“Oliver. Your men have the info they need.” His voice carried warning under the polite acknowledgment. “We done here?”
“For now.” Oliver’s smile never wavered, but his eyes stayed on me. “I was just telling your lovely companion about the upcoming festivities. I do hope she’ll grace us with her presence.”
“We’ll be there.”
“Excellent.” Oliver stepped back, but his gaze lingered on me like a physical touch. “You’ll do the weapons inventory later? Report to me on quality and suggested prices?”
Coop nodded. “I’ll make sure you’re not getting cheated.”
“Good. I had no doubt I could count on you. This Gathering will be the best yet.”
Coop’s arm stayed tight around me as he led me away from the training ground, back toward the cabin. I could feel Oliver’s eyes following us the entire way, tracking our movement like a predator who’d marked his prey.
The weight of that stare followed us all the way back, a promise and a threat wrapped in sophisticated packaging. The Gathering suddenly felt less like a party and more like stepping into a trap.
And the worst part was, we had no choice but to walk right in.
Chapter 10
Coop
The cabin door closed behind us with a soft click that sounded like a prison cell lock. I kept my arm tight around Mia’s waist, fingers possessive against her hip, maintaining the act for whatever cameras were watching. She stayed pressed against me, playing her part perfectly, even though I could feel the tension vibrating through her body like a struck wire.
When I’d looked over and seen Oliver standing with her, I’d wrapped up my demonstration as quickly as possible. Mia was smart and I trusted her, but Oliver… The way he’d looked at her—like a collector examining a rare specimen he planned to pin to a board. My skin still crawled from watching him lean in close, whispering something that made her go rigid before I’d gotten there.
I steered her toward the bathroom, the only place in this hellhole where we had any privacy. Closing the door, I immediately turned on the shower, cranking it to full blast.
“What did Oliver say to you?” I kept my voice low, barely above the sound of running water. “When I was finishing with the weapons demonstration. Anything I should know about?”
Mia’s shoulders dropped a fraction, some of the performance falling away now that we were alone. “Nothing concrete. Asked what I did for a living. And then some stuff about the Gathering. That he has something nice for me to wear. It was creepy.”
“Yeah, creepy as shit.” The words tasted sour. Oliver being Oliver meant calculating exactly how to destroy someone for maximum entertainment value. “Nothing specific about plans?”
“No. But the way he looked at me…” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Like he was already imagining something. Planning something.”
“I know.” I moved closer, keeping my voice at whisper level. “Listen, I need to get as much data as I can while we’re here. Since Oliver wants me to do weapons inventory today. I’ll photograph serial numbers, create detailed records for the federal task force. Get any information I can about the buyers coming in for the Gathering. Then the feds can decide when and where to raid, how to take Oliver down without collateral damage.”
She nodded, processing. “And I’m coming with you?”
“Yes.” There was no fucking way I was leaving her alone. I studied her face, saw the exhaustion she was fighting. “You’re doing so well, Mia. I know you didn’t sign up for this. Christ, I wish I could get you out right now, today, but?—”
“I’m okay.” She straightened, that steel spine I’d always loved showing through. “I’m scared, but I’m okay. We do what we have to do.”
Before I could respond, someone pounded on the cabin door hard enough to rattle the frame.
“Shit.” I turned off the shower. “Stay close to me.”
We emerged from the bathroom to find Snake standing in our main room, having let himself in. His dead eyes tracked over Mia with the kind of interest that made me want to put my fist through his skull. At least he didn’t seem to notice that we weren’t wet or wrapped in towels.
“Oliver wants the inventory done,” Snake said, his voice flat as roadkill. “It’s ready now.”
“Fine by me. Sooner I catalog his toys, sooner I can line up buyers.”
“I’m supposed to watch you.” Snake’s expression made it clear how he felt about that assignment. “Make sure you don’t get curious about things that ain’t your business.”
“Babysitting duty?” I let mockery creep into my tone. “Thought Oliver trusted me. Or is this your idea?”
Snake’s hand drifted toward his knife, a habitual threat. “Oliver trusts bullets and bank accounts. Everything else is just conversation. Let’s go.”
