Page 16 of Edge
“You’re not professionals,” I drawled. “You’re an upstart outfit sniffing a payday and trying to buy a conscience so you don’t have to grow one.”
That landed. His breath clipped in, sharp. “I didn’t call to be insulted.”
“Then hang up.” I grinned without humor. “And if you think you can bribe me into changing how I work, you’re not just green—you’re dumb.”
He tried menace next, soft and sweet around the edges like a knife in a cupcake. “We know where to find people. Sometimes we don’t take no.”
I stared at my reflection in the glass—green eyes flat as a winter river—and let the calm roll through me. I’d always had two speeds: the one that smiled and the one that ripped throats. Both were mine. He was asking for the wrong one.
“Let me be crystal,” I murmured, watching Callie shift in the corner of my eye, pulling my shirt down with an absent hand that made my chest tighten. “I don’t sell weapons. I build tools. They don’t leave my circle. You try to pry those hands open, and you’ll pull back stumps.”
“You threatening me?”
“I’m doing you the favor no one ever does. I’m telling you the truth straight.” I tipped my head, voice amused again because it came easier than the growl. “You’re not the first hotshot crewto dial this number. You won’t be the last. I shut it down every time.”
His temper finally cracked. “You think you’re untouchable because you’ve got a decent fence and some friends?”
I let a beat pass, picturing Kane’s grin when he was in a mood, the one he wore when someone put a toe over a line he drew. “I think you’re done wasting my time, Rye. And that if you take up any of mine again, you’ll learn what precision really looks like.”
He breathed through his nose like he wanted to get brave. Then the line went dead.
I thumbed the screen black and rested the phone against my thigh. The night sang. My pulse didn’t. I’d had bigger threats. I’d had worse offers. It still left a taste I’d learned to respect—the one that sat low in my gut and waited.
Most calls like that burned out fast. Once in a while, they didn’t, and you learned which were which by not flinching and not advertising. I considered alerting Kane, then decided no. Not yet.
Everyone wanted access to my work. Dealers. Mercs. Rival MCs playing dress-up. You spent your life behind a bench and a barrel, and you became a rumor. If the buzzing gnat grew teeth, I’d tell my brother.
Inside, Callie had pushed herself half upright and was rubbing her eyes with the cuff of my sleeve like a kid who’d watched a movie too late. I slid the door open and stepped back into the cool of the A/C and the smell of her.
“You okay?” she asked softly, attention sharpening as soon as she got a look at my face.
“Work,” I answered, dropping onto the couch and gathering her legs back over mine where they belonged. “Wrong number with teeth too small to matter.”
We watched the movie for a bit, then she got up to get a drink, asking if I wanted anything, and I just shook my head. When she returned and sat, I pulled her legs across mine once more.
“Tatum?” Her voice was soft, unsure.
“Hmm?” I glanced over and watched her mouth curve, then she hesitated.
“We could…I mean, if you need to handle something, I can head home. It’s late. You probably want a little—” Her hand fluttered, a nervous little flick. “Space.”
I went still. The air thinned to a narrow tunnel between her eyes and mine.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
It came out as a growl, not because I was angry with her, but because the idea of her putting distance between us scraped places I didn’t let the world touch.
Color rose in her cheeks. She leaned back an inch, not from fear—she wasn’t scared of me—but because she thought she was being polite. “We’ve been together every night this week. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
I dragged a hand over my jaw, felt the coarse rasp of beard, and fought the instinct to pick her up and toss her over my shoulder just to prove a point. My pulse settled into its old rhythm—calm on the surface, a faster drum underneath.
“You think this is a hotel?” I cocked a brow. “You think I have a long line of guests waiting to rotate through my sheets?”
Her mouth opened, then shut. “No, but?—”
I leaned in until her knees bumped my ribs, and the heat coming off her turned mine into a bigger problem. “But nothing, baby.”
She tried for steady. “You’ve been…quiet since the call. I figured I should get out of your hair.”
