Page 44 of Archer (Dirty Misfits MC 3)
“All right, here’s the game plan,” Porter said as he turned around in the passenger’s seat, “we’re going to park about half a block from the wharf and stick to the shadows. If the Black Knuckle-draggers are doing their job correctly, they’ll already have some sort of hold over the staff and dock hands.”
I shrugged. “We already know they paid off dock hands and are attempting to gain control of the security cameras.”
Brooks chuckled. “And if we’re lucky, we can catch them in between those two points. After they talk with the dock hands, but before they usurp the cameras. Then, we can control the cameras without anyone noticing that shit’s going down.”
I nodded. “Since the dock hands will assume it’s them doing shit and not us. That’s actually a pretty decent plan.”
Tanner puffed his cheeks out with a sigh. “And it requires impeccable timing.”
Finn snickered. “Which we’ve never quite been good with.”
Brooks clicked his tongue. “So, we’ll stick to that plan, but pivot as necessary. The number one thing is to keep ourselves silent and unseen. We need to get those girls, and while we are armed well, we can’t take any chances since we are a man down. Got it?”
The entire van nodded as Brooks rounded the last corner.
“Got the wharf entrance in sight. Diverting to the side road,” he said.
And that was our cue to start mentally getting prepared.
You know, before we had to physically execute.
Twenty
Josie
“Now remember,” Cole whispered as he dropped me off at the dressing room, “the code-word is—”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Cole. I remember. Now, get out of here before someone sees you.”
He chuckled softly as he opened the door. “It’s my ass if something happens to you, so don’t try to play hero. You’ve got me here for a reason. Use the code word if you’re in trouble.”
I nodded. “I promise I will, okay?”
After he returned my head nod, I disappeared into the dressing room and heard him slink off down the hallway. It already felt odd that the brute of a bodyguard wasn’t at the back door when we both entered, because he would have surely stopped Cole from coming in with me. And while part of me wondered where he was, I knew what I had to do.
“Brooks?” I whispered as I made my way to the back of the room.
The earpiece in my ear crackled before I heard his voice. “What’s up, Josie?”
I kept my voice low. “Just wanted to let you guys know that the back-door bodyguard wasn’t there when I walked in, so Cole was able to completely escort me to the dressing room back here. That’s the first thing that’s been off since I’ve been here, so I wanted to let you know.”
“Wonderful. Keep doing that until we can get out of here, all right? It’ll help us gauge what to do on our end.”
I nodded. “You got it.”
I cleared my throat and went to go sit at the small vanity afforded to me with the name “Butterfly” scrawled on a sheet of paper and taped to the top of the mirror. I hated that name, but it was what it was. There were only three other girls in the dressing room with me, and none of them I recognized.
Which was odd, considering how long I had worked there beforehand.
“So,” I said in a soft, breathy voice, “where are y’all from?”
Instead of answering me, though, one of the girls leapt up from her chair. She gagged as she rushed around before she bent over at her waist and puked all over the floor. Me and the other two girls rushed to her side, trying to clean her up while we found towels for the floor.
But the missing back-door bodyguard burst into the room and grimaced.
“What the—Jesus fuck, can someone clean this bitch up?”
I shot him a look. “That’s what we’re doing, are there any towels or something around?”
He glared at me. “Try that tone again and see what it gets you.”
I swallowed my anger. “She needs a doctor or something. Is there a doctor around here?”
He thumbed over his shoulder. “Get her out of here. She can’t dance. And you, Butterfly. You’ll take her place in half an hour. The show must go on, as they say.”
He walked right out of the room and closed the door behind him as if we meant nothing, and it boiled my fucking blood. One of the girls running around managed to find some old, musty clothes, and mopped up the vomit on the floor while I got the sickly girl to swish some water around. I walked her into the cramped bathroom and pulled at the paper towels that felt like cardboard before I cleaned her face and her lips off.
Then, after puking in the sink one last time, the door slammed open again.
