Returning his focus back to Vixen, Nixon frowned. She was too busy looking out the window, her usual forlorn look accompanying her face. Lately, she as morose and withdrawn. It wasn’t a look Nixon liked to see, but the older Vix got, the harder she was to contain.
Nixon wanted to defile her right in front of the pretty boy. He wanted to mark her for everyone to see, make a statement the pretty boy wouldn’t forget.
She was his.
His.
Like the sky belonged to the earth, Vix belonged to Nixon.
Mine. He thought with fierce possessiveness.
She’s mine.
7.
Vixen…
Hobbs arrived shortly after I’d caught sight of the guy in the corner.
“I hate this fucking place,” was the first thing he’d said as he stormed in, briefcase in hand. “Nixon, you son of a fucking bitch, I’m tired of catching ferries to this cunt of an island.”
“Own a boat, boss,” Rowan said. “It’s smooth sailing, pun intended.”
As Hobbs tossed the briefcase down on the table, he slid out of his suit jacket and glared at Rowan. “I don’t want to own a fucking boat, Rowan. I don’t like boats. I don’t like the fucking water, and I have no fucking interest in crawling across the ocean at a snail’s pace to get to this cunt of a place just to give you little cunts your next fucking job.” Then he redirected his glare to Nixon and said, “Why the fuck are you sitting on the edge of the fucking table, Nixon? And Doll, unless you’re going to give us a pussy show, put your fucking legs down.”
Doll dropped her legs and sat up, but Nixon didn’t budge. He remained seated on the corner of the table, flicking his thumb in the direction of the corner. “You forgot to scold pretty boy over there.”
Hobbs turned to look at the guy in the corner. He rolled his eyes. “Are you trying to be a mysterious fuck, Flynn? Get the fuck outta there.”
As the guy left the corner, Doll pointed at me. “What about her, Hobbs?”
Hobbs let out a dramatic sigh. “Leave her alone. I like where she’s standing just fine. The room is elevated by her presence.”
Doll tossed a dirty look my way, and Nixon smirked.
The guy Hobbs called Flynn took a seat on the chair next to Doll. I couldn’t help but notice the wary look Nixon tossed him.
“Who the fuck is this kid, Hobbs?” Tyrone demanded, also looking suspicious.
“This is Flynn,” Hobbs replied, straight-faced. “Thought I made it clear when I said his fucking name.”
Flynn grabbed one of those hotel pens on the table and twisted it around, glimpsing once up at me. I averted my gaze quickly, feeling my pulse jump.
“Okay, well, what is his role in all this?” Rowan enquired, leaning back in his chair.
“Yeah, never seen him before,” Tiger chirped.
“He’s too pretty,” Doll muttered, like it was an insult.
“He’s your getaway driver,” Hobbs inserted, gritting his teeth. “I would have told you that if you all would just shut the fuck up and let me talk.”
“Why do we need a getaway driver?” Nixon asked, a note of disapproval in his tone. “We do things on the quiet. By the time the alarm’s raised, we’re long gone.”
“Good point,” Rowan agreed.
Doll’s brows shot up. “I guess it’s going to get nasty, gentlemen.”
“I think Hobbs is going to tell us,” Tyrone said. “I think we keep interrupting him.”
Exhausted, Hobbs ran a hand down his face. “Do I need to put you bitches in detention just so you’d shut the fuck up and let me talk?”
It was funny hearing Hobbs swear. He looked like a fifth-grade schoolteacher with his thick glasses and clean-shaven face. He dressed like someone from the old railroad days, his suit old-fashioned and proper, and the pocket watch chain hanging along the pocket of his vest was the perfect added touch.
“Sorry, Hobbs,” Tiger apologized. “I guess we just have a lot to say.”
Hobbs tensed his jaw. “Alright, you turtle looking bald fuck, does anyone else have something to say? Get it out of the fucking open now before I end up shooting somebody.”
“I have something to say.” That came unexpectedly from the guy Flynn. He was staring at Hobbs. “I’ve been walking around the hotel for the last couple hours and I noticed there are cameras everywhere. I’ve never seen a hotel under this much amount of surveillance. What’s going on?”
The room was silent for several moments. I noticed a few glances at Nixon and then me.
They know.
“The place is secure,” Nixon suddenly said. “The surveillance is under my control. It makes talks like these safe to have.”
“Do you own the hotel?” Flynn asked.
“Something like that.”
“It’s a popular retreat. Can you be certain we’re safe to have this conversation?”
Nixon glared at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I was under some kind of fucking interrogation right now. If I wanted to be hounded by the likes of you, I’d have crashed a frat party. Hobbs, you never told me you were into recruiting nosy fuckheads.”
Flynn crossed his arms, looking right back at Nixon unperturbed. “We’ve never met. I’m trying to figure things out right now.”
“That’s Nixon,” Hobbs said, like that was all that was needed to explain him.
“Like the president?” Flynn questioned.
“No,” Nixon retorted. “Not like the fucking president.”
“Nixon has this island covered,” Hobbs cut in. “He’s got men at every corner under his control. If you farted in the forest, he’d know about it. Talks like these are safe to have.”
Flynn nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Hobbs repeated. “Have I served my fucking purpose? Anyone else got something to say?”
Nobody said a thing.
“Hallelujah, praise Jesus.” Hobbs made the sign of the cross before unlocking the briefcase, uttering curses under his breath.
A second later, the briefcase slammed open and he said, “This is what’s happened.” He began producing photos and tossing them around the table. “A Hungarian crew ripped off the Irish Gypsies at their central caravan park a few months back in Ireland. They made a run for it, disappearing out of the blue.”
“How did they disappear out of the blue?” Doll immediately asked, confused. “Those guys have some serious surveillance.”
“I don’t fucking know,” Hobbs retorted, already looking impatient. “I didn’t read their minds, Doll.”
“But those guys never get ripped off.”
“You don’t say.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Maybe they were hiding under a Harry Potter cloak, who the fuck cares? Point is, the gypsies got blind-sided. Had all their lollies in one nest –”
“It’s kind of funny,” Tiger chuckled. “Cuz they’re always ripping people off.”
“Yeah, ha-ha,” Hobbs deadpanned. “Anyways, the trail went cold and –”
“If they disappeared out of nowhere, there’d be no trail to go cold,” Rowan interrupted, shrugging like it was simply not possible.