Chapter 18
Everyone was waiting at the Shadow Industries office by the time I finally got there. Clothes only mostly dry, with my wife by my side.
Briggs’ eyebrow ticked up slightly when he saw Mallory—the only show of surprise he let slip—before he bent back over the large conference room table. But I didn’t miss the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth as he tapped on his tablet.
Passing my fingers over Mallory’s in a move that no one else could see, I felt the corners of my own mouth tip up at her stuttered inhale before we parted ways to take our usual seats on opposite sides of the table.
“Donut in Amber?” Briggs asked without ever looking up from his tablet.
A grunt of acknowledgment built in my chest. “My cousin’s wife owns a coffee shop and bar. One of her managers claims she’s being stalked by a guy who lives in her building.”
As soon as the information left me, my pulse faltered when I thought back to earlier that day—to a moment I’d wanted no part in and had panicked over. Because Tessa launching herself at me had the potential to make a bad situation so much worse. And it nearly had.
But now I couldn’t get the way Tessa looked out of my head.
Her dulled stare that was usually bright with heated interest. The deep shadows under her eyes, showing how little she’d been sleeping. The hollowness of her cheeks.
My stomach dropped when I vaguely recalled her panic slipping in as she’d gripped at me again. Only now, I couldn’t remember if it’d been in the same, playful way she always reached for me, or if there’d been a pleading fear behind her touch.
Rush nudged me, forcing my attention to him before it automatically shot to the woman directly across from me. Mallory’s brow was furrowed as she studied me, at once trying to figure out where my head was and clearly trying to battle insecurities I’d forced on her.
“Do you think there’s validity to the claim?” Briggs asked in a way that let me know I’d missed the first time he’d asked the question.
“I didn’t,” I admitted, then swallowed thickly.
“I don’t think anyone did. Even though my cousin’s wife is the one claiming it’s really happening, I’m fairly certain she’s still on the fence about it, because Tes—” I cleared my throat.
“The victim’s story isn’t totally adding up.
When I got all the information from my cousin before I left, even he felt like it was pointless. ”
When I glanced at Briggs, he was silently watching me, waiting for me to continue.
“But I saw the victim today. I dismissed her at first, but I just remembered the way she looked.” My head lowered in affirmation. “She’s clearly haunted by something.”
Briggs nodded slowly before giving me a look like his hands were tied. “Are your cousins capable?”
“More than.”
He tipped his head at me. “Then tell them to start watching her immediately because this”—he waved a hand over his tablet—“needs all our attention.”
With a glance between Mallory and me, he sighed and straightened to fold his arms over his chest. “Monroe and Gray, you’ll get the information when you get back to your tablets.
Everyone else should have it by now. ARCK called earlier to inform me there was a situation in Dallas they’d caught wind of.
It needs to be taken care of immediately, but, and I quote, ‘it isn’t worth the trip if Shadow can manage to handle it. ’”
“Should we be insulted?” Thatch asked as he glanced up from his tablet.
A rumble of acknowledgment built in Briggs’ chest. With a slight slant of his head, he muttered, “Makes you wonder why our stuff has been worth the trip to them, if this isn’t.”
Rush stopped tapping the end of his stylus almost as quickly as he began to offer, “Maybe they were playing the long game. We’re indebted to them now—they can use us.”
Briggs grunted, a look passing over his face that showed just how much he hated the idea of being indebted to anyone, especially a notorious mafia family.
I glanced at Mallory before saying, “Well, if someone wants to clue Monroe and me in on what we’re up against, that’d be great.”
“Mafia-run club. High-end,” Evans answered.
“They also run drugs, weapons, and women through there.” It was all said in that same irritable tone he’d used ever since finding out his police-officer dad was working for the mafia here in Dallas, long before he’d been killed by the members of ARCK for one of those exact reasons—sex trafficking.
“And it’s here?” Mallory confirmed, her blue eyes shifting to Evans before meeting mine.
I didn’t need to be in her head to know she was worried about Evans—worried to ask if it was related to the same family the Evanses had been helping for generations. I had a feeling we all were.
“It isn’t Wrecker run,” Briggs cut in, already knowing where she was going with her question.
