33 TOBIAS
The house smells like coffee and something sweet as Julian and I walk through the door. My eyes scan the kitchen, finding Corey leaning against the counter, a mug in his hand. The sound of running water echoes from upstairs.
"She’s in the shower," Corey says, answering my unspoken question. I hadn't realized I was looking for her until he mentioned it.
"Found some interesting shit at The Cherry Pit," Julian drops into a chair at the kitchen island. "That place is a cesspool compared to ours."
"Coffee's fresh." Corey slides two mugs our way. "What'd you learn?"
I take a long drink, letting the warmth spread through my chest.
"Seems that some of the suits don’t like that you’re running such a civilized operation. They arent happy with losing money."
"What the fuck." Corey's knuckles whiten around his mug.
"Gets better," Julian leans forward. "Apparently we're not playing fair. Rigging shit."
"Those fuckers wouldn't know fair if it bit them in the ass." I set my mug down harder than intended.
“They’re determined to bring us down, and they’re not above making things more personal.” "Keep your voice down," Corey glances toward the ceiling where water still runs. "Rhea doesn't need to hear this part."
"Speaking of hearing things," Julian's mouth quirks up. "The suits were talking about our new bartender."
The coffee turns bitter in my mouth. Corey's expression darkens, and I know we're thinking the same thing - this isn't just business anymore.
"We need to handle this," I say, my voice low. "Before it gets worse."
The water upstairs shuts off. Corey straightens, his face smoothing into its usual calm mask.
"We should all head to the bar tonight," Corey says, setting his mug in the sink. "Keep eyes on everything."
Julian nods. "I'll work the bar with Rhea, mix with the regulars.
See what else I can dig up."
"And I'll-" I start, but footsteps on the stairs cut me off.
Rhea descends, her wild-highlighted hair still damp from the shower, wearing tiny shorts and one of Corey’s t shirts. My throat goes dry. She's fucking stunning - the kind of beauty that makes you forget what you were saying.
"You'll what?" She reaches the bottom step, green eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Were you guys planning something without me?"
"Just discussing tonight's setup at the bar," Julian says smoothly.
She leans against the banister, crossing her arms. "You baffoons are gonna let me work right? What did you find out at The Pit? Any leads on who's been causing trouble?"
I exchange glances with Corey and Julian. Her eagerness to help, to fight back, it's admirable - and dangerous.
"Easy there, vigilante," Corey chuckles. "We'll fill you in later.
Right now, you need to get ready for work."
"Vigilante?" She arches an eyebrow. "I prefer 'justice seeker', thank you very much."
"Whatever you say, Batman," Julian teases, earning him a playful swat as Rhea passes by.
She grabs an apple from the fruit bowl, taking a bite. "Fine, keep your secrets. But don't think I won't figure it out eventually."
"We're counting on it," I say quietly, watching her disappear back upstairs.
T he first thing I notice as we pull into the parking lot is the glint of broken glass catching our headlights. My jaw clenches as I take in the shattered front window of the bar, jagged edges still clinging to the frame like broken teeth.
"Son of a bitch," Julian mutters from the passenger seat.
Corey's already out of his car, moving toward the building with controlled fury in every step. Red paint drips down the brick facade, spelling out "WATCH YOUR BACK" in messy, angry strokes.
Rhea steps out of Corey's car, her face pale in the streetlight.
"Fuck, this is getting serious, isn’t it?"
"Yeah," I say, scanning the shadows of the parking lot. "This is personal."
Julian pulls out his phone, already dialing. "I'll get Titus out here to board up the window tonight."
"We should check inside, Rhea, beside Tobias at all times." Corey orders, unlocking the front door. Glass crunches under our feet as we enter.
“Yes boss,” she mocks salutes. How Corey hasn’t taken her over his knee yet for her attitude I have no idea. Hell, maybe he has. He does seem awfully chill despite the situation at hand.
The interior looks untouched, but I'm not taking chances. I move through the space methodically, checking every corner, behind the bar, in the storage room. Nothing's disturbed.
"They wanted us to see it," I say when I return to the others. "This was about sending a message."
"Vasquez," Julian spits the name like poison.
Rhea's head snaps up. "Who's Vasquez?"
"Nobody you need to worry about," Corey says quickly, but she's not having it.
"Bullshit. My apartment got trashed, I'm living in your house, and now this?" She gestures at the broken window. "I think I've earned some answers."
I catch Corey's eye. She's right - keeping her in the dark isn't protecting her anymore.
"Vasquez used to organize fights for us," I explain. "Until he got money hungry and we banned him. Now he's working with some dangerous people."
"And he's trying to what - scare us?" Rhea asks.
"More like provoke us," Julian says, still examining the graffiti.
"He wants us to make a mistake."