23. Dante
“What did you find out?”Maddoc asks, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms over his chest.
The man looks fucking grim, and Logan is no better. It just makes me all the more determined to take what we’ve learned and bring West Point down. The shit they’ve been pulling hasn’t just been harming the organization, it’s also wearing on my brothers.
“They admitted that those fucking weasels have been giving them a hard time,” I say, grabbing an apple out of the bowl we keep on the counter and tossing it back and forth between my hands. “Threatening repercussions if they keep doing business with us.”
Maddoc scowls, even though there’s no way he’s surprised. The whole reason he sent me and Logan to lean on this particular supplier was because we suspected that their recent change of heart had something to do with West Point.
Turns out we were right.
“How much of our business is West Point actively interfering with?” Maddoc asks, his expression hard.
“Too much,” I say before Logan can jump in with the facts and figures he’s no doubt got burned into his brain. Important info, for sure, but my answer is correct too. “We need to deal with this shit already, Madd.”
He nods, his jaw clenched tight. “We will.”
“Good,” I say, a grin spreading across my face as my blood heats up. I bite into the apple, letting its sweetness burst over my tongue. “So when do we move?”
“Not yet,” Maddoc tells me, his tone measured. “We need to have a talk with McKenna first.”
I scoff. “Talk?”
We all know West Point is fucking with us. Lately, every pile of shit we turn over stinks of them. McKenna is clearly trying to escalate things, but even though we’ve addressed some of the direct interference, Madd’s been smart and cautious about responding. He’s had us gathering information and getting our ducks in a row, thinking things through strategically and planning how to use what we know.
It’s what makes him a great fucking leader, but sometimes you just need to smash a few skulls in to make a point, and as far as I’m concerned, that time is now.
“Talk,” Maddoc repeats grimly, crossing his arms over his chest.
I know he wants to play this the right way, but long term vision or not, he must be just as ready as I am for a fight.
It’s time to step things up.
I glance over at Logan for some support, because if there’s anyone I can count on to go fucking medieval when our brotherhood is threatened, it’s him. But he doesn’t jump into the conversation the way I’m hoping for. His face is set like stone, eyes fixed on the wall behind me like he’s lost in his thoughts.
“Logan?” I bump his shoulder with mine. “Don’t you think it’s time to cause West Point some pain?”
He blinks, refocusing on my face as soon as I speak. Then he gives me a quick, sharp nod. “Yes. Their increased interference warrants a decisive response.”
O…kay. Not that I’m surprised he agrees with me, even though of course we’re both gonna go with Madd’s call on the timing, but something is definitely up with him. While Logan’s scary-sharp brain has obviously been following the conversation, he hasn’t contributed much. In fact, he hasn’t really said much of anything all morning, leaving it mostly to me and Madd to bounce information back and forth.
Silence isn’t exactly out of character, since Logan tends to bottle shit up, but it kinda has a different flavor to it than usual right now. A sour one that has worry flickering in my chest.
I glance at Maddoc, wondering if he’s noticed the same thing or if he’s too focused on the logistics of this bullshit with West Point to have caught on to Logan’s mood. But Madd’s looking down at his phone, scowling as he taps out a quick response to something one of our lower-level members must’ve sent him.
Maddoc has known Logan longer than I have and knows more of his history, since they’ve been tight since they were kids. There was some heavy shit that went down for Logan back during his childhood that still haunts him. Shit that shaped him, and that I’m pretty sure is the fuel for the cold fury he unleashes on the world sometimes.
An image of my father’s murdered corpse flits through my mind, reminding me that we all have our fucking demons, but I shove it down.
We’ve all been through our shit, and part of the reason the three of us work so well together as the Reapers’ inner circle is that we give each other space to work that out in our own ways and time.
There was a period a little over a year ago when shit went seriously south with Logan. Not sure what the catalyst was, but for a while there, it seemed like he might lose the battle against his particular demons.
I was here, but he shut me out, and I’m pretty sure only Maddoc saved him from going somewhere so dark we wouldn’t have been able to get him back.
Those two have a connection that goes way back to when Logan was living on the streets, doing some small-time jobs for Maddoc’s dad, hustling just to put food in his mouth because there wasn’t anyone else looking out for him.
They were just kids, but Madd was still Madd, so of course he decided he wasn’t gonna let Logan become disposable. They’ve been tight ever since. But even though Logan and I may not have the same history, he’s just as much my brother now as he is Maddoc’s. So if Madd is distracted at the moment, it’s up to me to pull Logan out of the dark pit I see brewing behind his blank-eyed stare.
“Hey. You eaten yet?” I ask, grabbing another apple out of the bowl and tossing it to Logan before crunching into mine again.
He still looks like he’s not all the way here with us, but I feel a little better when he snatches it out of the air with the kind of insane automatic reflexes that make him so fucking deadly to our enemies.
“Yes,” he says curtly, carefully placing the apple down on the counter and then ignoring it like I knew he would.
Fair enough. Logan isn’t just a creature of habit, he’s got an almost manic dedication to certain orderly routines, and one of those is the boring-ass egg white and spinach omelet he eats every morning with whole grain toast. That’s all he’ll eat for breakfast, but that’s fine. The apple isn’t the fucking point. Logan just needs some human contact sometimes. Some “increased interference” of the brotherly variety when he starts spiraling too deep into that complex headspace of his.
Maddoc is still frowning down at his phone, no doubt getting an update from Isaac or one of our other runners about the West Point activities we’ve been keeping an eye on.
