Chapter 13

"Iknew this would work out. Your father has impeccable taste," her mom says while having dinner, announcing our engagement. Mrs. Hatton blindly follows her husband's wishes, unaware of his criminal activities.

Tessa blushes every time I squeeze her leg under the table, and I see the suspicion in her father's eyes grow as we eat the four-course meal.

Tessa grabs my hand. "Daddy, I couldn't have chosen better myself."

With a tempered smile, I say as I squeeze Tessa's hand. "He's a smart man and certainly the best decision I've ever made."

"Beckett, we have business to discuss." Mr. Hatton's eyes narrow before he turns and crooks a finger. I follow him to his office. Once I'm inside, he says, "Shut the door."

When I do, he grabs me by shirt. "Have you had sex with my daughter?"

"Yes." He needs to know that Tessa and I will do what we want, when and where we want. He won't control us.

"That wasn't part of the deal. I remember you saying you were clear on not touching my daughter. Now, it can't get it annulled."

I wrap my fingers around his wrists and jerk his hands away from my collar. "Do not touch me. I love your daughter, and she loves me. This should make you happy, truly cementing our relationship. None of us have to lie to people because it's real. You forget I'm a twin, and my brother can spot me lying a mile away."

Hatton straightens his shirt.

"You're not good enough for my daughter."

"And are you good enough to be her father? I wouldn't pass judgement just because you wear thousand-dollar suits. We both know what you are and what you do. You're no better than I am, just better at hiding who you are from your family and this town."

He shakes his head and pours himself a bourbon on the rocks. It's Barron's 12 Special Reserve.

"The wedding needs to be soon. I need cover and an air-tight alibi. My boss needs this shipment like yesterday."

"Everything is in place."

Everything to bring this motherfucker down.Selling guns on the black market that are killing the vulnerable in every major American city.

He glances at the large calendar on his walnut-carved desk. "Three weeks from tomorrow."

I swallow hard. I was hoping to marry Tessa at the beach house, but if he wants his daughter's wedding for an alibi, I'm fucked. My plan was to marry her, then get her out of town when the ATF descends on him and his business.

"We'll make it work."

"Party at the Shack. This is why I joined the Lost Souls," Rooster says as he embraces me. "Congratulations, you're marrying up, Double."

"Believe me, I know how lucky I am."

I lean down and kiss the woman who rocks my world.

In the club's eyes, Tessa will now be my old lady. Even though she's the youngest person here. The guys are loyal, and I have to admit if somehow they get caught on the wrong side of the law, I'll never forgive myself.

Gunner snatches her out of my arms. "Welcome, Country Club."

"That sounds like I'm a snob, and I'm not."

"It's all in fun. You're already classing the place up," Rooster wraps her in his embrace. "Double had us buy all new furniture." He gestures with his hands, bending over like she's royalty. "Your castle awaits."

Tessa pulls on his beard, playfully dragging him towards the bar. She climbs on the stool and uses Rooster to steady herself. "Who thinks I can go shot for shot with Rooster?"

The guys whoop and holler. "My money is on Country Club," Gunner says.

"Fuck you. She's tiny," Rooster fights back.

As I observe her interacting with my friends, a twinge of emotion tugs at my heart. She seamlessly adapts to each social circle, blending in wherever she goes.

She fits in perfectly with Vanessa and Beau, who exude a down-to-earth vibe, even though they're filthy rich.

With my friends, despite their crude and unrefined demeanor, she easily engages in playful banter with them.

And although it's not currently obvious, she possesses the grace and etiquette befitting a debutante of a country club cotillion, which I expect will be the face she puts on at our wedding. The same one she wore last night at dinner with her parents… the perfect daughter.

A pang of guilt hits me as I watch her going shot for shot with Rooster. The guys are taking bets. How will she feel about me once she finds out what I really do to make a living, not to mention her father? Will she feel betrayed by me?

Of course, she will. I would.

