Chapter Thirteen
Jade
By the time Kane’s alarm went off, I’d dozed a little, curled against his side, listening to his heartbeat. My sleep had been disrupted a few times by nightmares. I wondered if I’d have happy dreams again in the future. For now, I didn’t see it happening anytime soon.
He rolled over, flopped the phone face down on the nightstand, and kissed my shoulder.
“Good morning,” he rasped.
“Define ‘good.’”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “You dream?”
“Yeah. Nothing happy.”
He brushed hair away from my face, eyes searching. “Scale of one to ten? One being ‘fine, stop fussing’ and ten being ‘hide me in the safe room and throw away the key.’”
“Six,” I replied. “Maybe a seven.”
“Functional but cranky,” he translated. “I can work with that.”
He kissed me again, longer, until some of the tightness in my chest eased. “Spade’s going to drag you to the office at some point. He’s been in his cave since yesterday. Barely came up for dinner.”
“He eat?” I asked.
“Marci said she shoved a plate at him and threatened bodily harm if he didn’t,” Kane said. “So… probably.”
“Then yeah. He’ll come hunting for his favorite cyborg.”
“You’re not a robot,” Kane muttered.
We rolled out of bed and got dressed. I pulled on jeans and one of my T-shirts. Kane tugged his cut on over a black long-sleeved shirt. The leather settled across his shoulders, making something warm and stupid bloom in my chest.
He caught my gaze in the mirror. “You staring again?”
“Maybe,” I admitted.
“You’re allowed.” A smile played at his mouth.
Heat crept up my neck. How could a smile turn me on? Then again, I loved everything about Kane.
He reached for my hand. “You ready?”
“No,” I replied honestly. “But I’m going anyway.”
“Good,” he said.
* * *
Coffee and bacon scented the clubhouse air.
From the TV room came children’s voices mixed with a cartoon theme song -- some mystery show with a talking dog. The familiar noise wrapped around me, soothing my frayed nerves.
“Morning.” Casey flipped eggs at the counter, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun.
Across from her, Marci filled plastic cups with orange juice, frowning until a small boy slid past in sock feet.
Without even glancing up, she snagged his shirt mid-tumble, righted him, and continued her pouring as though catching falling children ranked among her everyday skills.
“You both slept more than Spade. Congrats.”
“Has he been up all night?” I asked.
“Came through for coffee twice. Might have gone horizontal for a bit, but he would’ve snuck past me. I’ll smack him later.”
“I’d pay to see that,” Kane said.
She pointed a spatula at him. “You’ll meet the business end of this if you don’t grab plates and help.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, fighting a smile.
I slid into my usual seat at the big table. The wood felt familiar under my palms now. During my first week, I’d perched on the edge of the chair, waiting for someone to tell me I didn’t belong. Now, even with my nerves buzzing, the seat belonged to me.
Casey dropped a plate in front of me. Eggs, bacon, toast. “Eat. Your brain woke you up too early.”
“It did,” I agreed. “We’re fighting.”
“You or the brain?” she asked.
“Both.”
She squeezed my shoulder and moved on.
I forked up eggs and forced myself to eat. My stomach tried to argue. My logic told it to shut up. Spade couldn’t use me if I fainted in his office.
Across the room, a voice called out, “Jade?”
I looked up. The guy from the doorway. The one who’d bitched about lockdown being “for one girl.” He hovered near the edge of the room now, hands stuffed in his pockets, expression tight. I stiffened, shoulders going up.
Kane noticed. His hand slid under the table to rest on my thigh, thumb drawing lazy circles like he was petting a startled animal. “You want me to make him disappear?” he asked under his breath.
“No,” I said. “He gets to talk. Unless he says something stupid. Then you can break his nose.”
“Deal,” he said.
The guy walked over, stopping three feet away from me, measuring the space between us. “Prez said I should… talk to you,” he mumbled, eyes darting around.
“Did he send you to apologize? Or did you volunteer?” I asked.
Color crawled up his neck. “A bit of both. General tore into me. I deserved every word.”
I stared at him. Waited. Watched him squirm.
“Being locked down made me angry. The kids went stir-crazy. The old ladies stressed out. I couldn’t run my usual routes or spend time at my place in town. So I ran my mouth when I shouldn’t have. Said awful shit about you I had no right to say. You heard me. The blame falls on me.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “The blame does.”
He took a breath. “I’m sorry. I behaved terribly. You never asked for this situation. I know all this. For a minute, I forgot and treated you as a problem instead of a person. That was a mistake that won’t happen again.”
