Page 33 of Damascus & The Wildfire
“You OK?” I asked, voice softer now.
She nodded, but her eyes were glassy and her breath short. I wanted to say something to make her feel safer, but words felt useless. I reached for her hand and squeezed it.
“Let’s get you home.”
Chapter Twelve
Hatchet was annoying on a good day. All hopped up on sugar after spending the afternoon with Kenna? Irritating as fuck. I bristled as he babbled about their little downtown excursion and espresso chocolate cake she’d said was better than sex. The way he grinned made me want to put my fist through a wall.
What pissed me off more was that he’d left her alone in that parking lot. I could barely keep my voice level as I snapped, “You were there to protect her.”
Hatchet just rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Merrick. I was like, ten feet away. I was there with my gun in his face within seconds.”
“Both of you, shut the fuck up,” Reaper cut in. “You bicker like an old married couple. We need to figure out what the hell we’re doing about this situation before someone gets hurt.”
He wasn’t wrong. The city was getting dangerous—more desperate people without jobs, choosing crime as a way to fill their wallets. Not that we weren’t criminals, but we didn’t go after women.
“They’re escalating,” I growled. “It’s not just our women who are in danger. It’s every woman who drives into the city.”
Reaper raised a brow when I referred to “our women” but let itslide without comment. He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “The ladies have been planning their self-defense class. I know a few of you have been volun-told to help teach it.”
I grunted. “It’s a start. But I don’t want anyone going into the city by themselves. Or being left alone in a car so we can run personal errands.”
Hatchet shot me a look, but for once, he didn’t argue. Maybe he finally understood. Or perhaps he was just tired of hearing me bitch.
“It’s a solid PR move, too,” Thane said, rubbing a hand over his graying goatee. “Eva’s good at making us look like the good guys.”
“We keep the prospect on Kenna’s house, too. My gut says she’s a target. They’re looking for the payday they think she’ll be. All they had to do was Google the name on her driver’s license to see who her family is.”
Thane waved a hand dismissively, like he didn’t want to continue the debate. “Sure. Whatever you want. Linc, any update on the rat situation?”
Linc leaned forward, pulling up a file on his laptop. “System flagged that the CI met with their handler yesterday. Danny’s dead, so it wasn’t him.”
Thane slammed his fist on the table. “We need to figure out who’s fucking us over. Did you check into Dixon?”
Linc shook his head. “The meeting took place in Houston. I pinged his phone. He beelined for the Empire City Casino right after finishing up his contract, and he’s been there ever since.”
Reaper studied the names on Linc’s screen. “What about Tyler’s buddy, Roger? He’s been sniffing around. Asking a lot of questions.”
“Maybe. You think Roger’s borrowing Tyler’s credibility to get closer to all of us?” Reaper asked.
I rolled my shoulders, attempting to release the building tension. “Let’s keep an eye on him. Maybe feed him some false intel about a deal.”
Reaper nodded. “Roger just started working for me. I’ll let him overhear a phone call. I’ll make something up, maybe mention thewarehouse on the east side. It’s empty, so no big deal if the feds raid it.”
As the room emptied, I lingered. I rubbed my temples, a headache brewing. I let my gaze linger on the faded club patches lining the wall. Each one represented a brother who’d bled for the club.
Trust was the foundation of everything we built, and loyalty was the Maverick’s currency.
If I didn’t find the rat soon, we’d all pay the price.
An early morning text from Kenna drew me away from scheduling out the next month’s shifts for Maverick Security.
Kenna:
Can we meet today to plan the next self-defense class?
Me:
