Chapter 7: Aaren

By the time we had finished with our toys for the night, the party was near done. People filtered out and made their way home, leaving us alone in a large and empty house.

A few people had wandered into Morgan's room as the hours ticked by but we paid them no mind. We had a reputation for this kind of thing.

Leah had been a nice reprieve from the chaos warring in my head. And watching Morgan and Kit go at it had been an enjoyable experience. But now it was time to get down to business.

Morgan slumped into the chaise lounge in front of the fireplace in the main sitting area downstairs. "So what are we going to do?"

"I think we need to tighten the circle around us for the time being," I said as Bradley stretched out on the floor, still exhausted from the activities upstairs. He had the chilled bottle of Captain Morgan in his hand and he took precarious sips from his position on the floor.

"There's no telling where the leak is, how are we supposed to tighten the hold we have when we have no idea where to start?" Bradley let out a frustrated huff, as if he couldn't be bothered.

"For now, the circle is only the three of us. Anyone outside of the three of us cannot be trusted. Is that agreed?" I glared at both of them, waiting for them to say something smart.

Bradley rolled his eyes and I was about ready to slap them out of his skull. Morgan nodded from his perch on the lounge, draped over it like a lazy lion.

"We need to find buyers for the art we acquired," I stated casually. The guys hadn't been involved with this particular acquisition. Both of their necks nearly snapped as they glared at me.

"What art," Morgan asked through clenched teeth. If Morgan hated anything, it was being left out. And also clowns.

I rolled my neck, attempting to loosen the knots in my shoulders. "I got wind of a shipment of art that was stolen recently. And also a few fakes. They'll net us a few million dollars if we can find the right buyers."

"And you didn't think to f*cking tell us about this?" Morgan sat up from the lounge and glared daggers at me.

Screw him and his judgment. If they took more of an interest in the business, maybe I wouldn't need to make these types of decisions on my own. "When should I have told you, Morgan? Is it between the fifty-f*cking-seven joints you smoke a day or the various men and women that frequent your bedroom?" I glared at him, puttin all of my anger into my warm glare.

"F*ck you," Morgan spat between clenched teeth. He knew I was right but I didn't blame him for being pissed. I would be too.

"The point is, we have the art. All we need to do now is fence and sell it. Easy peasy." I crossed my arms to let them know I was done with the argument.

Bradley took another large swig from his bottle and rolled his eyes. "Where is the art being stored?" I was getting really sick and tired of all the eye rolling.

"The warehouse downtown, the one on Fox Avenue."

"That's the one where we store some of our arms, yeah? The big ones," Morgan asked as he adjusted himself to be more comfortable.

"The one with the infrared cameras? Yes." I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened the app that let me keep eyes on our stock of weapons.

The video feed pulled up and I watched for a moment, seeing the men deliver the paintings right on schedule. "They just arrived," I said to the room. "Everything is going off without a hitch."

Bradley cracked his knuckles and flipped onto his stomach on the floor. "We'll see. With the way things have been going, I wouldn't get my f*cking hopes up."

"Don't f*cking jinx it," Morgan snapped from the lounge chair. "Maybe if you would keep your mouth f*cking shut for once we wouldn't have this problem."

The room got quiet as Morgan seethed and Bradley went rigid. "What the f*ck is that supposed to mean, mother f*cker?"

"It means that you spill the beans to anything you happen to be f*cking at the time. I wouldn't be surprised if the rat wasn't one of the chicks you f*cked. How many people has it been just this past month?"

"F*ck you," it was Bradley's turn to spit now. "I don't say sh*t to anyone. You're the one always spilling secrets to anything that will listen. You'll f*ck anything with a goddamn pulse!"

"That's enough!" My voice boomed out over the two of them and I shoved my hands in my pockets to hide my fidgeting fingers. I knew it wasn’t either of them–of that I could be sure. They were my brothers and I trusted them with my life. "The fact remains that we have a snitch in our midsts. I don't think it's either of you because while you're both dense as Hell and only think with your damn c*cks, you're not full fledged morons." I gave them both a death stare and began to pace.

"It wasn't me," they both said in unison and I couldn't help the bark of laughter that bashed its way though my teeth.

They were both quiet and I took the silence for what it was; a small blessing. Morgan closed his eyes and threw his arm over his face. Bradley grinned at me from the floor and took another large gulp of rum. I continued to pace as I looked through emails.

Then, a notification popped up on my phone; an alert from one of our cameras. I opened the app and stared for a while, not seeing anything. I went to close the app, but then something caught my eye.

"What's this?" I looked with furrowed brows at the shadowed figure skulking about outside the warehouse. "It looks like we have a visitor."

I watched the camera feed on my phone as the back door of the warehouse cracked open and then closed, the briefest shadow of a figure visible before they closed the door and cast themselves in shadow. I flipped the feed to infrared.

"Let me see!" Bradley rolled and crawled to my feet on the floor, taking the phone in his hand. He watched with wide eyes for a moment and then grinned. "It's a woman!" he said with no lack of joy. Then he stood and shoved the phone in my face and I saw the clear shape of a female figure tip-toeing through our warehouse, heading straight for our shipment of art. Interesting.

"The hunt is on," Morgan said with a bit of glee, cocking his eyebrow at Bradley's excited buzzing.

"God have mercy on whoever this is." I grabbed the phone from Bradley's fingers and zoomed in on the woman’s face, clear as day, and snapped a screenshot on my phone.

Something about her was eerily familiar.