Chapter Eight
James
Despite a long ride to clear my head, it’s still full of thick smog when I park outside Sadie’s apartment.
A few of our guys had a brush with some Fivers in no-man’s land, ending with Nico’s arm broken and Raph needing several stitches.
It wasn’t even a big fight, but I’m worried real casualties are just around the corner.
A low, rumbling bark follows my knock. “Is there someone here, Soot? Are you going to kill them?”
The door opens, and the giant black dog lumbers out, ears and lips flapping. The low growl lasts for barely a second before he’s sniffing me, tail wagging. I scratch the top of his head, dodging his tongue as he attempts to lick any exposed skin.
“You’re a worthless guard dog,” Sadie says, leaning against the open door.
Her mouth opens, like she’s going to say something else.
I stop her by surging forward, hand reaching for her face.
I have the presence of mind to stop myself before I touch her, but I don’t move back.
Anger sparks at the fading bruise on her cheek.
“What happened? Who did that?” It comes out as more of a demand than a question.
Oddly, the glimmer that fills her eyes is pleasure, not fear or annoyance at my outburst. “Wow, my very own ‘who did that to you’ moment. I’ve dreamt about this my entire adult life.”
“What are you talking about?” Her words make even less sense than normal.
I can’t think past the tsunami-like roar provoking my protective instincts.
It’s not that it’s Sadie. Not completely.
Every nerve in my body would be trembling with the need for violent vengeance whether it was Luna or Bella or, hell, even June who’d been hurt.
“You know. The classic moment in romance books where the guy sees the girl has been hurt and he gets all blood-thirsty for revenge and demands who hurt her because he’s so in love and protective that the idea of anyone touching what’s his turns him into John Wick?”
I blink. The tsunami is still growing, but it’s muffled behind confusion and a soft sense of amusement. “I’m not in love with you.”
“Yes, I’m aware. But you still did the thing.”
“Can I assume you’re not going to tell me who hurt you?”
“What if no one hurt me? What if I’m just clumsy and hurt myself?”
“Did you?” She gives me a sheepish shrug. “Exactly. Tell me who.”
“I hate to say it, because this has always been a major fantasy of mine, but I’m not telling you.”
“Sadie…”
She shakes her head. “Nope. We have more important things to discuss. Now, come inside.” She steps back, nodding for me to follow. The house smells of chocolate and baking pastries.
“I made brownies and got Takis,” she says, as if hearing my thoughts.
“I said no snacks.”
“And I ignored you. Corner or center piece?”
There’s honestly no point arguing. Knowing Sadie, she’ll force the dessert down my throat. I lean against the back of her couch, crossing my arms as she walks to the small kitchen and starts cutting into a square pan. “Corner, of course.”
“Center, all the way. It’s the gooiest.”
“But with the corner, you get the best of the crunchy edges and the moist center.”
“Ew. Don’t say moist.”
I nearly smirk at the revulsion on her face that’s quickly replaced by excitement when she scoops out two large, steaming brownies. She sets each on a plate with a fork and carries them to the living room, passing one to me.
“Takis are on the counter if you want some.”
I accept the plate, mouthwatering at the tempting dessert. “Maybe after the brownie.”
“And you said no snacks.”
“This isn’t an office holiday party. We didn’t need snacks.”
“The best things in life are the pleasures you don’t need.”
“Deep,” I say, voice deadpan. She throws me a wink and settles onto the couch, cutting into her brownie with a fork. “Now, tell me about Amber. What did she say?”
“God. You’re allergic to small talk.”
“I don’t have unlimited time. Church starts in two hours.”
“Why do you guys call it ‘church’?”
“It’s an old tradition. A way of respecting the meeting.”
“It’s not to give middle aged church-going ladies heart attacks for your sacrilegious use of the term?”
“That’s just an added bonus.”
She laughs, then slides a large piece of brownie into her mouth.
I can’t stop my gaze from dropping to her lips as they circle the fork.
As if noticing my attention, she pulls the utensil out slowly, almost sensually.
Her tongue darts out to capture a rogue melted bit of chocolate on her bottom lip, and I barely avoid groaning.
Shit. I rip my eyes away from that ‘fuck me’ mouth with a scowl. She smirks but wisely doesn’t comment on my lapse of judgement.
“So? Amber?” I say to refocus us.
“Right. It doesn’t seem she had much information to pass the South Five.
She told them about all of you, including each member’s weaknesses.
But I don’t think any of it was stuff the Fivers would’ve had trouble learning.
Just normal shit. Like Benny is close to his cousin, Lydia, and Matthew has a fiancé named Krissy.
But she also snapped pictures of some files from Theo’s office.
A drug ledger, I think. And maybe information on your past chop shop jobs.
There were some transactions she couldn’t understand. She didn’t have the photos, though.”
