Under the Gun (CEP Book 3) (5 page)

A little over a year before, Oz had brought in Billy Parker, a key witness against Stefan Moretti, the son of Antonio Moretti, reputed Mob boss. Parker had obviously seen some bad shit go down when he’d worked in the Moretti’s family-owned auto body shop, which anyone having the slightest affiliation with law enforcement knew was just a front for the family’s nefarious dealings in drug trafficking, racketeering and a whole slew of other criminal activities. Oz had been chasing Parker, who’d run from an unrelated burglary charge, but after Oz delivered him to the NYPD, Parker had immediately made a deal, going state’s witness against the Morettis, and Antonio had lost it, promptly ordering Parker’s head on a platter. Then when he’d found out it was CEP who’d delivered Parker, Moretti had taken it personally and issued the vendetta.

“I don’t give a fuck what Moretti thinks,” Hank grumbled then hearing what the caller said, he spewed, “Don’t fuckin’ tell me that shit! And you wipe it from your own fucking brain ASAP! Jesus Christ!” He now glanced at his son, an incredulous look on his face as he shook his head. “Good. Bury it. As far as any of us are concerned, you now especially, you never talked to Drugov. Got me?” Hank hung up and looked at the ceiling trying to calm himself down. “Fuck!” he bit out as he dropped to his chair and reached for his coffee cup.

“What’s up, Pop?” Gunner asked with a frown.

Hank shook his head as he drank. Then setting his mug down, explained, “Fuckin’ Quaid talked to Drugov who told him where Parker’s being held.”

“How the fuck did Drugov get that information?”

“You know as well as I do these guys always have law enforcement in their back pockets. If Drugov knows, the Morettis know and we don’t need to be associated. I’ll call Brashears at 1PP and let him know word is out.”

“Damn, she’s a bitch,” Oz mumbled as he came into Hank’s office making Gunner chuckle because he knew he was talking about Abby.

“Sweet as pie to me,” Gunner returned with a smirk.

Oz gave him the finger as he sat, stating, “Then you must not be allergic to subzero temperatures.” This made Gunner snort before Oz asked, “So what’s the good news?”

“None for fuckin’ Parker,” Hank offered.

“Why? What’s up?” Oz inquired before taking a drink from his mug.

Hank explained what Chris Quaid, another CEP member, had told him.

“Fuck. If Drugov knows, that means the Morettis know,” Oz drawled, telling them what they already knew. “Guess Parker’s not long for this world then, huh?” Hank raised a shoulder unconcernedly which made Oz chuckle. A moment later he looked over at Gunner and gave him a shit-eating grin. “Heard dinner went well last night.”

Gunner shrugged. “It was all right.”

Oz’s grin got bigger. “Heard dessert was even better.”

Gunner narrowed his eyes. Jesus. He knew Quinn had probably called Tilly first thing this morning and blabbed all about what had happened. And it was only just after nine. Fucking women. “Fuck you, Colonel Sanders.”

Oz barked out a laugh as he stroked his chin. “I’ll have you know Tilly loves my goatee. Why, just the other night it tickled her—”

“Fucking Christ,” Gunner mumbled cutting him off at the same time he stood.

“If you two are done flirting with each other, I need to give you your next assignments,” Hank chastised gruffly looking through the papers on his desk and pulling one up to read. “Oz, I need you to surveil an electronics store near Battery Park after closing tonight. Alarm’s been going off, things are missing. That kinda shit. Cops have been doing drive-bys but haven’t seen anything. Owner says he thinks his ex-wife’s brother has something to do with it. You and Boone’ll stake it out. Might take a couple nights. If the guy shows up, get a few pictures so he can be identified and you’re good.”

“Got it, bossman,” Oz answered, getting up to leave. “Oh, hey, Tilly and I are throwing a party next Saturday. Everyone’s invited. It’s our one-month wedding anniversary.” He immediately cussed under his breath and Gunner knew that Oz knew he’d fucked up, giving them ammo against him. But before Gunner could say anything, Oz quickly added, “But I’m saying it’s a pre-Super Bowl party.”

