Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
“Harley, we’ll get the cunts, and we’ll kill them all if it means keeping yer da and you safe.” Hades tells me. We never really talked to each other when he was working for my father, but I can see the concern in his gaze as he looks at me. He does care about me, and that means a lot.
We gather around the old wooden table that Gordon usually works at, and spreading out the map I’ve brought with me, I point to several marked locations. “This is the port where the shipments arrive, and these are the locations of the warehouses we use to store the stock before it’s sent across the country.”
I hand each of them a copy of the map. I’m hoping that by concentrating on the port and warehouses we’ll get a better insight into how and from where the goods are going missing. I know the three men are here to find out what’s going on with their club’s shipments, but everything seems to be linked, so by working together, we should all get the answers we need.
“If we need help, you mentioned we can call on your brothers?” I confirm with Hadrian.
“Aye,” he responds. “They can be here in a few hours, if need be, but let’s see what we can find out before we involve them.”
“Of course.” I straighten and look at each man. “Shall we do this?”
They all nod, absorbing the details on the printouts I’ve given them.
“How do you want to proceed?” Hadrian asks, glancing at me.
“Racer and Hades, if you can keep an eye on the port while Gordon is occupied here, Hadrian and I will scope out the warehouse closest to my father’s house, and then Hadrian can have a chat with my da.” I reply. “We need to stay in communication. And if anything feels off, we regroup immediately.”
Racer grunts in agreement. “Sounds solid. When do we start?”
“Now,” I say, my voice firm. “We need to move quickly before the fuckers who are doing this have a chance to cover their tracks.”
The meeting breaks up, and we head our separate ways. Hadrian stays behind for a moment, catching my arm as I turn to leave. “Are you sure about this?” he asks quietly. “We can handle this. You can sit it out and wait with yer da in the house.”
I meet his gaze, my eyes unwavering. “I have to do this, Hadrian. I don’t have a choice. My father’s life is at stake. My family’s future is at stake. And I’m certainly not sitting in the house while you’re out there risking your life.”
He nods, squeezing my arm gently. “You’re stubborn, but I understand how you feel. I’ll be right by your side, Magpie. I’m not walkin’ away this time.”
I give him a small smile. He chose to leave before, but this time, he’s promising to stay, and that means so much to me. I feel a surge of determination. We have a plan, and with these men by my side, I know we have a chance.
It’s late afternoon by the time we park up a few streets away from the rundown warehouse on the outskirts of town, and making the rest of the way on foot, we keep to the shadows. The air is thick with tension, every sound magnified as we move.
We slip inside the warehouse, moving carefully through the dimly lit space. It’s filled with old crates and machinery, a perfect place for illicit activities. Splitting up, we search for any signs of recent use or hidden stashes.
I find a stack of crates pushed against the far wall with their contents concealed under a dusty tarp. I pull it back to reveal a cache of weapons and a few sealed, unmarked packages.
“Hadrian, over here,” I call softly.
He joins me, his eyes locked on the items in front of us.
“This is interesting,” he murmurs, pulling out his phone to snap a few photos. “We need to find out where they’re going to. These items aren’t stamped with your organisation’s mark, so they can’t be linked back to you, which means you’re losing money. I have a feeling the other warehouses will have similar stashes, and some of those will be shipments that would’ve been destined for the Royal Bastards.”
I nod, my mind racing with possibilities. “Let’s keep looking. There might be more to find here. There’s also a backroom that’s used as an office.”
We sift through the crates, finding a few documents and shipping labels. It’s not much, but it’s a start. As we work together, I can’t help but be impressed by Hadrian’s calm professionalism.
“Got something,” he says, holding up a piece of paper. It’s a shipping manifest with dates and locations that don’t match any of the buyers we supply. “This could be a useful lead.”