His phone buzzed in his pocket. “Son of a bitch.”
He dug it out and put it to his ear. “Hello.”
“I hate to call you this early, but I just found out our boy Peter got taken out in jail,” Moose said.
“What?” Juliette glanced up and he held up a finger.
“What the fuck happened?”
“You know the drill, no one saw anything. Someone didn’t want him to talk. All his transactions and client lists have been wiped.”
Shooter whistled. “I want to be happy about this, but I don’t think this is over.”
“No, but your girl should be safe at least. That’s something,” Moose said.
“That’s everything man. Thanks for the heads-up.” He disconnected and turned to Juliette. “We got an early wedding present. Stant’s dead.”
“What, how?”
Shooter shook his head. “Someone in jail, whoever he’s in bed with, doesn’t want anything getting out.”
“Is it over?” she whispered.
He took the bag and the mug from her hand and set them on the night stand. “It is for you, baby. You’re finally free.” She pulled back. “But what ab—”
“No baby, right now is for us.”
He leaned over and captured her lips. The sweetness of her mouth and the unexpected gift of threat removal brought him peace. He couldn’t protect what the future held, and they still had a lot to work out, but he knew who’d be beside him, and for now that was enough.