35. Dante
I’m still thinkingabout the shit that went down at Frank Sutton’s place as I finish getting ready in my room the next morning. I can’t think of a single thing we missed at the scene, but my gut still says there was something to find, and that West Point found it before they took Sutton out.
I pause as I strap on the holster I always wear inside my pants. No one’s gonna miss that piece of shit, but it still gutted me to see what his death did to Riley. And not gonna lie, it also surprised the shit out of me that Logan stepped up when she broke down.
But maybe it shouldn’t have.
Not knowing what I do—which isn’t all the details, but it’s enough—about his past.
I shake off those thoughts and finish tucking my weapon into the holster, but now that Logan’s on my mind, I think about the other thing that surprised me.
Coming up the stairs after Madd and I finished handling our business, there was no mistaking the sounds I heard coming from Riley’s room, and my cock reacts now just like it did last night.
I’ve never known Logan to develop feelings for a woman before. It’s not just that he doesn’t have much use for them, it’s that he’s got a soul-deep distrust for the entire gender, and it bleeds over into everything. Everything except Riley. She’s gotten under all of our skins, and I’d be lying if I said that knowing my brothers have been just as affected as I am doesn’t feel all kinds of right.
Hearing her moan for Logan last night was hot as fuck.
I palm myself through my jeans. If I had a do-over, I might have snuck in there to watch. But I know now ain’t the time—not with West Point on the move, potentially with a lead we don’t have—so I ignore how interested my dick is in picturing Riley falling apart for my brother, and head downstairs.
Logan’s already there, sitting at the counter with the kitchen pristine and his standard boring-ass breakfast of an egg-white-and-spinach omelet with whole grain toast, as cool and controlled as ever.
“Morning,” he greets me, not a single blond hair out of place or any other sign that he fucked our girl hard last night.
Or did he?
Shit, now I’m back to imagining all sorts of options I wouldn’t have minded having a front-row seat for last night.
I grin at him, heading for the coffee. “Good morning after a good night, yeah?”
Logan pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth, giving me a flat look devoid of all emotion.
I laugh, not buying it, but don’t push it. He’s got a complicated relationship with his emotions, and even though it turns me on to think about the two of them together, I can be patient and wait to see how that shit unfolds and what it might mean for me and my brothers in a longer term scenario.
I turn back to the coffee machine and change the subject, filling him in on some of the steps Madd and I took last night to make sure we get ahead of McKenna’s people. It doesn’t surprise me that Logan’s already brought himself up to speed on most of this, but we toss a few ideas back and forth as he finishes eating.
After a bit, I hear footsteps on the stairs. Too light to be Maddoc’s, so I grab a second mug from the cupboard and start doctoring a coffee the way I know our girl likes it.
“You think we should lean on the Scorpions?” I ask Logan, stirring in the sugar as Riley finally stumbles into the kitchen.
He doesn’t acknowledge her, just looks off into the distance for a moment before giving me a sharp nod.
“Miguel has no love for West Point.”
The small-time gang in the east end of the city isn’t an ally, but Logan’s right about the rocky history between their leader and McKenna. Even better, the Scorpions make most of their money by running a stable of cheap whores. Even if none of Miguel’s girls have seen Chloe, they might have heard talk from some of their johns.
“How are you doing this morning, princess?” I ask softly, handing her coffee to her as Logan starts tapping away on his phone, no doubt following through on my suggestion to put some pressure on the Scorpions.
Riley gives me a wan smile as she takes the mug, sipping it instead of answering me.
She looks fucking wrecked. Gorgeous, as per always of course, but tired and as if her spirit’s been shredded by everything that went down yesterday.
I glance at Logan, but he shows no outward sign that he connected with her last night. He’s also not being cold to her though, so that’s something.
“Breakfast?” he asks as he stands and brings his dishes to the sink, not making eye contact with either of us.
It’s not clear whether he’s asking me or Riley, but when she gives a subtle shake to her head, he drops it, so I guess that answers that.
She stands at the counter silently drinking her coffee as Logan and I go over a few more logistics, but not gonna lie, my mind isn’t a hundred percent on it now. Watching the two of them dance around each other takes a chunk out of my attention, and if Riley wasn’t feeling so obviously ragged still, I’d be enjoying the silent drama as each pointedly fails to acknowledge the other.
Something’s there, simmering in the air between them, and I wonder how long it will take before they both admit it.
As for me, I’m done pretending I’m not all-in with Riley. She’s the most amazing woman I know, and it kills me a little to see the toll all this shit is taking on her.
“More coffee?” I ask as she stares down into her empty mug.
“No,” she says, not moving. She still seems a bit numb, but thankfully not as fucking catatonic as she was yesterday.
