Free Hostile Home Front [Black Ops Brotherhood 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Bella Juarez

had managed to read a good one-third of the book that he had brought. It had turned out to be a real page turner. He put down the book for a while and put on his sunglasses and leaned back. To anyone passing by, he looked like he was sleeping. He watched as people passed in front of the vehicle. Many of them went to the portable restrooms at the end of the parking lot. He watched as a man in a black hoodie passed. He was automatically suspicious because it looked like the man intentionally hid his face. He watched as the man waited his turn at the Porta Potty and suspiciously scanned the parking lot.
    Gavin recognized him instantly once he saw his face. It was one of Rivera’s henchmen. He observed the man and noted that he had parked a few rows behind him. He jotted down the license plate number and called Mac. It was early Sunday, and while Mac was probably at home, he could always go to the office and get him the information he needed.
    “Yeah, Mac?” Gavin asked when his cell phone rang.
    “Do you not know today is Sunday, badass?” Mac asked.
    “Yeah, I know what day it is.”
    “What the hell? I’m not your secretary! This can’t wait until Monday?” Mac demanded.
    “I would’ve called you Monday if I could wait.”
    “Don’t you have people that can do this for you?”
    “Yes, but right now I don’t want those people to know what I’m up to.”
    “This something you and Rock are working?”
    “Sort of. I’m sure Rock will be interested in the movements of my guy when he intersects with your guy,” Gavin replied.
    “All right, give me an hour to get into the office and I’ll see what I can find out.”
    Gavin ended the call and picked his book. He still had a while to wait. It was only six in the morning.
     
    * * * *
     
    Jorge Rivera arrived at the processing area early in the morning. He was glad because it had been eighteen months of boredom and waiting. It was hard to run an organization behind federal prison walls. He knew that his most trusted man was waiting to take him home to Victoria. He had copped the manslaughter plea just to move on. It had turned out to be the best decision of his life. He had landed the big time, M-22.
    Rivera processed out and changed into the clothes he had been wearing when he came through the bars in Victoria County. It had been August then and he wished he had other clothes for today. The wife-beater and shorts would not work in late November.
    Rivera signed papers and took his personal belongings. The process seemed to take all day. It felt as if he would never leave. He smiled as they opened the gates and he saw his man standing at the entrance, waiting.
    “Homes!” the man said. They shook hands and embraced briefly.
    “Let’s get the fuck outta here. I need a jacket, man. We need to stop somewheres,” Jorge said.
    “Okay, bro.” The men walked out into the parking lot.
    The air seemed different on the outside, Jorge noticed. Smells like money. He skimmed the parking lot. There were too many people here for his liking. Which meant too many witnesses and no clear view if anyone had been sent to watch him. Kids were crying and people were sitting in their cars waiting their turn to enter the prison, or waiting for people to come out after visitation. As they got to the car Jorge watched the other cars pull in behind them. There were too many people coming and going. They pulled into traffic on the highway leading from the prison.
    “Do you want me to head to town, bro?” Jorge’s man asked.
    “Yeah, man, I want some McDonald’s and I need a jacket, man. I’m freezing my ass off. Gimme yours till I get one,” Jorge said.
    The man peeled off his Spurs jacket and handed it over. Beaumont was about fifteen minutes from the prison. There was a Walmart with a McDonald’s. They arrived in the parking lot and went into the store. Rivera had no money, so his man would be responsible for getting him whatever he wanted. He ate his Quarter Pounder with