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  • Home > Chelle Bliss > Men of Inked > Uncover Me (Page 57)     
    Uncover Me(Men of Inked #6) by Chelle Bliss
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    Fuck, I needed to calm down. They weren’t going to come back for me. They had what they wanted—whom they wanted.

    “Up here!” I yelled back, shaking out my hands and rolling my neck. I needed to loosen up and get control of the situation.

    Mike pushed the door opened and whistled. “Fuck, that’s pretty. What the hell are you doing with all this shit?”

    “Some people collect figurines. I collect guns. And for the first time, the shit is going to come in handy.”

    He walked up to the edge of the bed, grabbed a .44 from the collection, and checked the chamber. “What the fuck is going on? Your text had me in a panic, man.”

    “Angel is gone. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but I got a text demanding money for her life.”

    “Fuck me,” he muttered, pointing the unloaded gun out the window and pulling the trigger.

    “Where the fuck is everyone?” I complained, glancing at my watch.

    Just then sound of screeching tires echoed through the room. We left the guns behind, running down the stairs to meet them at the door. James, Joe, Pop, and Anthony were walking toward the door.

    “Dude, what the fuck?” Anthony barked, pushing past me as he entered the house.

    I rolled my eyes, not really ready to deal with his shit, but we needed the manpower.

    “What the hell is going on, son?” Pop asked as he gave me a quick hug.

    “Let’s talk in the kitchen.” I waited as they filed in one by one before I entered behind them. Then I grabbed the note off the counter and slid it in the middle of the table.

    James grabbed the note, scanning over it.

    “What’s that?” Joe asked, sliding into a chair.

    “What is this shit?” James growled, holding up the piece of paper and shaking it. “I call bullshit.”

    “It is. I woke to find this note,” I said, snatching the paper. “Angel said she was leaving. When I texted her, I got a reply, but not one I was expecting.”

    “Yeah, there’s no way she’d leave and go back to her shitty life.” James bit his lip, knowing he’d already said too much.

    I jumped in quickly, bringing everyone back to the topic at hand. “The text said they wanted one million dollars or they’d kill her and come after me.”

    “What the fuck!” Joe roared, slamming his hand on the table. The table jumped, falling back to the floor with a thud.

    “Do you know who?” Anthony asked, sitting forward and dropping the attitude.

    “No fucking clue. We need to find someone to track her phone. See if they can get a location. We need to run down a list of suspects and figure out how we’re going to get her back.”

    “How long?” James asked, thinking like a cop and not in shock about the situation.

    “Forty-eight hours.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache building in my skull.

    “Not enough time,” Joe mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

    “No, buddy. We got this shit,” James said, tipping his chin to me. “We need someone who can access her phone records ASAP.”

    “Flash?” I offered, grimacing as I spoke. He was a sore spot for both James and me.

    James winced, his eyes coming to mine with a cold stare. “Little fucker,” James muttered, swiping his hand across his face to muffle his words.

    “I always hated that little prick,” Joe agreed, knowing full well what James had said.

    “I don’t trust him,” Mike stated firmly with his lips set in a thin line.

    Pop stood and leaned over the table, placing his knuckles flat against the surface. “Boys, it doesn’t matter if you like someone. If they’re useful, then you have no choice but to bury the hatchet.”

    Everyone quietly thought about my father’s words, knowing he’d spoken the truth. For my sake—and Angel’s—we had to go against our personal feelings and use any means necessary, even if that meant Flash.

    “Pop’s right. He’s our only hope to get information from her phone and possibly find her location.” I pushed back from the table, the sound of the legs scraping against the floor ringing in my ears. “James, can you call him and get him on point?” I stared at James, waiting for him to protest. I knew the Izzy-Flash situation of the past was still stuck in his craw.

    “Only for you, Thomas. Only for you.”

    “Doesn’t matter why. Just do it.”

    With that, he got up from the table, dialing his phone as he walked into the living room. “Flash.” James’s voice grew quiet as he moved out of earshot.

    “What do we do first?” Mike asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands together.

    I could see his muscles flex and relax as he sat there. He was pumping himself up, ready and needing a fight. He’d been out of the ring too long and missed the greatest joy of his life—besides his girl. Fighting was in his blood.

    “Here’s what we’re going to do…” I laid out the plan, going over each step and different scenarios. A lot would depend on where, who had her, and what their true motives were.

    On the surface, it seemed as if they were out for some quick cash, but it might have been a ploy. Maybe they wanted to weed me out and use me as an offering to the MC. There were more possibilities—probably dozens I couldn’t even imagine.

    Much of the operation lay in Flash’s hands. He was our starting point, and everything would radiate and develop from his intel. As we were talking through our plans and determining the weapons at our disposal, James came back in the room and tossed his phone on the table.

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