My eyes go wide.
The Reapers’ owners are supposed to be a secret. There’s always been talk that the team was mafia-owned, but I never paid much attention until now. Apparently, the rumors are true.
Still, Nik’s wife looks too young to be anyone’s crime boss.
I take a closer look and spot a long scar down one side of her face. Instead of ruining her beauty, it just makes her even more striking. She’s… interesting, in a way that makes you want to know her story.
Nik notices me staring and snaps, “Quit it, Liam,” in a low, bristling voice.
I jerk my eyes away from Leanna, swallowing back a pit of irrational fear.
A baby cries in a nearby room. Leanna flashes a smile, holds up a finger, and rushes off.
“Come with me,” Nik says, already striding down the hallway. He’s big and lean. He moves like a guy who’s made a career out of sneaking up on people. And I feel like a draft horse clomping after him.
“I’m very protective of my wife,” he says, shooting me a look as we walk into a massive office. “Just so we’re clear, I’d kill anyone who got too close. Even friends. Capisce?”
“I understand,” I say. “I’m not...I wouldn’t.”
Nik grunts, pours two glasses of bourbon from a ridiculously fancy decanter, and hands one to me. I take a cautious sip and cough a little as it burns down, trying to look cooler than I feel.
He points at the couch. “Sit. Let’s talk.”
A few minutes later, Leanna reappears, this time with a baby propped on her shoulder, a tiny, dark-haired kiddo who looks like she’s already partied too hard for one night.
She pats the baby’s back and claims the big chair behind the desk. Nik stands close beside her, all silent muscle and watchful eyes.
I finally notice the gun at his hip and try not to stare.
Nik doesn’t waste time. “Liam’s getting squeezed by the Brownings,” he says, straight to the point. “They’re demanding three and a half million. What’s the deadline, Liam?”
“Eleven days from now,” I answer.
“Or what?” Nik asks, though he knows the answer.
“They threatened to kill my mother or my...friend.”
Leanna’s right eyebrow raises. “Friend?”
I swallow hard, eyes dropping to my glass, then force myself to look back up and meet her gaze.
If I want their help, I can’t be cagey. “The love of my life,” I admit.
Leanna’s eyes go sharp, curious. “Tell me about her.”
So I tell her about how Emma and I met in middle school, how we were friends first. I was this big, awkward, quiet kid, and she was bright, creative, steady. She always made me feel safe, as if I could be more than I was. As we grew older, our feelings deepened. We fell in love. We made plans. And then one day, she was just gone.
I keep talking, I tell her about my mom and her boyfriends, about the abuse I suffered.
I tell her about my dad leaving. About playing hockey in college, getting drafted. About moving and dealing with my dad’s bullshit. About his suicide.
I’m pretty sure Nik has already told her most of this, but she listens like she actually cares.
And even though I know Nik could probably snap a man in half for fun, I don’t get that vibe from Leanna. She seems warm. Safe. The way she holds her baby, the way she looks at me, there’s genuine kindness there.
When I’m done, she considers me for a moment before asking, “Do you know what I do for a living, Liam?”
I shake my head. I have a guess, but I’ll just keep my mouth shut.
