23. Maddoc
Once The Six’srepresentative leaves, I pinch the bridge of my nose and allow myself one breath—no, two—to get my shit back under control after letting my temper explode. Then I refocus, my emotions shoved to the background and my mind racing ahead as I mentally play out possible ramifications of getting on their radar like this.
I sigh. None of them are good, but since I’ve built an entire organization that counts on me to lead it, I’m gonna have to figure out how best to handle the newest shit sandwich we’ve been served up and still come out on top.
And luckily, I don’t have to figure it out alone.
“We’ve got twenty-four hours until the meet,” I point out, meeting the eyes of my seconds. My brothers. “Let’s make sure we’ve got everything in order so we make a good showing. Your thoughts?”
“Those fucking weasels,” Dante spits out, his eyes dark with an uncharacteristic anger that he doesn’t usually let show. “It never would have come to an open shootout if Payton hadn’t been retaliating for a move they made first. They started this shit by killing Troy.”
“Over Chloe,” Riley says quietly, her face pale.
Dante immediately tamps down on his rage.
“Nah, princess,” he says, bumping her shoulder with a little smile. “None of this is on you or your sister. McKenna’s a stupid jackass who didn’t even know what he was hoping to get when he took Troy. The Six wouldn’t be up in our business at all if it weren’t for how fucking reckless he is.”
I grit my teeth. He’s not wrong. And yeah, it pisses me the fuck off too.
“But you guys said West Point interrogated Troy to find out what—who—you were searching the city for,” Riley argues in a tight voice. “And that’s Chloe.”
“Let’s stay focused,” I say sharply. I don’t like hearing the worry and guilt in Riley’s voice. Besides, we’re getting off track, me included. I’ve long since learned that getting pissed off over Austin fucking McKenna is a waste of time. It’s why I plan on destroying him… eventually. But right now, our priority is getting through this meeting with The Six.
Riley gives me a short, tight nod. “Fine.”
I should leave it at that, but I don’t. Something in me drives me to give her back the words she offered me earlier today too. “Dante’s right. It really isn’t your fault.”
She smiles—a small one, but still enough to make something inside me unwind a little.
Then she looks away, and it tightens up again.
Dante lets out an explosive breath, running a hand through his chocolate-brown hair in frustration. “Not even a little bit your fault. McKenna set this train wreck in motion.”
“The Six aren’t going to care who started it,” Logan says flatly. “They don’t use their power to play mediator, trying to make everyone here in Halston get along. They use it to keep order.”
Riley’s brow crinkles. “So The Six are like, what… an enforcement group? Gang war police?”
“No,” Logan says.
“I mean, sorta,” Dante throws in with a shrug. “They do keep the various criminal elements here in Halston in line.”
“And if our current conflict with West Point has drawn their ire,” Logan adds, “it’s bad.”
“What kind of bad?” Riley asks, looking between the three of us.
My brothers look to me, silently questioning how deeply I’m willing to share our world with her. But at this point, there’s no reason to keep or hide anything from her... and one very important reason to make sure she’s well-informed.
Her safety.
Whether any of us intended it or not, Riley is part of our world now—and once we secure Chloe’s inheritance, she’ll continue to have ties to it forever. It’s best she knows more about how Halston really operates.
“Are they a rival gang?” Riley presses.
“No,” I tell her. “The Six are a lot bigger than just a gang. They came into power a couple years ago, and you could say they’re sort of the royalty of the underworld of Halston. They keep order among the various criminal elements in the city.”
“And they enforce that order strictly,” Logan adds. “They don’t interfere with how we operate or try to control every little thing that any one organization does, but they’ve got eyes everywhere and the power to make sure everyone stays in line.”
My jaw starts to tic again. “And that no organization draws the kind of unwanted attention that can disrupt business.”
“Do they… work with the police?” Riley asks, her brow furrowed. Then, because she’s not just gorgeous, she’s smart as hell, she immediately shakes her head. “No, of course they don’t. Is that what that guy meant? That they don’t like that the cops know what happened today?”