I take the mug out of her hands and set it onto the counter, pulling her into my arms. She doesn’t resist, and when I bury my face in her hair and breathe in that spice-and-smoke scent I’m already fucking addicted to, she wraps her arms around me.
“This isn’t over yet,” I promise, liking the way she clings to me more than I’ll ever admit.
Logan meets my eyes over the top of her head, the look a silent vow that he’s backing that statement up. He turns away to take her mug to the sink as Maddoc comes in.
“We need to go over plans for the day,” Madd says in lieu of a greeting, his eyes skating over Riley with a depth of worry I’d be shocked if he let himself voice aloud.
Something unexpected warms inside me at the solidarity I feel with my brothers upon seeing that. Logan, Maddoc, and I have a bond that goes deeper than any I’d imagined ever finding anywhere else in this life, but with Riley as a touchstone for all of us, what was already solid becomes something even more.
Riley stays pressed against me as Logan brings both of us up to speed on a few things, including a reply he got from the Scorpions.
“Miguel doesn’t have anything on Chloe,” he says. The mention of her sister’s name makes Riley tense in my arms as he adds, “But he’s making some noise about the warehouse fire that went down on Grandview the other day.”
Maddoc makes a note of it. Finding Chloe is our priority, but that doesn’t mean we can let the rest of our business slide. I frankly don’t know what the fuck we’re gonna do now that Madd’s taken the girl’s inheritance off the table. I don’t disagree, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re going to have to find another way to put McKenna and his people down for good.
But first things first. I can tell Riley’s following the conversation even though she doesn’t participate, and we strategize some options we haven’t exercised yet on putting pressure on some key players for more information. With Sutton taken out and all that implies, we need to go flat out to get ahead of McKenna’s crew on this.
Halfway through our planning situation, Maddoc gets a call. I see Shae’s name on his screen before he swipes to accept the call. Shae is one of the gang members we assigned to keep an eye on West Point last night, and after sharing a pointed glance with me and Logan, Maddoc throws it on speaker.
“Got something, boss,” Shae says, the sound of traffic behind him. “Those weasels you put me on last night are on the move.”
“Are you still near Falls Court?” Maddoc asks, naming a section of the city where territory is contested.
“Yeah,” Shae says, confirming it. “They’ve got no legit reason to have so many of their crew here, and there’s too much sudden activity to be business. Something’s going down.”
“Does it have to do with my sister?” Riley blurts, finally stirring to attention.
The phone goes silent. I know Shae doesn’t recognize Riley’s voice or trust that he can disclose Reaper business in front of her, but Maddoc sets him straight.
“Report, Shae. Are they going after Chloe?”
“I’ve heard some noise, yeah,” Shae answers slowly. “Sounds like West Point has a new lead on where she’s been holed up. They’re on the move now, headed over to the Rand District.” Maddoc’s phone beeps. “Just sent you the cross streets they mentioned, boss. I don’t know that area well—”
“A lot of abandoned buildings there,” Logan murmurs, tapping away at his own phone and no doubt making it give up secrets the rest of us would never manage to pull out of the ethers.
“Have you got eyes on them now?” Maddoc asks as the background sounds change, becoming muffled.
Shae must have gotten in his car.
“Yeah,” he confirms.
“Good. Stay on them.” Maddoc points toward the garage, giving me the signal to gear up and prepare to move as he pulls a few more details out of Shae.
I nod, then snag the keys to the Escalade, pulling Riley along with me.
“Come on, princess,” I murmur, knowing there’s no way she’ll want to be left behind even though she’s not at a hundred percent.
Logan and Maddoc follow, and the three of us grab some additional firepower from one of the locked cabinets we keep in the garage before piling into the Escalade. I drive with Madd in the passenger seat keeping Shae on the line to report on the weasels he’s following. Riley gets in the back with Logan without a word.
I think about arming her for a hot second, but I don’t know her capability and she doesn’t ask. In the future, we may have to change that, but for now, speed is the most important factor.
“My bet is on 1041 Terrace Way,” Logan says from the back seat as we approach the Rand District, a rundown mix of abandoned commercial buildings and state run housing. “The locals—” a minor gang with a chop shop, if I remember correctly, “—keep running squatters out of it, but if Chloe was looking for a place to hole up and stay out of sight, it’s a contender.”
“I’m following those shitheads down Alameda Avenue right now,” Shae’s voice comes through from Maddoc’s phone. “Does that track?”
“Yes.” Logan’s voice is clipped. “It intersects with Terrace Way and gives them access to the back of the building.”
“Get there first,” Madd says to me grimly.
I nod and push the Escalade a little faster, pulling up to the building in question as two silver Lincoln Navigators with blacked out windows screech to a halt from the other direction, coming from Alameda.
West Point. And Shae’s low-slung muscle car thunders up right after them.
“Go, Logan,” Maddoc says tightly.