Riddler taps me on the shoulder. "A group of her friends is here. Should I let them in?"

I nod. "Send them to me first."

Their eyes widen, taking in all of the leather, chrome, and tattoos as Riddler leads them over.

I'm leaning against a pole just being fucking happy. Honestly, I can't remember being this happy since middle school, playing sports with my twin and hoisting trophy after trophy above our heads. I take my hands out of my pocket and extend my hand. "I'm Beckett."

"I'm Serita, but your jacket says Double. And these are our friends Jamie and Jenny."

Jamie and Jenny look like identical twins.

"Please call me Beckett. Feel free to join Tessa. She's currently drinking my best friend under the table." I laugh.

"That's our girl. Oh, Beckett, don't hurt her. She's been burned."

"Haven't we all?" Sometimes, it's our own doing and nerves hit my stomach.

They yell, "Tessa!" She raises her hands, and they mimic Elaine from Seinfeld. Her friends join in on the fun, and Gunner seems to have taken an interest in Serita. He's close to their age, so I let it go. But these other old fuckers are keeping their hands to themselves.

Gunner pulls out his guitar and makes every woman in the place swoon. Except for mine. We're in the corner, and she's talking dirty to me. My girl is so damn cute when she's had too much to drink. Everyone stays for parties like this. No one is allowed to leave, so even though I had one drink all night, Tessa and I stay in one of the bedrooms. She passes out before delivering on her dirty talk and if I'm being truthful with myself, I enjoy just being in her presence, cuddling her body next to mine.

Early in the morning, I run out for an iced coffee for Tess and donuts and make a call to my handler to ensure the bourbon barrels don't get flagged for inspection. If this reflects negatively on Barron's Bourbon, Vanessa may kill me, and I won't have to worry about the Chicago mob, who the ATF believe is ultimately behind the guns.

Riddler is awake and sitting outside. I hand him a donut.

"Never thought I'd see you in love. She's incredible."

"I know. One of a kind."

"Beckett…" He never uses my real name. "I hope she doesn't get caught in the crossfire."

My brows twitch, and I feel my breath deepen. "What do you mean?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know. We've never run guns and for her father. If things go sideways, she could lose you, her father, or both. Why did he hire us instead of having his own guys do it?"

"They don't have the connections I do. I promise after this, we're clean." He can't find out that I'm an undercover agent for the ATF.

He scoffs. "You know when people get a little taste of money… they want more of it."

I hadn't thought of how it could hurt Gunner and Rooster, not to mention the other guys. What if they end up in this business? No, I won't let that happen.

When I don't respond, he says, "When is the wedding?"

"Soon. She's meeting with a wedding planner this afternoon."

"It's good; she'll be busy."

"Yep. You and Rooster are flying to the Netherlands tomorrow to check the shipments at the holding facility."

He takes a drag of a cigarette. "Don't trust the fuckers?"

I may be working for the ATF, but I wouldn't put it past any government motherfucker to use me for the fall guy if things go sideways, but I can't disclose any of those thoughts to Riddler.

"Just making sure it's only the four hundred guns we agreed to get on the bourbon shipment."

I provided the ATF with the parameters outlined by Mr. Hatton, and I need to ensure that the quantity of firearms matches our agreed-upon amount precisely. There must be no discrepancy or missing guns that cannot be accounted for or traced back.

There's no one I trust more than Riddler, aka Trevor. He reminds me of Beau, so damn introspective, which is probably what drew me to him. He was the second Lost Soul after me. He lost a leg in Afghanistan when he was Tessa's age, and his wife walked out on him, saying she didn't sign up for this. Trevor has a top-of-the-line prosthetic leg—rides motorcycles, plays old-man softball, and does whatever he wants.

"I need to know the whole plan. You can keep the rest of the fuckers in the dark but not me."

Riddler's eyes narrow as he blows smoke from his lips.

"You'll know everything I know."

Lie.