7. Maddox

SEVEN

MADDOX

I didn't realize how much I needed a moment to just be myself with some friends. I don't feel great —the whole affair with Knives is still burning in the back of my mind—but I do feel refreshed.

With a little distance and clarity, I realize there's a big hole I overlooked in this whole weapons issue.

Whoever took the guns must have known they were being transported. In order to know that, there must have been a leak.

I don't know why I didn't think of that sooner.

"Coulda been somebody on the other side," Lance suggests as we approach one of our warehouses. "There's no reason to think it was somebody here."

I shake my head. "Possible, sure. But It was coordinated, and we didn't notice it for a while. I don't think any of our men are so careless that we'd lose track of shit for so long." I glance at him. "You know there are still some guys who wish Silvano weren't in charge."

"Yeah, they're pissed that ‘the fags' are taking over," Lance says with a snort. He glances at me, then quickly adds, "You know I don't care, but yeah, some of the guys have been a little annoyed. They think some people are just getting their jobs because they're gay." He straightens up, informing me, "I made damn sure they don't think that about you, boss."

I blink at him, a little startled. It isn't like I try to hide my sexuality, but I'm not open about it, either. "Why would they think that about me?" I ask.

Lance scratches the back of his neck. "I dunno. It's just…" He shifts uncomfortably, but before I can press him on the issue he opens the door to the warehouse. "We should hurry before Spinoza heads home."

I want to know exactly what the rumors about me are, but following up on my hunch is more important. I lead us toward the warehouse's main office, where three men are sitting around a coffee table.

Spinoza is smoking, and he barely glances up at us when we enter. "Yo, Gray! And Lance! We got a new shipment coming in?"

I nod and glance at the others. "Guys, can you give us some privacy? It's a delicate matter."

They murmur their agreement and head out. If they're involved in this, I'll take care of it later, after I've confirmed my suspicions about Spinoza.

Lance parks himself by the door and crosses his arms. Spinoza gives him a wary look before turning his attention to me.

"What's up? News from Cresci?" Spinoza takes a drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke out.

I sit down on the couch opposite of him and consider how I want to approach this. I could probably beat information out of him, but if he's innocent, I'll have just ruined a good working relationship. If he's guilty… Well, he's definitely not going to confess with the threat of violence hanging over him. Or he might confess to things he didn't even do, just to avoid more pain.

I think about how Silvano would handle this. He somehow manages to get people to willingly walk into traps, with just a few words and the right leverage. It's one of the things I admire about him: he doesn't always require bloodshed to get what he wants.

Not that he's against violence, but it's not his primary weapon.

"We're thinking about changing up the schedules," I say. "On account of the last one that went missing."

Spinoza nods. "Yeah, that makes sense. Gotta keep those fuckers on their toes."

"Exactly. No need to make it easy for them. The boss wants extra security everywhere, too." I sigh and lean forward. "Between you and me, the whole thing's a fucking mess. Sure, we've got the Winters operations under our control now, but what fucking point is there to that if we can't handle one single fucking delivery?"

"Fucking right," Spinoza mutters. He exhales smoke again and shakes his head. "What can I do?"

I grin at him. "The boss has a plan. New schedule, yeah. And… Well, maybe the next delivery has a little surprise in it."

Spinoza's eyes widen. "Yeah? What kind of surprise?"

I laugh, ignoring the disgusted feeling in the pit of my stomach that's telling me that my hunch was right. "Can't tell you. But I don't think anybody who tries to steal our shit is walking away from that with all their limbs intact."

I've definitely got his attention now. I detail the new schedule for him, but his eyes keep flickering between me and Lance.

Once I'm done with the fake delivery information, I get up and clap Spinoza on the shoulder. "You'll handle everything, right?"

Spinoza nods. "Yep. Consider it done."

I head to the door. Lance gives me a questioning look, but I shake my head.

Once we're back in the car, I pull out my phone and tap the app for the listening device I planted under the coffee table.

" I'm fucking telling you, leave the next shipments alone! Yeah, next week." Spinoza is saying to somebody.

Lance rolls his eyes. "Didn't fucking take him long."

I give my phone a disappointed look. "It's kind of predictable. He should have waited a little longer, at least."

"How long you want to wait to grab him?" Lance asks.

"I'll record a bit longer. We can rough him up and turn him over to the boss later." I grin at him. "A little violence is okay."

Lance laughs and extends his hand for a fist bump. "Sure thing, boss."

