hell.
I shake my head mentally and stand at attention. I see his partner, Stephanie, up at the front. She was a sweetie. I see her grandmother in her. Even though we both knew we couldn’t speak to each other, her eyes said, So you’re Manolo, huh? Hiiiiii!
I learned how to control the blushing in the Navy. Thank god. I might’ve been pitched overboard if I had not.
Hector was putting my abilities to the test. Continue reading
At 1700 Friday, I follow Bobby, Lester, and Tank down to Tank’s Escalade and get in the back seat. We return to the hotel, where Hector and Ranger are waiting.
“Sir.” Being in front of Ranger is always nerve-racking. I look around and we’re alone.
“Sit.” I sit and Ranger disappears to the kitchen. He returns with a folder and two bottles of water. “I’ve heard about your performance this year.” He stares at me. “Impressive.”
I fight the grin.
“Not just the work you’ve been doing in Miami, which alone is notable, but your work in stabilizing RM-NYC. I heard about that not only from my partners but also from the CO. We’ve all been extremely impressed by your dedication and hard work.”
Yes! Fuck! I impressed Ranger! That’s not easy. Continue reading
“Y’all get it straight?”
We’re on the road to Houston, RMSA men behind us in another SUV, and Lula’s looking at me out the side of her eye.
“Yeah. We’re straight.”
She nods. “Good.”
I look over at her. “We’re good too,” I tell her quietly.
She exhales. “Thanks. So what the hell was wrong with you?”
I sigh. “A bunch of things.” Continue reading
I wave Candace into the room. “I have a management problem.”
“One moment, sir.” She leaves and returns with a legal pad. “OK, shoot.”
I give her the brief outline of the discussion with Steph, taking care to represent what happened on both sides. I also give her the recording of the meeting from my phone. She sits back to listen. By the end, she’s pale and shaking her head.
“Wow . . .”
I raise an eyebrow. “Why not written?” I slide the one I wrote over to her and she reads it, nodding, before sliding it back.
“Because this is a first offense, sir. Yes, she was insubordinate, but gloves off?” She shrugs her shoulders. “OK, maybe I wouldn’t have told my bosses to go fuck themselves, but she felt comfortable enough to.”
“And that makes it OK?” I ask coldly.
“No, sir,” she replies, arching an eyebrow. “It makes this entire situation a pain in the ass. You’re all friends but you also have a line. She’s a subordinate doing the job of a board member. Lines are blurry. I have to ask, sir, if you intend to keep her.”
“We do. We want to, but my partners will vote to fire without some sort of corrective action.” Continue reading