I sit down at my console, fingers flying over the keyboard, pulling up the next target file just to give my brain something to focus on that isn’t Lark’s mouth.
“She’s Gage’s little sister,” I say under my breath.
“Uh-huh,” Arrow replies.
“She’s off-limits.”
Arrow nods like he isn’t buying it. “Sure.”
“I’m not touching that.”
Ozzy snorts. “Keep telling yourself that, big guy.”
I scowl at the screen.
Lark’s right.
I hate that she’s right.
We leave trails. We leave loose ends. We don’t always finish. If she really can help us close those gaps, I’d be an idiot not to use her. But as I watch the security feed of her walking down the block, spinning her bat and smiling like she just won a prize, one horrible, inescapable thought hits me?—
I’m not sure who’s hunting who anymore.
And I have a sinking feeling…
I’m the one being stalked.
By my best friend’s little sister.
In combat boots.
With a bat.
And God help me, I’ve never wanted to be prey so badly in my life.
SIX
STAY IN THE CAR (ABSOLUTELY NOT)
LARK
Some people pregame with shots.
I pregame with felonies.
“Run it one more time,” I say, peering over Knight’s shoulder at the screen. The Riverside Ops room is dim, lit mostly by monitor glow and a crappy floor lamp Arrow dragged in from a thrift store.
Knight exhales, annoyed. “You’ve seen the briefing twice.”
“Maybe I like hearing your voice,” I say. “It’s so soothing when you’re threatening people.”
His eye ticks.
Worth it.
On the main monitor is our target for tonight: Diego Vale, logistics manager for a big shipping firm with a side hustle in trafficking humans for the highest bidder. Arrow’s labeled himPROJECT SILKin the file header. His crimes scroll on one sideof the screen—routes, flagged cargo, missing persons reports that line up a little too perfectly with his shipments.
“Vale runs his private business out of the back office of that ‘import’ warehouse,” Knight says, tapping the satellite image. “He meets middlemen there. Tonight he’s got a buyer flying in.”