So I pluck out another apple from the bowl and throw it at Logan’s head.
He stops it right in front of his face in a CGI-worthy superhero move that has me grinning, and a glimmer of life finally appears in his eyes as he glares at me.
“I’m not hungry.”
I take another bite of my apple. “You sure about that? They’re good. And you might need the energy to help us figure out our next moves against West Point.”
“I won’t.”
“What, you won’t help?” I goad him. “Damn. I thought you had our backs, brother.”
Logan doesn’t laugh because he’s Logan, but I definitely consider the way his lips tighten into a thin white line of irritation a total win.
“I won’t need additional energy from complex carbohydrates,” he enunciates carefully, proving beyond a doubt that I’m annoying him… which means he’s not stuck quite so deep in his head anymore.
Mission accomplished.
“Your loss.” I shrug, finishing the last bite of my apple and throwing the core into the garbage disposal. Then I pivot, giving him a break and getting back to business now that he’s back with us a little. “So how are we gonna handle West Point tonight?”
Logan parses out a few cryptic logistical details and Maddoc finally ends the text exchange with Isaac and updates us with some new intel.
The three of us get so caught up hashing out plans that I don’t notice Riley come into the kitchen until Maddoc stops mid-sentence, a flash of heat passing through his eyes as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“Fuck, princess,” I say with an appreciative smile when I turn and find her in his line of sight. “That’s a good look on you.”
In other words, naked… other than the towel she’s got wrapped around herself.
She glares at me, then lifts her chin and looks at Maddoc. “I need clothes.”
Not as far as I’m concerned, but guess I don’t get a vote.
I grin and lean back, shoving my hands into my pockets and preparing to enjoy the show. She’s fucking ballsy as all hell, and it’s the best entertainment we’ve had around here in a while… but I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who’s enjoying it based on the way Logan has gone stone-faced again and Maddoc has carefully wiped away the lust I saw in his expression when she walked in so that his features now look just as blank as Logan’s.
Not that I’m not surprised. Both of my brothers have their reasons for distrusting women, and I’m not gonna say they’re wrong, even though my own instincts tell me Riley’s not a danger to us.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Maddoc asks her in a clipped voice meant to intimidate.
“I just told you,” she shoots back, pulling the towel tighter around herself. “I need some new clothes.”
“What’s wrong with the ones we had picked up from your apartment?” Maddoc snaps.
She presses her lips together, her eyes flicking over to Logan for a half second before she answers him in a tight voice. “I can’t wear them. They’re… wrecked.”
I frown, then catch Maddoc’s eye. I’m not the only one who caught that tell-tale look she sent Logan’s way. He’s back to impersonating a fucking statue, face completely blank and eyes so closed-off they look like iced-over metal.
Maddoc nods. I doubt he has any more information here than I do, but we both know our brother and can read between the lines. Something obviously went down between the two of them, and that something involved Logan causing this, uh, clothing malfunction of Riley’s.
“Dante, take care of this,” Maddoc says, giving me a look that assures me he’s finally clued in that our brother is a bit off today. More so than usual, I mean. “Get some new things delivered here for her, and make sure she’s got a dress or something for tonight.”
I nod as I pull out my phone to handle it.
“You can go,” Maddoc tells Riley as I leave the room to make some calls to arrange for what she needs.
I look back at her, half expecting her to give Madd some shit for being so bossy, but she’s busy glancing at Logan again.
There’s an expression on her face I can’t quite get a handle on, and it makes me wonder what the hell happened last night. She’s giving off an energy like she’s freaked out, but there’s also something that almost feels like sexual tension filling the air between them, which isn’t something I ever thought I’d say about Logan and… well, anyone.
I make the arrangements I need to for her new clothes with one of our lower-level members, which takes a bit of time to sort out, since if she came downstairs in just a towel, she probably needs everything. And Jesus fucking Christ, explaining the color palette I want for her to the kid who’s going to pick it all up and bring it here strains my patience almost to the point of snapping. But finally, it’s done.
There are other logistics I need to handle before tonight, and when I pass by the kitchen a while later, I hear the low murmur of Maddoc’s voice.
When I poke my head in, I see that he’s still in there with Logan.
“I just need to know it’s not going to be a problem,” he’s saying, leaning in, right up in Logan’s face.
His posture isn’t aggressive, and I can tell at a glance that this isn’t Maddoc our leader. This is our brother, forcing Logan to actually make eye contact because Madd’s just as concerned about him as I am.
Logan gives him a single, jerky nod.
“Logan,” Maddoc says, frowning. “If you need—”
“I’m fine,” Logan cuts in, his voice stiff.
I’m not sure I buy it, and I can tell Maddoc is just as conflicted. But finally, he nods. “Okay. Good. Because this isn’t the time to do anything stupid.”
He squeezes Logan’s shoulder, something Logan would eviscerate anyone else for. Our brother does not like to be touched… and the fact that he lets Maddoc get away with something that fucking sentimental sends another flicker of worry through me.
Neither Madd nor Logan have noticed me in the doorway, and I step away and leave them to it. If there’s any hope of Logan opening up even the slightest, it’ll be to Maddoc, and I really do have some shit I need to handle for the gang before we head out tonight.
But even as I get back to work, I can’t stop my thoughts from turning.
Riley has given us an opportunity to fuck with West Point, and I appreciate that fact. Hell, pretty sure I’m gonna enjoy it. But she’s also thrown our lives into chaos, each of us in different ways, and even though I’m generally a fan of a little chaos, I’m starting to realize that having her live with us is dangerous in a way I never expected.