"Good job," Silvano says, and I fight to suppress a blush.

I always drink up any praise he gives me, but it's even more critical now. I fucked up too much to take it and run, but it's a welcome reprieve from the guilt and shame that have been gnawing at me. "Thank you, boss," I say, my eyes flicking from him to Spinoza, then back.

It had probably been overkill to drag him to Silvano myself, but I'm nothing if not thorough on a good day—and I haven't had enough good days lately.

"So I made a phone call!" Spinoza sputters. "That doesn't mean I'm guilty of anything else."

I give him a scornful look. If it wasn't for Silvano and his consigliere in the room, I might've dished out a few more blows just to try to work off some of the anxiety.

Finding the leak was key, sure.

But now I have to deal with the aftermath… which means dealing with Knives.

Silvano leans forward at his desk, clasping his hands in a way that looks menacing. I don't know how he manages to command all the attention in the room when Kyran Winters is standing right behind him, all raw muscle, but he makes it look effortless.

"Spinoza, we didn't ask you," Silvano says. "I heard the recordings. I already know that you're the reason a lucrative deal fell through." He glances over his shoulder at Kyran. "There was that other thing too, wasn't there?"

Kyran snorts and nods. "You mean the bank statements you had me look through?"

Silvano smiles. "Yes, those." He turns back to Spinoza. "You'll have to explain where all your extra funds come from."

Spinoza starts sweating even more profusely, and his body trembles, but he's been tied up and beaten bloody. There's nowhere for him to go.

"Anyway. Maddox, you're dismissed. Kyran and I will decide what to do with our dear Spinoza."

I don't envy him.

I don't spare a glance at the face I'd already bashed in plenty, instead nodding and replying, "Understood."

I head out of the room, fucking glad it isn't me in the hot spot. It very well could've been if I hadn't turned up any information.

Hell, it still could be if I don't track this down.

It's doubtful. Silvano is pragmatic, and he knows I bust my ass for him. A demotion would be more likely, but I can't ever tell when he'll decide to send a message that fuck-ups like mine just aren't tolerated if they aren't immediately remedied.

I head down to the office Lily uses for her tech wizardry, knocking on the open door to let her know I'm there.

She lifts a flawlessly-manicured finger in a "one-second" motion, and I wait for her to finish typing. I respect her. She has a quick mind, a dry sense of humor, and a complete and utter inability to tolerate bullshit.

Then again, she tolerates Knives.

My mood darkens again, but I make sure she can't see my impatience. She gets enough shit from the other men, and she's someone I'd want to be friends with if circumstances were different.

They aren't, but I can at least keep things as friendly as possible.

Lily's attention turns to me, and she offers me a smile I'm not quite sure how to read. "Okay, I have that info for you," she says without preamble. "Nice work, locking in on Spinoza." She scowls. "Someone should've caught onto him sooner, honestly. He was a walking red flag."

I cringe because that someone is me . I should've noticed that there was something wrong far before I did. But I'd been so distracted by Knives's presence, whether he'd been there physically or just haunting my mind, that I'd really fucked up. "Yeah," I say, my voice as neutral as I can make it.

"You probably think I'm talking about you," Lily says, and my head snaps up as I stare at her. She nods, as though confirming something to herself. "Yeah, I figured. A certain someone does like to blame you for everything that happens."

"Yeah," I say again. "But it's fine."

"Fine," she repeats. "But is it true?"

I scowl at her. "Yes, I'm sure it is. I'm a backstabbing traitor, I'm personally responsible for world hunger, everything that goes wrong in this Family is because of me, blah blah blah. Now can we get on with it so I can leave?"

Leave, to go find Knives. To hear all of this again, and again, the whole way down to New Valence, then while we're there—trying to work together—then all the fucking way back.

Maybe I'll join up with one of the families down there instead.

The idea holds a certain allure, now that I think about it. I don't want to move to a new place and have to work my way back up all over again, but at the same time, it would be nice not to run into Knives everywhere I go.

"Knives should be here for this report, too," she says, a small smirk tugging on her lips. "He said he's on his way."

Fuck.

"You can't just tell me what you know now?" I grumble, setting my back hard against the door frame.

"Why bother to do it twice?" Lily retorts. "It won't be long, anyway. Just relax." She pauses, considering me, then offers, "For what it's worth, I don't think you're the absolute worst."

I scowl at her. "You know, somehow, that's not really that big of a compliment as you might be thinking it is."

"Did you start it, or did he?" She looks relaxed, but there's something about her demeanor that makes me realize she's a little wary of this conversation.