With a brief glance in Evans’ direction, he exhaled quickly.
“At least, it isn’t outwardly Wrecker run.
However, from what ARCK is saying, clubs like this don’t pop up this quickly or this successfully unless they have experience and pull in the area. ”
“Which means Wreckers,” Rush mumbled as he took notes on whatever Briggs had sent.
“Right,” Briggs confirmed. “ARCK said this is a newly formed family of leftovers from areas throughout the central and eastern United States. Maverick stated multiple times that leftovers doesn’t mean these people aren’t extremely dangerous.
If anything, it might make them even more dangerous because they were able to escape what the rest of their families couldn’t. ”
“And would our friends happen to have had anything to do with whatever tragic endings those families met?” At my wry question, Thatch pointed at me, as if to second it.
Briggs slanted his head and muttered, “They didn’t mention it.
” The corner of his mouth twitched in a way that could’ve easily been amusement or unease, given the guy making the expression.
“But I got the impression. Regardless, ARCK thinks—and I agree—the Wreckers are allowing this on their territory for a reason.
“The timing of this is too coincidental,” he continued.
“This club started just a few months after our last interaction with the Wreckers, and it’s a good way for them to get away with things while still lying low to stay off ARCK’s radar.
Even though it looks like they don’t have anything to do with the club, they could’ve been the ones to get it rolling.
They might’ve even created the new family. ”
“So, those ARCK guys aren’t as scary as they think they are,” Evans stated dully.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s it,” Briggs said, sparing a long, slightly worried look at the youngest member of our team.
“It’s like with dogs. When the alpha makes itself known, the other might try one last attempt at challenging him, but that dog’s still going to be hesitant and cowering while it does it. ”
“Alphas,” left Thatch on a scoff. “I still think we can take them.”
Briggs slanted an irritated look his way. “That isn’t what this is about.”
“Am I wrong?” Thatch challenged.
Briggs had been about to continue, but exhaled slowly instead. Tapping a finger on the table a few times, he shifted his hand to his tablet before relenting, “No.”
Thatch smirked proudly just as Rush added, “There aren’t many people who can best us,” in a solemn tone, “the world knows that. But this is the mafia we’re talking about and dealing with. Where the scales tip in their favor is their lack of morals.”
“Exactly,” Briggs easily took over for him. “So, again, it isn’t about whether we can take the family every other mafia family is afraid of—there’s no question about that. It’s that we can’t get too confident in who we are and what we can do because we don’t work the same way any of them do.
“Now,” he went on without giving anyone a chance to respond, “ARCK sent a lot of information that I honestly don’t wanna know how they got.
” But even as Briggs said the words—even with all that talk about lack of morals—a whisper of amusement and respect flashed across his face.
“Rush and Thatch, study the blueprints for the club until you can get in and out in your sleep.”
Thatch clapped his hands and lowered his feet from where they’d been propped up on the table. Rush didn’t stop nodding or writing.
“Evans and I will start wading through the information on the known members of the family, and figure out their method for acquiring and distributing everything they’re trafficking—starting with women,” Briggs continued, then waited for Evans to nod. With a sigh, he glanced from Mallory to me.
And I stilled.
Because I knew that look he was giving me, like he was preparing himself for my reaction to what he’d say next.
“Monroe, it’s a good thing you decided to come back,” Briggs muttered without taking his stare off me. “Because the members of this new family are all men.”
“No,” I said vehemently.
Stunned offense burst from the woman across from me at my refusal. “Excuse me?”
“She just needs to get one talking,” Briggs added, nearly forcing me from my seat. “We need to know where they’re keeping the women they’re trafficking.”
Rage and fear burned through me in an instant. “No.”
“You’ll be going in as backup. You’ll be able to pull her out if things go south,” Briggs said to pacify me, as if that could when he was sending her in to do who knew what with mafia—new, unfamiliar mafia.
My stare snapped to Mallory. “Absolutely not.”
“And why not?” she demanded, looking outraged that I’d even think to argue against this. And I hated that I couldn’t even revel in the fact that the Mallory everyone knew was back because I was so consumed by the horrifying thought Briggs had just forced onto me.