Prisoned Series Box Set by Marni Mann

Author:Marni Mann [Mann, Marni]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-10T16:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

Beard

The morning I was scheduled to fly out to Miami, Bond showed up at the prison. Since the three guards were all in Venezuela, both sweepers were too busy to leave, and Inmate #1516 needed to be transferred here, Bond had offered to bring him in. We didn’t ask for his help that often, but when we did, he never said no.

Because my flight was scheduled to leave only an hour after Bond landed, we didn’t have much time to catch up. Just a couple of minutes where he told me about the mills and I briefly mentioned my investment with Layla. Then, I took the boat to the airport and boarded our private plane.

It surprised the hell out of me when Bond walked on a few minutes later.

“Care for some company?” he asked from the entrance.

I was in my seat, belt across my waist, drink in hand, with a tablet on my lap. I shut the cover over the screen and crossed my boots. “Sure. Come on in.”

The plane sat ten. It had a four-seater couch on one side, a row of two single seats, and two sets of two that faced each other. I was sitting in the two sets of two, and Bond took the spot across from me. He dropped his briefcase on the space next to him and put his belt on.

“I thought you were going to hang out with Shank for a few days.”

“Something came up, and I have to get back. I figured, why not ride with you?” His eyes told a whole different story.

That was one of the things about my job; I’d gotten real good at reading eyes. I knew when someone was lying, when they were holding back. And I usually knew what it would take to get them to spill.

For Bond, all I had to do was ask him. “What’s the real reason you’re flying back?”

Before he had a chance to answer, the flight attendant came and said to Bond, “What can I get you to drink?”

“Scotch. Neat.”

She’d be coming back with a tumbler of liquor, and before the flight was over, he’d be getting his dick sucked. Drinking and coming were the only things to do on these long-ass trips, and this chick was always more than eager to help with both.

With his scotch now in his hand, Bond set his shoe over his other thigh and looked right at me. “I wanted to check in on you. It’s been a while. I want to make sure things are as they should be.”

Bullshit.

“Say it, Bond. Whatever it is.” I lifted my glass in the air, shaking it so that the cubes hit the sides.

The girl noticed and signaled that she’d bring me another.

“Give it to me straight,” I said.

He didn’t say anything as my drink was delivered, and he remained quiet after she left. The plane then taxied onto the runway, and the pilot let us know we were going to take off.

Once the wheels were no longer

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