CROW (Boston Underworld Book 1) by A. Zavarelli Read Free Book Online

won’t mind if I do.”
    “Nobody’ll be getting her bleeding number.”
    This time Ronan’s disapproving gaze burns into the back of my head. I glare back at him in the mirror as I pull up to the curb. Rory gets out, and Ronan lingers behind when I leave the car idling.
    “I’ve some business to do. Keep an eye on things for me?”
    He nods, but gives me the stink eye. As far as loops go, Ronan’s in on just about all of them. This one’s a different story. A man has a right to keep a few things to himself now and then.
    “An hour tops,” I tell him.
    That’s my cue for him to get out. He’d never shut up if he knew what just went down with the Russians. Ronan can only handle this kind of information in small doses. He’ll need to warm up to the girl a bit before I clue him in.
    He shuts the door, and I drive to the empty parking garage downtown where I meet my contact. Detective James is already waiting for me, his feet crossed as he leans back against his blue sedan with a newspaper and coffee in hand.
    The garage is empty, but I don’t get out. He comes around to the passenger side and slides in beside me, wasting no time in handing off the file.
    “The ballistics report. Your suspicions were confirmed.”
    I already knew what I’d find in the file, but seeing it doesn’t make it easier. This confirms that the bullet inside of my grand-da didn’t belong to the Armenians. Niall will hand this off to Viktor as proof of their traitor though I’ve no doubt they’ll still argue the leak is on our side.
    “Fecking Christ,” I mutter.
    “I don’t envy you.” Detective James sips from his coffee. “Breaking news like that.”
    I pull a fat stack of cash from my jacket and toss it into his lap. He moves to get out of the car when I stop him.
    “There’s more where that came from.” I nod at the cash.
    “What do you need?” he asks.
    “Information.”
    He takes out a notepad and pen from his pocket and stares at me. “On?”
    My focus turns out the window and I tap my fingers against the steering wheel.
    “Mackenzie Wilder.”
     

 
     
    Chapter Five

    Mackenzie
     
    I spend every one of the next six days jotting down notes about Lachlan and his crew and practicing my dance moves. Between taking lessons and Scarlett teaching me, I’ve picked up a few good tricks that I know I can pull off well. It isn’t really the tricks I’m worried about. Scarlett used to dance in clubs like this one, albeit far less classy, and she filled me in on the dirty details.
    I don’t know how things work at Slainte, but I know being an exotic dancer isn’t easy. It’s not all about grinding on a pole and shaking your ass. You have to hustle, and you need to have unflappable confidence. Some men are going to treat you like shit. They’re going to tell you to piss off because your tits are too small or your ass is too big and you’re not their type, or they might get all grabby and feel entitled to it. It can go either way really. Plus, add alcohol into the mix, and you just know there are going to be problems. Some places have rooms in the back where other stuff goes on if the client is willing to shell out. I’m hoping to hell that Slainte isn’t one of them. Regardless, I won’t be partaking in that.
    From everything I’ve learned about the club, it seems a lot more upscale than most. But that doesn’t mean anything, really. It could just look nice and presentable on the outside. I won’t know until I’m in the midst of it what I’m getting myself into exactly. Still, I’m convinced I can pull this off even if I’ve never actually worked as an exotic dancer. I just need to be sexy and unique and give these guys a reason to let me stick around for a while.
    Easier said than done, considering I’ve never really had a boyfriend. But what I do have is a body that I’ve worked my ass off for and my God-given looks. Men go ape shit over my blue eyes and black hair. Toss in some leather and lace and they