"What?" I ask, trying to narrow down what she could possibly be blaming me for.

"The fight," she clarifies. "Looks like he clocked you hard."

I sigh. The last thing I want is to go over this again, especially with someone who's so obviously in the pro-Knives club. "I don't want to talk about it, all right? It was my fault. I fucked up."

I'm not sure who hates me more, Knives or myself.

Lily scoffs at me, but before she can respond, Knives's heavy footsteps sound from down the hall.

Great.

Knives walks in, looking down at his phone. "This better be good, Lily, because I've got…" He trails off when he sees me and scowls. "Now what?"

"We're leaving for New Valence in the morning," I tell him, feeling about as happy about all of this as he looks. "Lily managed to track down where the shipment was last, and from there… We just have to go and do things the old-school way."

Knives's eyes narrow. "I know that. How do you know that?" He looks past me toward Lily. "You shared the info I sent you? Fucking bitch."

Lily glares daggers at him. "Fuck off, Knives. I'm doing my fucking job. At least Mads is being polite to me, so maybe I will share this and all the rest of the info I have with just him."

"I don't have time for this shit," I say, feeling something inside of me threatening to snap. "This isn't a goddamn game. We have to leave tomorrow morning. For our job. So unless you want to be the one telling Silvano fucking Cresci that you don't want to share info, shut the fuck up and let her talk."

Knives crosses his arms and sneers. "Fine. Let's get it over with."

Lily rolls her eyes, sliding her chair away from the desk. She points at a map on her screen. "Well, there's the last known location per the GPS. Going by the info we got out of Spinoza and your contacts, Knives, we can be pretty sure it's the Demon Gators who got our goods. The question is where they're hoarding our stuff." She looks at me. "Spinoza didn't have any additional tips, did he?"

I shake my head. "No, they paid him for the leads but didn't involve him beyond that."

Knives groans and runs his fingers through his beard. "Great. Which means we'll have to ask around in New Valence." He shakes his head. "My buddy Thunder said…" He stops and glares at me. "He's got a friend down there who has an in with them. She'd be willing to meet with us. I was hoping it didn't have to come to that, though."

"Yeah, well, I was hoping I didn't have to go on a cross-country trip with you. Guess neither of us gets what we want," I snark at him, forcing my tone to calm before I ask Lily, "What else?"

Lily shrugs. "I'll send you all the information I've got on these fuckers. Their leader, Boar, is bad news… but you're both bad news too, so that shouldn't be a problem." She smiles at me, but I only eye her warily. "I think you can take him, Mads. Knives… You're probably a bit soft these days."

Knives makes a disgruntled noise. "Step away from your delicate electronics, and I'll show you fucking soft."

"Thanks," I tell Lily, ignoring Knives. "I'll report in as soon as we have anything."

I can't think of anything I want to do less than go to New Valence with Knives.

We'd fantasized about it once. There'd been ads on tv for the local festivals, and there had been rainbow flags everywhere, and it had seemed like we could have had a lot of fun partying with everybody, getting high on life.

We'd been dumb teenagers, of course.

"I'm going to report to Silvano," Knives says. "Lily, can you book flights for?—"

"I'm not your secretary," Lily counters. "Go plan your own business trip."

Knives sighs and heads out, walking toward Silvano's office.

I could let him handle it, but I realize I have no idea of what he might say to Silvano. I don't want to risk him throwing me under the bus or arranging something without telling me.

I hurry after him, staying just behind so he doesn't have a reason to talk to me.

Knives stops in front of Silvano's office and scowls at me, though. "I've got it covered."

I glare right back at him. "We have to work together on this, remember? We might as well get some practice in. Unless you want everyone in NewVa to know we're weak fuckers who can't even do our job right."

Knives's smoldering eyes bore into me. I swallow hard, and I try not to remember his hands on me, the domineering way he'd push me against walls, the searing kisses?—

"Come in," Silvano shouts from inside his office.

Knives breaks the stare and walks into the office.

Spinoza is no longer there—and there's no evidence that he was ever here at all. Silvano is sitting at his armchair this time, and Kyran…

His shirt is more disheveled than I remember. He must have gotten his hands dirty with Spinoza.

"You again?" Silvano asks when he sees me. "This had better be good."

Knives steps forward. "Sorry to bother you, boss. We've done all we can in terms of tracking the missing shipments from here. But I've got a contact down in New Valence, and I should be able to find out more if I go directly."

