Page 145 of Carrick
Niko’s jaw ticked. “Have you contacted him?”
“No.”
“Has he contacted you?”
“Not yet.”
“So we’re sitting on an unsecured line to a potential criminal asset and hoping he doesn’t screw us.”
“It’s more than hope,” I said. “I’ve got the number. I can monitor incoming signals. I can control the contact.”
“You think you can,” Jax muttered. “But that line has existed outside the op since you gave it to him. You can’t guarantee shit anymore.”
Sully was pacing now. “Jesus, Carrick. What the hell were you thinking?”
I didn’t answer right away. Because if I said what I was really thinking—that I did it for Bellamy, not the mission—they’d be right to lose their goddamn minds.
Maddy pushed off the wall. “So what now? We just wait? Hope he calls before someone finds him in a ditch or he sells us out?”
“No,” I said. “We act.”
They all looked at me.
“I’m calling Quinn.”
That got another round of looks—sharp, skeptical, and unspoken in their judgment. The weight of what I’d said rippled through the room, pressing in on all sides.
“We don’t give him details over the phone,” I added before anyone could speak. “We just ask him to come out. In person. We talk, we plan, we figure out the next move together. Then we contact Rayden on our terms.”
Across the room, Sully shifted his weight and crossed his arms, his brow furrowed as he looked at me. “You really think Quinn’s going to go for this?”
I nodded, not because I was certain, but because I had to be. “I think he wants Borovsky as bad as we do. And right now, Rayden might be our only link inside—whether he wants to be or not.”
The silence that followed wasn’t long, but it was heavy. It pressed down with unspoken questions, with doubt, with things I knew they wanted to say but hadn’t yet decided how to. Niko didn’t speak at first. He just stood there, inches away, expression unreadable.
When he finally did speak, his voice was quiet but edged in steel. “You should’ve told us.”
I met his gaze head-on. “I’m telling you now.”
He didn’t respond immediately, and neither did anyone else. The pause lingered like smoke—thick, charged, and impossible to ignore.
“It’s late,” he said eventually.
“But it’s not too late,” I replied, holding his gaze.
The next silence was worse. This one didn’t feel like strategy—it felt personal. They weren’t just considering protocol or logistics anymore. They were measuring trust. Weighing the cost of what I’d done and the choice I’d made to keep something from them. Every second that passed, I could feel the shift. They were recalibrating—reassessing me.
And I deserved it.
Because this wasn’t just about the mission. It was about the damage I’d done. The loyalty I was risking. And the woman I was already too far gone for.
When Niko finally nodded, the gesture was sharp and clipped. “Fine,” he said. “We bring Quinn in. But you’d better hope to God this doesn’t blow up in our faces.”
“I’ll take responsibility,” I told him, steady despite the fire crawling up the back of my neck.
His eyes didn’t waver. “You already are.”
An hour later,Quinn pulled into the drive. It was just after midnight.
