Free Wilde for Her (A Wilde Security Novel) (Entangled Brazen) by Tonya Burrows

himself a mental shake. It didn’t matter. Yeah, a thousand wasn’t a lot in the hired killer business, but to a guy in Soup’s position, it might as well be a million. “Did he give you a reason why he wants me dead?”
    “Said you did him wrong. I didn’t axe no more questions after that.”
    “Well, I want you to ‘axe’ more questions,” Cam said. “Talk to people, see who else he approached.”
    “Ah, man…”
    “And you’ll let me know the second he convinces someone to do the hit.”
    Soup shifted on his feet, gaze darting around the empty street like he expected a SWAT team to rush out of one of the buildings. Ignoring the gun, he sidled a step closer, and even in the cold and the wind, his body odor was amazing. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Gonna cost more.”
    Yeah, what a pal. “Of course it is.”
    “Guy’s gotta eat.”
    “Twenty now. Twenty for every additional relevant piece of info about this man.” Cam finally lowered his gun, but didn’t feel confident enough in Soup’s intentions to holster it. One-handed, he slid two tens from his pocket. Soup tried to snatch them with scarred, dirty hands, but he pulled the cash out of reach. “No dope. You buy dope with this, I will know. It’ll be the last payment you ever see from me. Deal?”
    In full sulk mode, Soup mumbled something under his breath.
    “Deal?” Cam said again.
    “Yes,” Soup said, louder.
    “You know I’m not fucking around about the dope.”
    He nodded, eyes wide. “You see everything.”
    “Damn right I do.” Cam finally relinquished the cash and watched as Soup squirreled it away into a pocket before scampering off.
    Even though Cam was no longer on the force, he still had his finger on the pulse of this city, and it didn’t hurt to remind the natives of that once in a while.
    With the wind slicing through his long-sleeve T-shirt like a saw, he sprinted back to his SUV, parked out of sight a block away, and cranked up the heat as soon as the engine purred to life. He held his stiff fingers over the vent until the air started to blow hot and he could feel his extremities again, then found his phone charging on the dash where he left it and dialed his twin. As much as he’d rather not mention this conversation to anybody, Vaughn had to know about the hit because a drug addict looking to make a quick buck might not be able to differentiate between them.
    “Hey,” he said when Vaughn picked up. “You home?”
    “Office,” Vaughn answered.
    “Stick around. I’ll be there in fifteen. We have a situation.”
    …
    The Wilde Security office sat in a rundown strip mall that was otherwise hopelessly vacant. Reece had bought the graffiti-covered building cheap and had set up shop in one of the seven empty stores with plans to restore the remaining six into office spaces they could rent out for extra income. But while it was a good idea in theory, none of the Wilde brothers knew the first thing about restoration, and most of the building was still boarded-up. The only cosmetic changes they’d accomplished so far were the darkly tinted front windows and the neat, white lettering that spelled out “Wilde Security” on the glass.
    At least the neighborhood wasn’t half bad anymore. It had experienced a revival over the past several years as young professionals flooded the area looking for cheaper rent, which in turn, had driven up housing costs and chased most of the gangbangers farther east. All of the graffiti was old, faded, and starting to chip and gave the building the look of an eighty-year-old with regrettable tattoos.
    Cam guided his 4Runner into the parking lot, which had been freshly paved during the summer and glowed like an oil spill in the yellow splash of the street lamps. He parked next to Vaughn’s Hummer, somewhat dismayed to also see Reece’s new Scion FR-S and the ten-year-old Jeep Cherokee Greer drove when it was too cold for his Harley.
    Damn. He’d really hoped only