Silvano stares at him, then says, "We."

"We?" Knives repeats, confused.

"You meant to say ‘if we go directly,' correct? Because you and Maddox are going together." Silvano smiles in our direction.

"Yes, sir," I say automatically. "I'll book our tickets?—"

"Tickets?" Kyran interrupts. "You can't fly there. How the fuck would you get the weapons back?"

Knives tenses. "Right. We can take our cars?—"

Now Silvano shakes his head. "Why are you complicating things? You two need to stick together. The whole point of not going alone is to ensure that there's always somebody around to cover your back."

I know Knives wants to protest as much as I do. He'd never trust me at his back, and I don't want him at mine, either. But sometimes, in this line of business, there's only one thing you can say, and that's, "Yes, sir." So that's what I say, then add, "Do you want us to take one of ours or a specific vehicle?"

Silvano looks over to Kyran. "Fox was done with that one…?"

"Yeah, he returned it, ‘cleaner than when he started,'" Kyran says, using air quotes and rolling his eyes. "It's got enough hidden compartments to handle transporting that particular shipment."

Silvano nods. "That's settled, then. See Jimenez about the vehicle. And don't return without my goods." He pauses and taps his chin. "I suppose I should tell you not to risk your lives, and call for backup if you need it." He laughs. "But right now, you two have been pissing me off. So I'm not sure I care either way—not until you can prove to me that you're more than some schoolboys pretending to be tough guys."

I flinch. He's not entirely wrong. We haven't been acting like mature professionals at all, and it doesn't surprise me that he's calling us out. "I understand, sir," I say dutifully, for all that I rankle a little at the whole thing.

All of this is because of Knives, and it makes me hate him even more than I do already.

"Hope so," Kyran says. "Because if we take a loss from this shipment…" He looks directly at me, and his expression isn't friendly.

Of course, it never is, so that's not necessarily saying much.

"Then the two of you can get the fuck out," Silvano orders. "The next time I see either of you, you'd better have results for me."

Knives gives a stiff nod. "Yes, sir. We'll leave first thing in the morning."

He stalks out the door.

I steal a glance in Silvano's direction, but his expression hasn't changed. So I nod, and for all that I want to stall, I don't. Instead, I close the door and hurry after Knives. "When and where are we meeting up?" I ask bluntly.

"Tomorrow morning, 6 a.m.," Knives says, and I notice that he sounds defeated. He can't see a way out of this either. He turns to me, and I tense when he steps into my personal space and boxes me in against the wall. "I don't trust you to cover my back. But I'm doing all this for the boss. So try not to chicken out again."

There's a stupid part of me that wants him to move closer, to press against me. I try to ignore that, instead focusing on his words and the ever-present loathing. "I'm not going to fucking chicken out," I snap. "Don't think you can leave at 5:59 and say I never showed, either. I don't know about you, but I want my fucking job. We're going to do this right, then we're going to get back, and we don't have to look at each other again."

We stare each other in the eyes, my heart pounding hard. His lips part, and I hear his soft inhale.

I shouldn't be surprised when he kisses me.

No matter how often he's said he hates me, no matter how many times we claim to be done, this keeps fucking happening.

Anybody could walk by. We aren't in a dark parking lot; we aren't hiding in a closet. We're just… here, and anyone could see us.

I should stop this.

I need to stop this.

I kiss him back instead, pouring all of my frustration and fear into it.

He growls and presses against me, truly trapping me against the wall. His warmth, his heat envelops me. The only thing I can see, hear, touch, smell, and even taste is him.

I want to give myself over to him. I want to fall into the submission, to give him what he wants and soar on the feelings.

He nips my lower lip, and I moan in response, dragging my pelvis along his.

"How the fuck…" Knives murmurs, but he cuts himself off and deepens the kiss. He drives his tongue into my mouth, completely dominating me with this kiss alone.

I don't dwell on what he might've been trying to say, on what he might still say. I've heard it all before, after all; it doesn't fucking matter what he spits at me in anger or loathing.

It only matters that he comes to me again and again, taking and taking, and I…

I need to stop this before it bites me in the ass again.

I shove him back, forcing anger into my voice when I snap, "I told you not to fucking touch me."

Knives is a solid person, but I'm no slouch. He stumbles back a few steps, his eyes widening in surprise. Then his expression morphs into a nasty sneer. "Fine. Don't be fucking late tomorrow."

He turns and leaves, his hands balled up into fists.

I wish I was happier to watch him leave.