Gunner couldn’t help the shitty grin he wore and he saw that his dad was trying not to laugh.

“Aw, that’s so fucking cute, man,” Gunner said. He looked at his dad. “First anniversary is paper so what’s the one-month gift? Tissue?” His eyes twinkled when they went back to Oz. “I’ll bring a box of Kleenex.”

“Fuck off,” Oz muttered.

“Okay, okay,” Gunner conceded. “I’ll get you Puffs.”

Hank audibly laughed.

Oz scowled at father and son. “If I didn’t think Tilly would get pissed at me, I’d uninvite both your asses.”

“Oh, no. We’ll most definitely be there,” Gunner assured him.

Oz glared at him for a moment then looked at Hank. “I’ll keep you posted if Boone and I see anything.” He turned to walk out but glanced back at Gunner, deadpanning, “You should bring Quinn Saturday.”

Before Gunner could get a word out or a finger up, Oz smirked and was gone. Asshole.

“So, this Quinn,” Hank said.

“Don’t, Pop.”

Hank chuckled. “Just messin’ with you, boy.” He looked up at his son over his reading glasses. “You are doing okay, though, yeah?”

“I’m good, Dad.”

“Okay, son,” Hank answered, scrutinizing his middle boy to make sure. When Gunner gave an annoyed sigh, Hank picked up another paper, reading it and announcing, “So your assignment tonight is a dinner engagement at the Colony Club and tomorrow, lunch with The Junior League.”

Gunner raised an eyebrow wondering who his subject was since those were both women’s clubs.

Hank read the paper. “Miss New York USA, it says. Kimberly Carmichael. I’ll text you the contact information. Dinner tonight is at seven.”

“Got it, Pop. Gonna meet Chase at the gym now.”

“Tell your brother to give his mother a call. You know how she worries when she doesn’t hear from you boys at least once a week.”

“Will do. Later.”

On his way to the front door, Gunner did his damnedest not to be noticed by Abby, but of course she saw him, as usual.

“What’re your plans for today, Gunner?” she asked, big grin in place.

He wasn’t one to put up with much shit and while he really wanted to tell her to drop the fucking act, he knew his parents had raised him better than that. Oh, and his mom would try grounding him if she heard he’d been rude. So instead of laying it out straight, he muttered, “Goin’ to the gym. Then back to work.”

“Oh! You have the dinner tonight at the Colony Club, right?” She leaned toward him from where she sat behind her desk and declared furtively, “That Kimberly Carmichael? I’ve heard she’s a huge bitch.”

His fingers went to the bridge of his nose as he fought to hold his tongue. Jesus. “Pretty is as pretty does” was never a truer statement than at that moment.

“And I heard she’s had so much plastic surgery no one even knows what parts of her are still real.” She let out an imperious giggle.

He stopped walking and turned to face her. “You know she has a little brother who’s dying?”

That shut Abby’s big mouth right up. Hell, he didn’t know this Kimberly Carmichael from the next woman but he just wanted to put this chick in her place.

“Oh. No. I didn’t,” Abby uttered at least looking a little remorseful.

Glad he didn’t have to harangue her about being the heinous bitch she was, he gave her a head nod, his work there now done, and left.

“You heading to the gym?”

“Already there, loser,” Chase, Gunner’s little brother answered over the phone.

“Well, look at you, all bright-eyed and bushytailed.”

“Dude. Don’t ever say that shit to me again.”

Gunner laughed before hanging up but as he drove, he allowed himself for the first time to think of the night before with Quinn. Damn, the woman was hot. Smoking hot. But when he’d left at five this morning, he’d left his card on the pillow which had put the ball in her court. He also hoped it let her know that what they had was nothing more than what it’d been: a one-night stand.

