Page 100 of Nest of Thieves
His breathing evens out after another few minutes, and I’m left lying in his arms, staring at the ceiling with guilt churning in my gut.
twenty-five
MAC
Damien’s office is in the back of a seedy nightclub off the boardwalk. Even on a Sunday, the place is crawling with people. Vette pushes through the crowd, clearing a path for Lark and me to follow as we head to the meeting. It’s not unusual for us to be called in without warning, but with Jo living in our house, I’m worried the meeting is about her. He better not threaten her. I stick my hand in my pocket and run my thumb over the switchblade. I never thought I’d consider offing the boss.
Vette holds the door to the short hall open and scowls at a group of drunk dudes who shoot curious looks our direction. One puffs up his chest. I pull out my knife and flick it open, pointing it in his direction. “Bad dog.”
The men all blanch and move far away from the door.
Vette sighs as I pass through the threshold. “I had it taken care of.”
“So did I,” I say with a shrug. I tuck my knife back into my pocket.
Lark is waiting outside the office, an impatient line forming across his forehead. He’s used to me and Vette bickering, but that doesn’t mean he always enjoys it. I straighten and slip on a serious mask. He raps on the door three times. A hulking form appears on the other side of the frosted glass door. Orc opens it and stares at us, checking for weapons. We all came armed, but that’s our life.
“Don’t try anything stupid,” he warns as per usual.
“Come on, Orc. We’re not going to hurt him.” Lark rolls his eyes. “If you were really worried about it, why not disarm us every time?”
“Stop wasting their time,” Damien calls from inside the room.
Orc simply grunts and steps aside. Lark and Vette pass by the beast of a beta without a second glance, but I slow my steps, tipping my lips up and winking at him. He growls. Laughing, I pat his head.
“You’re adorable when you try to intimidate me. Stand down,” I infuse my alpha command into the last part, and he immediately drops his gaze, moving back a few steps.
“Must you torture my bodyguard?” Damien sounds exasperated.
“If he insists on treating us like the enemy every time we show up, then yeah, I’m going to torture him.” I drop into the third seat in front of a giant wooden desk. Orc is right to worry about us, though. If Damien threatens Jo...well, a little fire never hurt anyone.
Damien leans back in his chair, narrowing his eyes at me. “Alpha posturing is for the weak.”
Oh, please. I’ve seen Damien use his bark to corral people into doing his will plenty of times. I could take Orc without my alpha command, but it’s nice to remind him from time to time that he’s not as big and bad as he thinks he is.
Making him my bitch with a command is a perfect way to do just that.
“We’re not here for a dick-measuring contest,” Lark cuts in.
Damien slides his gaze to my brother. “One of your soldiers died.”
“Orion. A small street gang did it. The 609 Vandals.” Lark pulls out his phone and shows Damien the photos and a short video of the incident. “A nearby convenience store had a camera pointing in the direction of the attack. You can see the four of them run up here and stab him.” It only took Lark a day to find the footage. He’s been working on matching the faces to county databases to identify the assholes. He’s only been able to find one with the quality of the footage, but one was enough to connect the dickheads to the 609 Vandals.
“They stabbed him twelve times,” I say, flicking my blade out. “Eleven times too many.”
Damien nods. “I assume you’ve found them?”
“Yeah.” Vette leans forward and rests his forearms on his thighs. “We’re surveilling their activities for a few more days before we hit them.”
“Attacking a member of Atlantic City Knights is a death sentence.” Damien cuts and lights a cigar, puffing on the end until the cherry glows bright red.
A formal blessing to do what needs to be done.
“Understood.” Lark sets his phone in his lap.
“And the cars? You’re on track to hit the quota?”
“The garage is down a man, but we’re going out to get the cars to make up for missing Orion.” Vette grips the arm of his chair, likely annoyed Damien doesn’t seem to give a shit about Orion’s death. All Damien cares about is the fact that someone attacked a member of his crew. It makes him look weak.