The apology landed heavier than I expected. He didn’t make excuses. Didn’t say I misunderstood. Just put his mess on the table and owned it.
My throat felt tight. “Thank you. For saying it.”
He shifted. “Word is you had the kids down in the basement like a drill sergeant yesterday. Casey said they listened to you better than they do to some of us.”
“Fear is a hell of a motivator. And Casey told them there would be cookies after, so…”
He nodded and walked off.
Kane’s thumb continued moving against my leg. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “The apology felt… good. Weird. But good.”
“Even assholes can grow. But I still want to punch him.”
“I know.” I squeezed his hand. “I appreciate your protective streak.”
* * *
Spade appeared before I finished my second cup of coffee, looking worse than before.
His hair stuck up in all directions. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, making them seem sunken into his skull.
A half-zipped hoodie revealed a T-shirt with “SOMEONE ASKED FOR CHAOS” in peeling letters across the chest.
“Jade,” he said. “I need your brain.”
Kane made a low, disgruntled noise beside me. “You need her surrounded by carbs first.” He crossed his arms. “She already ate but grab her a cinnamon roll or something before you start waving maps around.”
Spade rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He gestured toward the hallway. “Bring your cinnamon roll apparatus to the office.”
“The office resembles a cave,” I muttered.
A grin spread across his face. “Dragons prefer caves.”
“Are you calling yourself a dragon?” Kane asked.
“Obviously,” Spade said. “Come on, Jade. Diaz doesn’t nap.”
I grabbed a cinnamon roll off the plate Marci had set near the coffee pot and followed him.
Kane’s hand brushed my hip as I passed. “You holler if he pushes too hard.”
I said, “Yes, sir,” with enough mockery in my tone to make Kane’s mouth twitch.
Spade marched down the hall to the office while I followed.
The room had transformed since my last visit.
Maps wallpapered every surface from floor to ceiling.
City grids stretched across one wall, county lines dominated another, and pieces of the state with highlighted routes filled the remaining space.
Photos hung beside scribbled addresses. Red, blue, and yellow strings connected seemingly random dots across the geography, creating a web of connections I couldn’t yet decipher.
Except this wasn’t paranoia. This was Diaz’s world. And Spade had mapped it.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
“Pretty, right?” Spade said, shutting the door behind us.
“Pretty isn’t the word I’d use.”
Lines in different colors marked roads and connections. Little sticky notes labeled certain points: WAREHOUSE A, PORT EAST, MILK MONEY, SNAKE DEN.
Names I recognized from Jason’s notes had tiny stars beside them.
Others I’d never seen stood out under the harsh overhead light.
On one wall, a separate cluster of notes and photos sat under the heading: DIAZ -- INNER CIRCLE.
Roth’s picture had an X over it now. Victor’s sat next to it, cigarette dangling from his fingers, that smirk I hated so much on full display.
A woman’s photo pinned below them squeezed my chest tight.
Dark hair framed sharp cheekbones. Her eyes held the wary gaze of someone who’d witnessed too many betrayals to believe promises anymore.
Elena, I thought. Next to her, a smaller picture -- school photo style -- of a girl missing her two front teeth. Sofia.
Spade followed my gaze. “You mad I put them up?” he asked.
“No,” I said quietly. “She deserves to be seen.”
He nodded once. He moved to his desk and dropped into his chair.
“Okay, here’s what we’ve got. Between Jason’s drive and Roth singing for his supper, we know Diaz’s structure around here.
This.” He swiveled and pointed at a cluster of lines.
“These are his main import routes through this state. Product comes in on those roads. This.” Another cluster.
“Is how he moves cash. Laundromats. Fake construction companies. A church charity that doesn’t know half of what goes through its hands. ”
“You’re telling me a church washes his money?” I asked.
“Church board might not know,” Spade said. “He uses a shell company to funnel donations. Nice people think they’re feeding kids in another country. Meanwhile, Diaz pays port bribes. You see the game.”
My stomach turned.
Spade pointed at a short line with three points on it. “See this? The part matters most to us. The piece touching our roads. Our town.”
I leaned closer to the map. “Can you block him off completely?”
“Not overnight.” Spade ran a hand through his already messy hair.
“Blowing up trucks and torching warehouses would only push him to brute-force his way around. He’d hit us and the town harder.
” He lowered his voice. “We need subtlety first. Bleed him slowly. Make him appear weak to his own men. Force him to scramble.”
“How?” I asked.