“Right,” I say. “The Six know more about the dark underbelly of Halston than the police ever will, and they’ve made it clear that that’s how they want to keep it.”
Dante nods. “They don’t give a shit about our war with West Point, but if they’re calling both us and McKenna in to discuss it, then they’re seriously pissed that it escalated to the point that it’s drawn that kind of attention.”
“What will they do? What are they like?” Riley asks, her gaze bouncing between Logan and Dante.
But not me.
She’s avoiding my gaze.
I’m the one who deliberately put some distance between us after we fucked, so I’m not surprised that she’s acting a bit closed off.
What surprises me is how much it bothers me.
“The Six keep to themselves,” Logan tells Riley.
His dry delivery makes her laugh, even though I know Logan was just being factual as always.
“So you’re saying none of you have actually met them?”
“Not yet,” I say, my grim tone reminding us all that the clock is ticking. I turn the discussion to practical matters, then break up our little huddle once everyone knows what needs to get taken care of.
Dante and Logan head off, but when Riley tries to follow I catch her arm, stopping her.
She raises an eyebrow, her guarded expression silently asking me why.
Fuck if I know, but I have to say something, and what comes out of my mouth, surprising us both, is—
“Just wanted to thank you.”
She stares up at me, and for the life of me, I can’t read her expression this time at all.
Fair enough. Since I don’t even know what the hell it is I’m thanking her for, or if that’s even the right word for what I’m feeling right now, there’s no real reason to expect I’d have some great insight into her frame of mind, either.
She holds my gaze, clearly waiting for more, but I don’t think I can give it to her.
Not won’t.
Can’t.
All I know for sure is that I was in a rough place today, and she brought me back from the edge of that. I needed her, needed what we did, in a way that went deeper than I’m comfortable with. And yeah, I’m grateful for it, but gratitude isn’t all I feel. I just don’t have the words for the rest.
“Okay,” Riley says quietly before I can find them.
She pulls free of my hold and slips away to return to her room, and I let her go. I don’t have time to go all soft anyway. Hell, there’s never a good time for that. Sienna taught me that one, loud and clear, and even if Riley seems different—
Nope.
I shut that shit down fast and head down the hall to my office, putting my focus on where it needs to be tonight. On shoring up our defenses to get out ahead of the West Point threat and doing whatever else I can come up with to make sure that when we walk into that meeting with The Six tomorrow, we don’t just walk back out, but we come out on top.
I stare at the map on my wall, my mind spinning. I don’t want to challenge The Six. But getting on The Six’s bad side would put everything I’ve been building since the day I decided to not follow in my father’s footsteps at risk.
Which is why I won’t let it happen.
I scrub a hand over my face, then get to work. But despite my best intentions, amid all my focus—the planning, the strategy, the hustle—I can’t for the fucking life of me seem to stop thoughts of Riley from slipping in too.
“Fuck,Madd, you look like shit. Did you get any sleep at all?”
Dante grins at me and I flip him off, gratefully reaching for the coffee Logan hands me when I walk into the kitchen the next morning. We’re all up early, but they’re just as aware as I am of how much we need to do today to make sure our house is in order, so none of us linger once we’ve brought each other up to speed on the night’s developments.
I’m not the only one who barely got any sleep.
Logan stays at the house, holing up in his room to continue coordinating the search for Chloe and Dante heads out to make the rounds of some of our allies, shoring up those relationships to ensure that whatever comes down tonight, we’re in a position of strength to deal with it.
I spare a brief thought for Riley, but then dismiss it. She’ll keep herself occupied for the day, I’m sure, and I can’t afford distractions today. I need to fortify our territory against West Point. Go out and personally see to it that our perimeter is solid and my organization is secure.
It takes me all fucking day, and it’s worth it.
When I get back to the house that evening, it’s time to head out for the meeting with The Six. I’m going on a day and a half without sleep, but it’s not my first rodeo and I’m more than capable of pushing through, especially with so much on the line.
