Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Milo hummed as he made sandwiches, savoring the delicious ache in the lower half of his body.
Warrick knotted him so well and so many times that he wasn’t sure, when they woke up this morning, if they were going to be stuck together still.
But it had been perfect, amazing. Now they were going to have everybody over for sandwiches and more, to talk about what they were going to do about this millionaire who was running the trafficking trade.
Quinn had sent a bunch of texts this morning with information, and it was time to review everything.
Milo was not allowing the nerves that were trying to settle in the pit of his belly to stay there.
Nope. He was going to have the scars from his captivity for the rest of his life, mental and physical, but he was determined to do what Warrick had said to begin with and let his bear shifter self-heal some of that.
He was capable of it. He was a magical being. He just had to let it happen.
He was slathering another set of bread with mayonnaise and mustard when his two brothers breezed in. Nolan had on a huge sweater and a pair of skinny jeans, while Race wore black cargo pants and three layers of shirts. He shook his head. He did love his brothers and their weird fashion choices.
“I’m making sandwiches. Who wants to cut up some fruit for a fruit salad?” With these two he had to put them to work before they even said a word, or Nolan would start chattering, and Race would go slump on the farthest barstool away, glaring at them both.
“I will.” Nolan cheerfully headed for the fridge to grab out the pineapple and strawberries and blueberries.
“Where are your mates?”
“Out with yours, patrolling the woods. They’ll be back in no time.”
“Good deal. There’s ham, turkey, and some tuna salad. How many do you think I should make up of each?”
“Oh, my God, tuna salad.” Race rolled his eyes. “Connal loves that shit. You’d better make a big batch of those.”
“If I remember correctly, you used to love tuna melts.”
Race bared his teeth in a feral grin. “I still do. So are you going to make me some of those?”
“If you’ll get off your ass and set up a sheet pan for me, yes.”
“Picky, picky, picky.” Race did get up off the barstool, though, and grab a sheet pan from the cabinet, lining it with parchment paper.
Milo plopped tuna onto bread before covering it with cheese. He got a little rack over the top before setting the broiler temp on the oven and putting the pan on top of the stove, waiting for the oven to heat up.
“Yum.” Race bumped hips with him. “That looks so amazing.”
“I’m sure you know how to make them.”
“Your tuna is so much better. It always was, and it’s so nice when I don’t have to make it for myself.”
“Lazy butt.”
They teased and laughed until the big alphas all showed up, wandering in all sun and wind and tousled hair. God, they were beautiful, but Warrick was the most amazing one.
War studied him for a minute and then smiled and came to put both hands on his hips, drawing him up for a kiss. “You look better, happier.”
“I think I am. I’m not magically wonderful or anything but I have decided to stop fighting the healing process.”
“Good on you.” Ryder grabbed one of the cut up slices of apple he’d put on a tray and munched on it. “We want you back among the living, Milo.”
His cheeks heated with pleasure. “I want that too. War is my mate and he deserves that.”
Warrick shook him gently. “You deserve it, love. You deserve every bit of happiness you find.”
A month ago, being shaken like that would have made him slip into a panic state, but now Warrick just made him laugh. His trust in his mate was absolute and immense.
They all sat down once the sandwiches came out of the oven and ate, the anticipation growing until finally Warrick pulled out his phone and thumbed open the texts from Quinn.
“Okay, so I have a list of public appearances that this guy is going to make. We have a list of contacts who work inside his organization who are willing to be whistleblowers. And we have some personal information about where he goes when he slips his security.”
Milo’s eyebrows flew up. “No kidding? That’s a lot of information.”
“Quinn has good people.” Warrick shrugged that off. “What we have to decide is what’s possible for us. Now, we have Quinn’s brothers to use as resources. They’re both exceedingly wealthy, and they travel in those sort of circles, so they can help us with the access.”
“Quinn’s mate worked security, so he could possibly get one of us in as a new bodyguard or something.”
“No way.” Milo put a hand up at that to ward the suggestion off.
“None of you are going to become martyrs to this cause, and you would if you got that close. There’s no way you would get out if you took on a millionaire on his home turf like that.
It needs to be out someplace where he’s vulnerable. ”
“Then in that case we need to figure out which one of these locations where he goes without most of his security force is our best bet.” Connal tapped the table with his fingertips.
Warrick studied all of the information in front of them, his eyes moving quickly, his brain moving even quicker. Milo could kind of hear it and the thought process was stunning.
Finally, Warrick nodded decisively. “Okay, I think I have it. The most vulnerable he is all week is at the poker game. It’s with a bunch of other powerful men, but they don’t want their bodyguards and associates in the same room with them.
It tells me that they’re doing business at the same time, probably the kind of business we want to interrupt. ”
“Do we send someone into the poker game?” Ryder asked.
“No, but we pretend that’s what we’re trying to do.
Quinn’s brother owns a huge multi-million-dollar company that runs a dating service.
Now, if anybody looks too closely at him, they know he’s a crusader for omega rights, but he can go into the underground club where they meet, waving a bunch of money around and saying he wants to join the game. That will be our distraction.”
Race snapped his fingers, grinning. “That will be the distraction; you’re right. That way we can get into the back room and block it off and deal with all of those assholes who are running this organization.”
Milo tilted his head one direction then the other, pondering all of the variables of that. “How many more people are we going to have? Our source said we couldn’t trust the police. Not even the task force that’s been created to deal with this.”
“We can’t, but Quinn and Tiago have an entire selection of bikers at their discretion, and Quinn’s brothers know even more people who are trustworthy and willing to help. I know they both have private security forces they deal with.” Warrick gave him a hard bright grin. “This is our best chance.”
“And you’re looking forward to it,” Milo accused.
“I am. I could kill them for hurting you the way they did. I’ll settle for them going to jail, but it will have to be through the feds. Not that there’s not corruption there, too, but if we got someone young and ambitious from the local FBI office, it would be quite a collar.”
“Okay, so we just need to coordinate. Nolan, can you get a hold of Quinn and tell him to call in his brothers?” Ryder started scribbling a list. “I’ll get a hold of the bikers. We know most of them anyway.”
Race inclined his head. “And I know quite a few ex-security people. They didn’t work out so much working for big firms, but they still hire out for good cause.”
“We’re going to need enough people to make a perimeter to cut off both exits to keep any bodyguards out of the room where the poker game is being held and keep all of the assholes who are in that room in it.
” Milo drew a diagram on one of the notebooks lying on the table.
He knew what kind of security these guys would have.
They would be good as far as weaponry and following orders, but they wouldn’t be smart, and they wouldn’t be independent thinkers.
Guys like this didn’t hire people who could think on their own because they wanted absolute power. Milo had seen their underlings firsthand.
“My so smart mate.” Warrick gave him a pleased grin. “We have a date. We have a plan. We all know what we need to do. Can we finish eating now? My second tuna melt is getting cold.”
“Hell, yes.” Ryder grabbed another sandwich, and Con stuffed his mouth with some kind of fruit. He, Nolan, and Race just looked at each other and shook their heads. Alphas were such big babies.
But they sure were pretty to look at.