“So that means…” I let my words trail off as I tilt my head, letting my gaze travel slowly from Bishop to Gage, then to Rafe, to Cruz, before settling back on Bishop with deliberate precision. “You were outvoted.”
Something hot and dark flares behind his eyes. And God help me—some deep, unwise part of melikesit. The little flicker of temper. The way my words slip under his skin like they’re hunting for bone.
It’s satisfying, dangerously so.
The reaction in the room is immediate.
Cruz's mouth twitches at the corner, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he glances at the floor. Rafe goes still, his gaze fixed on me with the focused intensity of someone watching a chess opponent make a move. Gage’s lips twitch, too, but he hides it by folding his arms, schooling his face back to blank. Beckett lets out a soft sound, almost a laugh, and even Lola's expression softens—the corners of her mouth twitching before she clamps it down again.
Bishop’s glare stays on me, but I hold it, holding myself steady and unbothered as I let the silence deepen. I’ve seen scarier things than a pissed-off Calloway.
“Votes don’t mean shit until Coco weighs in,” Bishop says.
“She’ll vote yes once she hears the take,” Gage says.
I straighten up and fold my arms across my chest. “Right. And what doyouthink the take is?”
Because I already know what Lola’s early recon suggested. Jewelry and cash mean fast turnover and high profit. The soundboards are heavy and slow to move, but Marty already has two buyers lined up, so those are a priority too. Our fence near Appleton will take the smaller equipment and merch without hesitation.
Three people limit the haul. But four more bodies change the equation entirely.
As much as I loathe to admit it, more manpower changes everything. With their muscle and coordination, we can move so much more. Lola’s early estimate of three-quarters of a million dollars suddenly becomes possible.
Gage glances at Cruz, then Rafe, then finally Bishop, like he’s daring him to contradict it. “Considering the festival timeline and the inventory rotation.” He shrugs once. “Mid-six figures. Easy.”
Lola' s shoulders tense as she leans forward. Beside me, Beckett's breath catches, then releases with a harsh “Shit” that barely disturbs the sudden silence.
Gage's eyes lock onto mine, catching the twitch at the corner of my mouth I couldn't suppress. “Yeah. So now that we’re all on the same page, I think we’d make a hell of a team.”
Bishop drags a hand across his jaw, posture rigid, shoulders drawing even tighter beneath that fitted surf-brand tee. “You better be right about this.”
“Oh, I am,” Gage answers without hesitation. “And it only works if we’re in it together.”
Cruz pushes off the wall, palms sliding into his pockets as his gaze sweeps between all of us. “So what’s next?”
Every head turns to me, and six sets of eyes pinning me to the spot.
Heat crawls up the back of my neck, and I resist the urge to wipe at it with the heel of my hand. I square my shouldersinstead. “We finish recon. On our terms. If we’re going to cut it eight ways, then we’re going to take it all.”
I make a mental note to go over Lola’s assumed inventory, see what else we can add to our list.
Gage nods immediately, like he’s been waiting for that exact answer. “Agreed. And I’m in. I’ll go with you. Build trust, keep things clean, all that.” The grin he gives me is pure trouble.
“Absolutely not,” Bishop snaps before I can respond. “You and her in a car for days? No. Last thing we need is you two fucking around and missing a security rotation.”
16
BELLAMY
I blink once,slow and deliberate, and decide Bishop Calloway has just crossed a line he doesn’t know how to step back from. “Wow.”
Cruz lets out a low laugh that sounds like he’s delighted by this turn of events. “Jesus, Bishop.”
Gage bristles, stepping forward. “That’s not?—”
“Save it,” Bishop cuts him off, sharp. “We’re not risking a federal sentence because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”
I blink. Hard.
