23. Colt

23

COLT

I lean against the warehouse wall, watching Ty negotiate with the Easthollow crew. The dim lighting catches the edge of his smirk as he quotes them prices that make even my eyes water. Nash stands at my shoulder, but I find him distracting after everything between us.

“That’s steep,” one of the buyers growls.

“Quality costs,” Ty shoots back, unfazed. “You won’t find better products anywhere else.”

Lars snickers from his position by the door, earning a sharp look from the buyers. Cade elbows him, but I catch the grin they share.

“Something funny?” The buyer’s hand twitches toward his waistband.

“Just admiring your negotiation skills,” Lars drawls, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Phoenix doesn’t even look up from his laptop, his fingers flying over the keys as he monitors security feeds and police channels. The blue glow from his screen catches the edge of Gage’s mask, where he looms in the shadows, silent as ever.

“Keep your dogs in check,” the buyer snaps at Ty.

Nash tenses beside me. I resist the urge to reach for him, to steady him like I would during our act. Instead, I crack my knuckles, the sound echoing in the warehouse.

“My people aren’t the problem here,” Ty’s voice carries that dangerous edge I’ve learned to recognize. “The problem is you thinking you can get premium goods at street prices.”

Cade shifts his weight, ready for trouble. But the buyer must see something in Ty’s expression because he backs down, pulling out a thick envelope.

“Fine. When can we do business again?”

“We’ll be in touch,” Ty says smoothly, passing the envelope to Phoenix for counting.

The tension bleeds out of the room as the buyers leave. Still, Cade can’t help himself: “I’ve seen better muscle tone in a bowl of spaghetti—they ought to try hitting the gym occasionally.”

One of the guys growls, but his boss tells him to leave it. I sigh in relief when the buyers are gone.

“You’re going to get yourself shot one day,” Nash addresses Cade, but he’s fighting a smile.

I watch Cade’s face split into that manic grin I know too well. He bounces on his toes like a kid at Christmas, all barely contained energy.

“Did you see that asshole reach for his piece?” Cade’s eyes are fever-bright. “Should’ve let me gut him right there. Would’ve been poetry.”

“Poetry involves less blood usually,” I point out, but I’m grinning too. The rush of a successful deal has us all riding high.

“Speak for yourself.” Cade pulls out his knife, spinning it between his fingers. “I write in red ink.”

Lars snorts. “That was terrible, even for you.”

“Everyone’s a critic.” Cade feigns offense, but his smile doesn’t dim. “Come on, you can’t tell me you weren’t hoping they’d try something?”

“Some of us prefer not to clean blood off our clothes every night,” Nash chimes in.

“That’s what dark colors are for,” Gage speaks up unexpectedly, making Phoenix jump and curse as his fingers slip on the keyboard.

“Jesus fuck, warn a guy,” Phoenix mutters, but there’s no heat in it.

Ty counts out shares from the envelope, clearly amused by our banter. “Children, please. Some of us are trying to work.”

“All work and no play makes Ty a dull boy,” Cade sings, dodging the wadded-up bill Ty throws at his head.

“All play and no sense makes Cade a dead boy,” Lars counters, catching the money before it hits the ground. “But he’s right about one thing—those suits were tragic.”

I watch Remy saunter in late, his dark eyes scanning the room before landing on me with his knowing smirk.

“You missed all the fun,” I tell him, adjusting my position against the wall to ease my shoulder.

“Oh?” He runs a hand through his messy black hair. “Let me guess—Cade wanted to stab someone, Lars made fun of their clothes, and Ty closed another deal without bloodshed. How’d I do?”

“Scary accurate,” Nash says beside me.

Remy shrugs, a fluid motion that draws attention to his lean muscles. “The classics never get old. However, I’m disappointed that I missed the fashion critique. Nothing brightens my day like watching Lars judge other people’s life choices.”

“Says the guy wearing yesterday’s shirt,” Lars fires back.

“Bold of you to assume it’s only from yesterday.” Remy winks.

Phoenix makes a gagging sound without looking up from his laptop. “I thought something stank.”

Remy flips him off. “I smell just fucking fine, thank you.”

“Some of us have better things to do than worry about than designer labels.”

“Like what?” Cade challenges.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Remy’s smile turns sharp. “A gentleman never kisses and tells. Though I suppose that’s never stopped you, has it, Cade?”

Nash stifles a laugh as Cade flips Remy off. The easy banter feels good after the tension of the deal, though I notice Remy’s eyes darting to the shadows where Gage stands. Those two have never quite gotten comfortable with each other.

“If you’re done with the bullshit,” Ty cuts in, “some of us have actual work to finish.”

“All work and no play makes Ty a dull boy,” Remy quotes, echoing Cade’s earlier taunt.

“That’s what I said!” Cade exclaims.

“Great minds think alike.” Remy grins. “Though in your case, I might be overselling it.”

The familiar rhythm of our post-deal comedown fills the warehouse. This is what outsiders don’t get about us—we’re family. Fucked up, dangerous, and probably all certifiable, but a family, nonetheless.

I shift my weight, glancing at Nash, who’s already checking his phone. Flora should be safe with Aurora and the others, but being away from her makes my skin crawl. Especially after Tommy and Jake showed their faces.

“We done here?” I ask Ty, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice.

Nash straightens beside me. “Got that Christmas show to prep for.”

“Christmas show, huh?” Cade’s grin turns wicked. “That what we’re calling it now?”

“Shut it,” I growl, but Lars jumps in.

“How’s the new trainee working out?” He waggles his eyebrows. “Must be keeping you both real busy.”

Heat crawls up my neck. Nash’s fingers brush my arm—a warning or reassurance, I’m not sure which.

“Flora’s a natural on the trapeze,” Nash says smoothly, but something in his tone makes Cade cackle.

“Oh, I bet she is.” Cade mimes a swinging motion. “Real flexible, right?”

My hands curl into fists, but Ty steps in before I can react. “Alright, enough. Get out of here, all of you. And try not to kill anyone on your way home.”

“No promises,” Cade calls out, but I’m already heading for the door, Nash close behind.

“Tell Flora we said hi!” Lars shouts after us.

I flip him off without looking back, but I catch Nash’s quiet laugh. The tension in my shoulders eases slightly at the sound.

“They’re just jealous,” Nash murmurs as we reach the car.

“They should be,” I say, and Nash’s eyes darken in a way that makes my breath catch.

We need to get back to Flora. Now.