“I’m driving,” I tell Logan when his eyes stray toward the Audi. I know damn well that being in control helps him stay centered and focused, but tonight he’ll just have to deal.
Luckily, he knows me just as well as I do him—and knows all the reasons I need to stay in control right now—so he just nods and heads to the passenger side of the Escalade without any argument, Dante and Riley taking the backseat.
I glance in the rearview mirror as I start up the engine, meeting Riley’s defiant gaze as I prepare to pull out of the garage. The light catches, sparkling. She’s switched out the blue jewel she had in her nose earlier for another one. I liked the way the other one picked up the vibrant color she’s got in her hair, but this one—a bad-ass-looking little black diamond skull—definitely suits her.
Kind of like she suits us.
Dante clears his throat, and I jerk my eyes away from her whiskey-brown gaze and get us on the road. It’s only once we’re halfway to downtown that I realize she never actually asked if she could come tonight. And that it didn’t even occur to me to stop her.
“Fuck,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand over my face.
“Problem, Madd?” Dante asks from the back seat, leaning forward.
I shake my head, but the real answer is… maybe.
Despite everything, I’m getting too fucking used to having Riley around, and bringing her tonight probably isn’t the right move since she’s an unplanned variable. Not to mention that she’ll be a hell of a lot safer if she stays off The Six’s radar.
What’s done is done though, because I’m not turning around.
And if I’m honest—even if it bites us in the ass later—I’m not sorry she’s here.
Shit was different with Sienna. Dante and Logan and I each have different strengths and weaknesses, but we always work in sync and always have. Except when she was around. She always managed to throw our rhythm off even before she betrayed me with McKenna, but having Riley here is different. Riley may have shot me, but Dante’s right. I respect her reasons for that, and instead of throwing the three of us off, it’s more like she balances us out.
That’s not an excuse to put her in danger though, so I’ll just have to make sure we don’t.
“Traffic’s bad heading into downtown,” Logan says, looking up from his phone. “You’ll probably want to take the bridge on Le Grand.”
I nod and make the adjustment.
“So what is this place we’re headed to, The Six’s headquarters or something?”
“Not sure where that would be,” Dante answers Riley with a low chuckle. “They keep their details pretty private, and for good reason. But I have heard that they do a lot of business out of Saraven when they need to have meetings on neutral territory, so sure, I guess you could call it the public version of their headquarters.”
“You’ve never been? Really? None of you?”
I shake my head, and Logan doesn’t bother answering.
“Nah,” Dante says. “The place is pretty upscale. A members-only club that’s pretty exclusive about who they let in the door, and that’s most definitely by invitation only.”
“And those invitations aren’t necessarily the kind you want to get,” Logan says drily.
Riley laughs, but I hear the nerves behind it. Probably why she’s asking so many questions.
“And it’s downtown?” she presses on. “Is that, um, does that territory belong to The Six?”
This time, Dante’s the one who laughs. “All of Halston belongs to The Six, princess. But for tonight, consider it neutral territory. Not ours. Not West Point’s. And not anywhere even McKenna would be stupid enough to start anything, no matter how this all goes down. Not right under the nose of The Six.”
“So, you’re saying it’s safe.”
Logan goes still in the seat next to me, and I meet Dante’s eyes in the rearview mirror again. I’ve got no doubt that they can hear the nerves in her voice just like I can… and that all three of us are having the same thought.
Dante’s the one who voices it.
“Uh, safe ain’t a word I would use for tonight,” he says after a beat. “Or ever. Not when The Six are already pissed off like this. But—”
“But you’ll be safe, butterfly,” I cut in. “You’re under our protection. We’ll make sure of it.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, finally going silent. There’s really not much to say, nothing else we can prepare for until we find out what they want with us.
