The security is state of the art. “Whose building is this, babe?” I ask Cage. “A friend’s,” is all he’ll give me. “Hmm. Nice that they let us use the space.” From the outside, the building looks like a cafe, and there is, indeed, a café in the building, but it’s small and it’s a front for whatever goes on here. We’re in the back warehouse space where crates are stacked in rows. “I bet if we opened one of those crates, we’d find something very illegal,” I state. Cage lifts a brow. “If we opened one of those crates, we’d likely end up dead.” “Well then. No opening of the crates.” One side of his mouth twitches and I grin. “Showtime,” Damian says beside me. “Finally. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on these fuckers since we found out,” Ernesto announces. I look at him in surprise. “Blood thirsty?” He shakes his head. “Nope. Just a heavy taste for revenge.” “We don’t know she’s dead,” I remind him and he just looks at me blandly.
