Have Gun, Will Travel (The Bare Bones MC Book 5) by Layla Wolfe Read Free Book Online Page B

guy was soap opera handsome, and almost dressed as though starring in one. His white-toothed smile was ingratiating, his perfectly coiffed black and silver hair curly and shiny, as though molded with hairspray, or worse. He was clad in a flashy chartreuse patterned polyester shirt with a jacket that was probably polyester too, the airplane collar sticking out just so. Still, as flamboyant as he was, he struck me as good-hearted and well intentioned. He flapped the lapels of his jacket and looked down at me as though I were a photographer. I half expected one of his teeth to twinkle.
    While Brenda was occupied catching up with Sax, Rhetta introduced me with excitement. “Beatrix, this is Santiago. Santiago Slayer.”
    While I pondered on the meaning of his name, he took my hand and actually kissed it. His voice was richly modulated, the enunciation of a well-educated man from Mexico City. “Madam. I am at your service. I have heard of the horrible, the most gruesome, vomit-inducing things that have happened to your business partner, Cassie. I am here to ensure that vengeance is served.”
    Was Santiago…was he a sicario ? Somehow, I didn’t picture sicarios walking around in two-toned white patent leather shoes. He didn’t fit the image at all. Sax, however, did.
    When I stood, Sax did too, brushing away Brenda and her babblings. I said, “So you’re willing to take care of our problem? Because Sax here just agreed to help us out too.”
    Santiago drew himself up at the mention of a rival. He formally placed one hand against his stomach and glared at Sax, nodding tightly. “Sir. May the race be swift and the best man win. But I can guarantee you women, you will not regret having engaged the services of Santiago Slayer, famed sicario to many organizations throughout the southwest.”
    I looked to Rhetta. She explained, “I knew Santiago from the ashram. Our leader used him as sort of an enforcer when people weren’t behaving.”
    “That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t need to know the details.”
    “Santiago Slayer,” stated Sax. “I’ve heard of you. Didn’t you let some mark go cruising on by down at the Desert Diamond Casino in Tucson because you had to duck into a bathroom to fix your hair?”
    “Sir!” barked Slayer. “I would never compromise a mission due to false vanity that I do not possess, and I’ll have you know, my hair would never need fixing in the cool air conditioned environment of a casino!”
    I could tell by Sax’s satisfied smile that he was correct in his assessment of Slayer, as well as his vanity. It would be an interesting rivalry if we were to hire both men for our job. Maybe they’d spur each other to greater heights of accomplishment.

CHAPTER FOUR
    SAX
    S eeing that vain, shallow polyester stallion who dressed as though he’d traveled through time pricked at Sax’s memory banks.
    He remembered Santiago Slayer from when he was just a Ken doll of a hitman. He had started out as an actor in Mexico City and had somehow been swept up in cartel living. Maybe the ego boost of belonging to a cartel was greater than that of being on daytime telenovelas. Slayer seemed much too big of a pussy to ever actually kill anyone, the reason no one had taken him seriously for quite a long time. But when a rival cartel member wound up hanging from a bridge down in Magdalena, Sonora, a traffic camera caught Santiago Slayer doing the deed, and his name rang in the streets from then on in.
    Sax knew Slayer could achieve Beatrix’s goal for her. He could have just walked away once he knew Slayer was on the job. But for some reason, Slayer’s obnoxious posturing got to Sax. He felt a rivalry coming on. Maybe because Beatrix was watching, he suddenly felt the need to prove something to her.
    She had really gotten under his skin in the short time he’d known her. Her camp counselor’s attire, her innocent, virtuous face as though gleaming from a spring shower, her underlying naughtiness all brought