Once we arrive at the club, we pass through a large, luxurious space that reminds me a bit of pictures I’ve seen of upscale speakeasies from the twenties. It’s massive, with a dining area and bar, a lounge, and what looks like smaller private rooms spread around the space. Cocktail waitresses in form-hugging dresses serve a clientele that pretends not to see us as we’re led down a corridor to a large room in the back, and once we enter, I’ve got no doubt at all who I’m looking at. We may not run in the same circles as The Six, but even with the way they work to stay behind the scenes when it comes to running Halston’s criminal underground, each one of them has a reputation.
I nod in greeting, keeping Riley behind me as Dante and Logan spread out to either side. The Six are seated behind a long, ornate table on a raised dais, and it’s not lost on me that there are no other chairs available. I don’t give a shit about their power plays, though. I only care about their actual power.
And what the fuck it is that they plan on doing with it right now.
The well-dressed attendant who led us to the room backs out of it silently, but my attention is focused on the group ahead of me. No one knows enough about them to get an edge, but what I do know is that they own this city.
None of them say a word, all six of them giving us assessing looks, like they’re taking our measure. Or else waiting for us to break.
I narrow my eyes. They’re gonna be waiting a long damn time if that’s what they’re after. They called us here. They’ll tell us why when they’re ready. Until then, I settle in, giving them the same treatment right back.
The dark-haired woman with the laser-sharp blue eyes has got to be Ayla Fairchild. That would be clear even without the sleek prosthetic peeking out of her right sleeve. Marcus Constantine has the dual-tone eyes, one as brown and deep as Riley’s, the other a mix between brown and light blue.
Ryland Bennett is dark and brooding and fucking jacked, covered in more ink than even Dante, but it’s Theo Harrington who reminds me most of my laid-back brother from another mother. Theo has lighter hair and eyes, but they both share a certain charm that probably masks their deadlier side.
The fourth man is the most mysterious of The Six, the one I know the least about, and the other woman, with a stunning face, auburn hair, and a demeanor as cold as ice, has got to be Victoria Tatum.
Each of them is deadly in their own right from everything I’ve heard… but if any one of them threatens what’s mine, I don’t give a shit how much power they wield in this city, I’ll do my best to take them down.
“Reapers,” Marcus says in greeting, dipping his chin in a nod.
Another door opens before I can reply, spitting out McKenna, Sienna, and a half dozen low-rent goons flashing gold WPG rings across their knuckles. Without missing a beat, Marcus adds smoothly, “And the West Point Gang. Thank you both for coming.”
“I always wanted to see the inside of this place,” McKenna says, his eyes hooded and greedy as he looks around at the simple but obviously high-end furnishings.
Marcus’s face drops the facade of warmth. “And now you have,” he says crisply. He turns his attention back to me. “Anything from you before we begin, Gray?”
I hear him, but I can’t respond. I can’t tear my gaze away from McKenna, not while something cold and furious is busy slithering down my spine, like the memory of Payton’s last breath just grabbed a hold of it with icy fingers now that I’m in the same room with the fucker who caused her death.
When McKenna flicks his eyes toward me with an oily smirk, I clench my jaw, hit hard with a sudden, visceral need to return that particular favor.
“Maddoc Gray?” Marcus prompts, his voice muffled by the blood rushing through my ears.
My hands slowly curl into fists as I stare McKenna down, and for the first time in my life, I’m not sure if I can hold my shit together when I need to. And maybe I couldn’t if I was alone… but I’m not.
As if they sense my rage—and how fucking close I am to doing something about it—Dante and Logan each move in toward my sides, closing ranks, and Riley rests a soft hand on my back, grounding me. It drains some of the fury away, reminding me why I’m here.
“Thank you for inviting us,” I answer Marcus’s question calmly, back in control again.
“I can’t say it’s a pleasure,” he replies baldly, “but now that everyone’s here, let me tell you why we asked you to come.”
I nod. Bring it. They may be The Six, the power behind the city, and McKenna may have shown up with more muscle than sense in a useless show of power, but I don’t need all that shit. Whatever it is that they’re about to throw at me, all I’ll ever need is my two brothers by my side to handle it.
My brothers… and Riley.