Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
“Stay put,” I growled.
Then I was gone.
Whiskey, Stone, Hawk, Racer, and Midnight were already in Fox’s office when I got there, spread out around the conference table with coffee, attitude, and weapons-grade sarcasm.
Stone and Racer were mid-argument.
“If you jackasses would stop using the legal fund like a damn tab—”
Racer cut in, mouth twisted in a grin. “You love the drama, Counselor. Admit it. Gives you a reason to use all those fancy words and threaten people in Latin or some shit.”
“Pretty sure Stone just threatened to sue me for existing last week,” Deviant added, strolling into the office through the door on the other wall connected to Maverick’s office. He lifted his chin at me in greeting, and every head turned my way.
“Look who finally showed up,” Hawk drawled. “Thought you might’ve gotten tangled in your girl’s curls and forgot how to walk.”
I ignored him and dropped into the seat between Whiskey and Stone.
“You look like you’ve been chewing glass,” Midnight muttered, cracking a beer.
“Maybe he finally got laid,” Racer said, kicking his boots up on the table. “Then again, with that scowl, maybe he didn’t finish.”
“Keep talkin’, and I’ll shove that bottle up your ass, glass-first,” I threatened in a low steady voice that made it very clear I wasn’t fucking around.
Stone didn’t look up from the notepad in front of him. “Don’t expect me to bail any of you shitheads out if you get arrested for murder.”
Whiskey snorted. “Not the police they’d have to worry about. You think any of the old ladies would put up with that shit?”
No one had the chance to answer because Fox walked in with Mav at his side, both of them carrying the kind of leadership presence that said it was time to shut up or eat a bullet. I sat back, arms crossed and jaw locked tight.
Fox sat behind his desk, while Mav slid into one of the available chairs in front of it. They started with some club business. Gave us the rundown—maintenance requests, an update on a new client, and a few external security concerns in the south part of town. Nothing heavy.
It was a good thing Fox had already excused me from that shit because I wasn’t really there. My thoughts kept circling back to the woman upstairs wearing my damn shirt. Imagining her alone. Scared. Vulnerable.
A prolonged silence finally caught my attention.
Mav leaned back in his chair, smirking. “I remember this stage. When I first brought Molly here, I hated to let her outta my sight until I knew she was locked down.”
Fox snorted and pointed at his VP. “You threatened to shoot anyone who got within ten feet. Even me.”
That earned a low chuckle from Whiskey and Stone.
Maverick crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them. “Like you two were any better.”
“Point taken,” Whiskey acknowledged. Then he shot me a crooked grin. “You’re not far off from the rest of us, Savage.”
I mentally sighed. Yeah, when all this was over, I was gonna take endless bullshit for all the crap I’d spouted about the guys being pussy-whipped. Before I met Tamara and realized I would have to eat my words.
Fox’s gaze was steady on me as he waited for the verbal sparring to end. “Tamara?” he asked.
“She’s squared away.”
“Good,” Fox said, lifting a brow. “Because this shit’s getting uglier by the hour.”
“Company’s called Arcane Testing Solutions,” Deviant announced as he opened his laptop. He punched a few keys, then flipped it around so we could see the information on the screen. “Like I said before, it’s a front. All fake. Paper trail loops back to a med-tech investor group. Real quiet. And real fucking dirty.”
Stone tapped his fingers against the table. “Preliminary look at the corporation’s structure is a legal rat’s nest. Shell companies stacked like a damn Russian doll. Laundering grant money through third-party labs, all marked as nonprofit research.”
“Assholes,” Whiskey muttered, his voice like crushed gravel.
“They’re running trials without consent,” Midnight added. “Low-income patients and minimal documentation, all buried under false paperwork. This isn’t just illegal. It’s reckless. And fucking inhumane.”
“We take it down,” I said flatly. “All of it.”
“One piece at a time,” Fox agreed, nodding.
“They have an off-site storage house,” Deviant added. “That’s where the equipment and old records are. We should start there. Could have something we can use to punch a hole through the corp’s armor.”
Midnight nodded and pushed some photos to the center of the table. They were all surveillance shots of a small warehouse. He glanced at me, and I jerked my chin up in a gesture of thanks. He’d obviously sent someone all the way out there to check it out as soon as Deviant had an address.
“Get in, get out, then level the motherfucking place,” I stated without inflection.
“Not yet,” Stone sighed. “We do it smart. Get what we need. But don’t tip ’em off.”