“Done talkin’,” Tack ground out as the front door opened.
All eyes went there to see Cabe “Hawk” Delgado and Lee Nightingale, another local badass, a private investigator, walking in. Hawk was carrying a manila folder.
Both men’s eyes scanned the space then came back to Tack.
But it was Hawk who spoke.
“Boys out?”
“What do you think?” Tack asked back, not about to have this conversation again, then he dipped his head to the folder. “What’s that?”
“You need to look at some pictures,” Hawk told him, stopping and tossing the file on the bar.
“Got other things to do, Hawk,” Tack said low, Hawk’s head turned to Tack and they locked eyes.
“In about thirty seconds, I’m gonna tell you somethin’ that is gonna seriously piss you off. But you got other things on your mind so I know you’ll get over it. We’ll deal with your beef later.”
Fuck.
“Give it to me,” Tack growled.
Hawk didn’t delay.
“Ride has been under my surveillance for three years,” he announced and Tack felt Hound’s fury explode behind him but he lifted a hand and kept his eyes locked with Hawk’s.
“The Russians, Arlo and High,” Tack guessed accurately, dropping his hand.
Hawk nodded. “We’ve been workin’ with the Feds.”
“What else?”
Hawk tore his gaze from Tack’s, looked down at the folder and threw it open. He shifted an eight by ten black and white to facing them and pointed to it. It was a still shot taken in the interior of Ride’s auto supply store of a man alone in an aisle.
Hawk twisted his neck and his eyes went back to Tack. “You know that man?”
Tack stared at the photo and the burn in his chest singed even deeper.
“Fuck me, that’s Naomi’s man, Pipe,” Hound muttered then louder, “What the f**k’s that f**ker got to do with this?”
“Your ex’s man,” Hawk said, ignoring Hound and straightening away from the photo.
“Yeah,” Tack forced out on a grunt. “You wanna tell me why you’re takin’ photos of that ass**le shoppin’?”
“This guy is a f**k up,” Hawk stated.
“Got a woman with the Russians,” Tack warned. “Don’t waste my time tellin’ me shit I know.”
“No, Tack,” Lee Nightingale entered the conversation, “This guy is a f**k up. He’s in deep with about every player in town.”
“In deep how?” Tack bit out.
“Drugs.”
Jesus. Fuck. Shit. God f**king damn it.
That motherfucker was using with his kids around. And his ex bitch knew, let him, hid it and played Tack.
Jesus. Fuck. Shit. God f**king damn it!