I nod. We assumed she had shown Bowie as much. That’s why we changed all our accounts and phones and switched our books over to encrypted electronic versions. We were most worried about our solo job clients, like Lorry, or third-party people we hire such as Ace being affected.
“She never met the Fivers on their turf. They always sent her a new location an hour before meeting, usually somewhere public. She only met with Bowie a few times. Every other time, it was with his second-in-command. Smith or something.”
“Gray?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Knew it was something stupid common.”
“It’s not his real name.”
“That’s even dumber.”
I’d have to agree. Instead of saying that, I wave my hand for her to continue.
“She wasn’t that helpful. I think she was high most of the time she met with them, because her memory recall was worse than a goldfish. She said Gray was nice and always promised she was safe, which seems unlikely.”
“He has a reputation for luring people into a false sense of security before snapping. People call him the Hawk.”
“Why?”
“Some type of hawk uses aggressive mimicry to lure their prey. Can’t remember which one.”
“Why doesn’t he go by Hawk? That’s much more badass than Gray.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him you don’t approve of his nickname choice.”
“Thanks.” She smiles and takes another bite of her brownie.
I don’t get a chance to leer this time, because Soot decides to climb onto the couch, even though he’s about twice the size of the free cushion.
I scoot back, but he still ends up dropping his head in my lap, while his ass is half on Sadie.
She doesn’t seem disturbed, just balances her plate on his haunches before continuing her story.
“The Fivers asked for a list of your clients. She made one of people she knew bought drugs from the Cage, then messaged them to meet. Bowie showed up that time, and she said he got pissed when he saw her list. Apparently, it wasn’t what he wanted.
He kept asking about your other clients, but she didn’t know what he meant. She still doesn’t.”
“He means the clients from our solo jobs. The ones that only Theo, Luna, and I handle. You know, like…” I trail off, hesitant to say Lorry’s name. The man kidnapped and almost killed Sadie’s best friend not long ago.
From how Sadie’s lips thin and her brows lower, I think she knows exactly who I’m referring to. “Well, Amber didn’t know that.”
“Theo never told her about those jobs. We don’t usually tell anyone. The Saints only have the vaguest idea of what we do.”
“It seems Bowie is obsessed with knowing more about them. Amber remembers that meeting more than any other. It was also the last one before Theo threatened her into rehab.”
I lean back, blowing out a frustrated breath and absentmindedly scratch behind the dog’s ears while I think. Amber is as useless now as she was when Theo was fucking her. Though, it is concerning that Bowie not only knows about our solo jobs but cares enough to want information.
“The only other thing she learned was that Bowie likes pomegranates. She said he was eating the seeds during the entire meeting.”
“That’s so random.”
“I agree. But also, it made me want pomegranates. So, I bought some if you’re interested.”
I ignore that. “There was really nothing else?”
She shakes her head. “Amber wasn’t the most reliable spy.”
“No. What we really need is a high-level defection. I’m sure there’s at least one Fiver sick of Bowie's bullshit.”
“And how do you expect to find them? Or get them to help you? From the way I hear everyone talk about the South Five, they’re a ruthless bunch. No one will want to help you when they risk getting their tongues ripped out.”
I stand, and Soot lifts his head, whining at the loss of my scratches. “Leave that to me. You did plenty. Thanks.”
“That’s all? You’re leaving?”
“Do you have anything else to tell me?” I ask, taking my empty brownie plate to the kitchen sink.
“No, but I could help you brainstorm to—”
“You can’t get more involved, or June will have my head for putting you in danger.”
“I thought we were partners,” she argues, following me to the kitchen. Soot sits up, watching her leave. “I’m supposed to help you by protecting June. Talking to one junkie ex is not protecting June.”
I grind my teeth together. This isn't the first time I’ve regretted making a reckless decision about Sadie. It was a weak moment when I agreed to work with her. Now, I realize that dragging Sadie into this is the last thing June would want. And anything that pisses June off pisses Theo off.
This new dynamic with my brother is difficult to grow accustomed to.
I’ve only ever seen him this in love once before, and that was with my sister, so I’d matched his intensity with my own love for Scottie.
Plus, we were younger then. And despite the shit we’d both been through, we were blissfully ignorant about how bad this world can really be.
Now that Theo has experienced the worst loss imaginable, he’s an all-new level of protective.
“I need to talk to Theo, Daryus, and Kip before I know what our next step is. Honestly, I may ask you to take June out of town. Confronting the Fivers will be easier if Theo knows June is safe far away.”
“Have you met June? She runs toward danger. Not away.”
“I know. That’s why she can’t see it as running. I’m sure you can think of a good excuse to get her out of town without her being suspicious.”
She frowns, though I think I see an idea spark in her eyes. “Fine. I could probably get her away for a few days at the end of the month. But until then, let me help some other way.”
“I need more information before we do anything else. I promise I’ll text you when I know more. Don’t do anything stupid before then.”