Shit.
I shift, but it just makes my knee hit Breaker’s, and Zane notices that too. He notices a little too much, not just the subtle hints we’re close—very close—but how I move.
His eyes fly to between my legs. My insides squirm. Zane definitely partakes in sins of the male flesh. That he’s having those ideas about me makes me want to bolt from the room and scrub my skin.
“I may have asked before, but when did you three meet?” Zane says, looking at Breaker now. I don’t miss when those lingering looks snag on his lips, but when his gaze moves to Breaker’s groin, rage zaps through me like a swarm of angry wasps.
My hand fists, nails digging into the palm, my other squeezing my glass tightly. The urge to bolt up, dig my finger into his eye socket, pop out that roaming eyeball and smash it under the heel of my shoe makes my teeth grind.
Breaker not only notices Zane’s obvious looks, but he must feel my body tense next to him because he shifts slightly, then casts me a stern glance.
“A few years ago,” Breaker says. “We met by chance.”
A grating hmm is Zane’s reply.
“I sold him a sword,” I say, my tone venomous, which rips Zane’s lecherous eyes from Breaker, and settles them on me.Good. When he gives me another full-body perusal, I revisit the thought of digging his eyes out.
“I hear you’re an expert on weapons, Vincent,” he says after a minute. “Your specialty being knives.”
I tilt my head in agreement. That’s my cover story. Vincent Campbell appeared in Rune’s circle shortly after Ben, all brash and violent, showing up at fundraisers, tossing money around like confetti. Rumor has it that Vince came from a wealthy family in Scotland. New money that came from selling ancient artifacts on the black market. Then Vince met Ben at one of Rune’s associate’s gatherings.
When we teamed up, the Snyder Group was formed along with Striker, whose cover is real estate. On the outside, it appears he just throws money our way and helps decide what to buy and sell. Just a pretty face that appears now and then, but being partners with Ben and Vince means he’s involved in every decision.
Like who we sell weapons to.
“I see you brought the samples,” Zane says, lifting his chin to the box behind us.
“A few,” I say.
“Before we get to that, I want to make sure you three have all received the contract?” Zane drains his glass, then sets it down with a loudclinkon the glossy table. “I understand there was a delay.”
“Our office received it,” Breaker says, shifting to lean forward, propping his forearms on his knees. Zane’s eyes move to him, taking in his large hands, the gold cuff links on his black suit.Him.“We’ve all signed and sent it back.”
Zane nods. “Good. Once Rune looks over it, we can begin.”
The initiation.
My stomach dips, my mind shifting through the various things we could be asked to do. Breaker said it was pretty straightforward, but my guess is it’s going to be something far more than sitting in a shark cage.
There is no way Rune would require something so tame to prove the lodge member’s loyalty. Extreme wealth buys the depraved a level of secrecy that most people don’t have. He hasn’t managed to do this for fourteen years, and not have securities in place. Clyde told us he was never around for the initiation. It was a private thing between Rune and the requesting members. And there has only been one time the meeting ended badly, and a member was denied.
Meaning he died.
Then, his wife and kids, a week later.
“We can wait for that once your other member is with us,” Zane says, rising from the sofa. “Shall we get down to business?”
Setting my glass down, I unfold myself from my seat, avoiding eye contact with Breaker, and follow Zane toward the table. The blonde holds his hand out for the key. I ignore the gesture, moving into his space, daring him to protest. Breaker lifts the trunk, placing it on the table, glaring at him, and the guard backs away and stands with his partner behind Zane.
Maybe Zane is a tad paranoid.
With Breaker’s help, I lay out a red cloth and display a few of the weapons I brought to entice this sicko. Right as we all sit, one of the guards by the door approaches and leans in, whispering in Zane’s ear.
“Ah, the goods are here,” he says, a wide, slightly oily grin on his face.
Zane pushes back from the table and stands, walking toward the door behind us. The second he can no longer see my face, I cast a worried look in Breaker’s direction. His features pinch, unease making his full lips pull into a tight frown.
“Goods?” he mouths, leaning back in his seat and brushing a thumb over the sleek black tie, then casting a quick glance across the table from us.