Logan slides out the back passenger door, the body of the Escalade shielding him from West Point’s view. I don’t watch how he gets into the building, but if that’s where Chloe’s been squatting, I trust him to get in and get her out—or find any clues she left behind—while we take care of business out here.
“Stay in the car,” I tell Riley as Maddoc and I pile out and face off with McKenna’s people.
She doesn’t listen, but at least she has enough self-preservation instincts to stay behind Madd and I as Austin McKenna steps out of one of the Navigators. That bitch Sienna follows him, draping herself over his back as she sneers at Maddoc.
“This isn’t Reaper territory,” Austin says, spitting on the ground as his people spread out behind him.
Shae had a couple of our crew in the car with him, and they fan out behind the weasels as Maddoc stares McKenna down, ignoring Sienna.
“It’s not West Point’s territory either,” Madd says, his voice deceptively calm over a core of steel. “And neither is Whitton.”
Frank Sutton’s neighborhood.
McKenna’s eyes narrow, but then he smiles, the expression sadistic and cruel. “No clue what you’re talking about. We don’t do business in Whitton.” His eyes flick toward Riley. “That area is… dead.”
Riley makes a low, furious sound behind me, and McKenna’s eyes snap her way.
“Clear the fuck out,” Maddoc says coldly, moving to block McKenna’s view of Riley and giving the fucker a chance he doesn’t deserve to avoid this turning ugly. “The Six won’t be happy with how this goes down if you don’t.”
“We have business here,” McKenna says, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you want to get in the way of that business the way you did before, that’s on you. You cost me something in the warehouse district a couple of weeks ago. I’m here to get back what’s mine.”
“My sister doesn’t belong to you!”
I grab Riley’s arm before she does something stupid, just as Logan materializes next to us, moving like a shadow in the sun.
He’s alone.
When Maddoc shoots him a hard look, he gives his head a subtle shake.
“The tip was good. She’s been here. But she’s cleared out,” he murmurs under his breath. “Signs point to an extended stay.”
McKenna overhears. “Search the fucking building,” he shouts at his men, his face mottling with rage as he makes no pretense at all that they aren’t here for Chloe too.
“I wouldn’t follow that order,” Shae says, cocking a gun behind them.
That sound is all it takes for every fucker standing to draw their weapons, including me and my brothers.
“Get the fuck behind me,” I bite out, jerking my chin at Riley.
She still looks like she wants to lay into McKenna, but she obeys, which lets me focus. With Shae and his backup surrounding McKenna’s men, we’re evenly matched in manpower, but since one Reaper is worth a half dozen weasels any day, we’ve still got the advantage as far as I’m concerned.
But Madd is right that we’ll get exactly the kind of attention The Six warned us off from if this shit escalates.
There’s no fucking way we’ll be the ones to back down first, though.
“You want to see your crew’s blood on every street in Halston?” McKenna asks with a manic gleam in his eye, making a pointed reference to Payton’s death. “Because I’m happy to oblige. This shit hole would look a hell of a lot better painted in Reaper red.”
Madd takes the safety off the Glock he’s holding, raising it to aim between McKenna’s eyes. “If you want to see blood, that can be arranged. Not that the view will be great with nine millimeters of metal buried in your skull.”
McKenna licks his lips. “You’ve been doing a lot of burying lately, isn’t that right?”
“What the fuck did you say?” Madd asks in a low, furious voice.
McKenna smiles, his own weapon never wavering. “You’re welcome. But the way you’ve made my men work so hard, putting the job of thinning your herd on our shoulders? They deserve a reward for that. I think I’ll give it to them in the form of some quality time with that hot little number we’re here to collect. The young ones are always so… sweet.”
Riley makes an inarticulate sound of rage.
“Riley,” Maddoc snaps as half a dozen weapons swing around to point at her.
My brothers realize the same thing I do. Hearing that fuckhead threatening her sister like that could set her off.
Maddoc and I both move, but Logan moves faster. His arm lashes out, wrapping around Riley’s waist and hauling her back against him as he swings them both around, his body providing her cover as the tension that was already at the snapping point comes to a head between one breath and the next.
McKenna cackles, a sound of unholy glee, and the sound of even more weapons being drawn and cocked echoes loud in the empty waste of a street. It’s a sound that triggers the craving for blood to be spilled. It boils hot in my veins as Shae and his crew spit curses and scramble from their defensive stances, becoming an active threat.
West Point’s players mirror it, and all my senses sharpen, my focus narrowing as I instinctively prepare to fight.
If anyone so much as twitches, it’s gonna turn into a goddamn blood bath, and part of me wants that with a ferocity that I’d give anything to unleash. But we’ve got no fucking cover and I can’t risk my brothers getting killed.
I can’t risk a bullet finding Riley… or what they’d do to her if we went down.