Because he didn’t need that bullshit in his life right now. Or fucking ever.

But as he pulled into the gym parking lot he clenched his teeth knowing full well that was a load of crap because if he’d thought before that fucking her would get her out of his head, he knew he was dead wrong.

And that shit wasn’t cool. 

“Bro, you went off on the clean and jerks,” Chase said, toweling off.

Gunner sat on the bench in the locker room, towel around his waist knowing he’d pushed himself hard. “Yeah.”

“What’s on your mind?” Chase asked as he dressed.

“Nothing. Why?”

“Just never seen you so into it like that.”

Gunner stood and started dressing as well. “Just felt like going hard.”

“This about a woman?” Chase asked, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

After pulling on his t-shirt, Gunner squinted right back. “Why?”

Chase shrugged. “You just seem in your head.”

Gunner threw his towel in a cart with a sigh then looked at Chase. “I can’t get her out of it.”

Chase nodded somberly as if he understood, which Gunner knew he probably did since he’d gone through some shit before he married Julia.

“She’s not even my type,” Gunner groused as he pulled on track pants over his shorts. Chase remained quiet. “Thing is, I don’t want a fuckin’ thing with her.” He jerked his t-shirt over his head. “She’s a fuckin’ smartass who doesn’t know when to shut her goddamned mouth.” He grabbed his hoodie roughly shoving his arms into the sleeves. “But it’s fuckin’ cute when she says the shit she says.”

Chase grinned at him.

“Fuck,” Gunner hissed, grabbing up his wallet and keys and jamming them into his pockets. “Shoulda kept my fuckin’ mouth shut.”

He turned to go and Chase followed him, declaring, “Julia was the same, man. I didn’t want anything to do with her either but you see how that worked out.”

Gunner turned to face his brother in the lobby, pointing a finger at him. “Do not say that shit, Chase. That’s not where this is heading.”

Outside in the crisp January morning air as they walked to their cars, he heard Chase sigh. “Look. It’s not the end of the world to let a woman love you.” Gunner scowled at him. “And it’s not a bad thing to love her back.”

“Save it,” Gunner snapped heading to his Camaro.

“You deserve to be happy!” Chase hollered after him.

Gunner acted as if he hadn’t heard his brother, getting into his car, starting it and revving the engine before peeling out of the parking lot.

Chapter 5

“But it’s Saturday!” Quinn complained into her phone as she rolled out of bed then went to her dresser to pull on panties and a huge white t-shirt that Rod had left a couple months before.

“Get your happy ass down here at six,” Tilly replied. “It’s ten now. That gives you eight hours of peace and quiet before having to listen to a bunch of dogs barking. I’ve got a media pass for you at the door. All you’ve gotta do is show them your ID.”

“You’re gonna owe me big time.”

“I believe running in the 5k for mental health with you for the past, oh, five years is payment enough,” Tilly retorted.

“Fuck.”

Tilly giggled. “And just so you know, I assumed you and Gunner slept together last night so I told John this morning.”

Quinn stopped mid-spreading of toothpaste on her toothbrush. “You what?”

“I told John.”

“Oh, my God! If he says something to Gunner, Gunner’s gonna think I told you!” Quinn let out a groan.

“Ha! I knew you slept with him!”

As she started brushing, Quinn rolled her eyes. “Yoo knew I dood!” she garbled out between brush strokes. “He’s tho phot! How cood I bot?”

“What?”

Quinn spit then rinsed. “I said you knew I would and he’s so hot how could I not.” As she wiped her mouth on a towel, she went on, “And I’m done with him.”

“You’re done with him? Already?” She heard Tilly gasp. “He’s bad in bed, isn’t he?”

In the kitchen, Quinn had pulled a caffeinated water from her fridge, opening it and taking a guzzle on which she choked at hearing that. Grabbing a hand towel, she scolded, “Warn me when you’re gonna say something like that, Till! God! But, no. He was amazing as I knew he would be.”