Finn froze, as his mind rushed.Who was Bob’s cousin?And had Red just confessed to something like murder?
Then Red stepped back, his hands flexing like he wanted to hit something but didn’t.
Finn held his breath behind the truck.Now he saw it.Not just panic or shame, but the deadly kind of violence that filled prison cells.
But then a thought whispered effectively capturing Finn’s attention, enough to make his heart squeeze…
They didn’t just know Taryn was going back to Canberra—Red and his crew were counting on it!
Her presence, or exit, was now part of their plan.The excuse to pause their smuggling operation, just long enough for Taryn to report to Canberra on the job she’d been sent here to do—to assess the Stock Squad and decide in a month whether it stayed or shut down.
The same timeframe Red had just told Bob to stand down for.
No more Stock Squad.No more Finn.
The realisation hit like a fist to the ribs, leaving something hollow and sick in its place.
He’d been so focused on baiting Red, on making him crack by using Tooley as the tool, Finn hadn’t seen the bigger play where he himself had been used asthe bait.
He’d been fighting against Taryn from the start, guarding the squad, while treating her like a threat.All while Red and his master just stood back as Finn bulldozed through everything, like they knew he would.
They’d expected him to ignore the Fed, to never answer her questions, to piss her off so completely that of course she’d file a report that would bury the Stock Squad for good.Which is exactly what they wanted.
Finn clenched his jaw, the taste of bile and shame thick in his throat.
They’d played him like a green recruit.
And now they had a month to vanish, while Finn stood in the wreckage, looking like the fool who had helped shut down his own squad.
Had Taryn known?
Or had they played her, too?
That thought hit harder than the rest.
The man who’d spent most of his time avoiding her questions, was now itching to ask her the one question that could change everything:Who sent you?
Twenty-four
Finn closed the front door behind him with a quiet click.
But nothing felt quiet.Not with his pulse hammering in his ears, and his teeth clenched so tight his jaw ached.He shouldn’t have let her in.Not into his house.Not into his team.And not into his head.
She was the Fed.
The weapon they’d sent to gut his squad from the inside, the polite executioner in a smart suit.To shut him down.
And he’d let her get close.
Hell, he’d fought her, barked and bristled and shoved back.But he’d still let her in.Trusted her.
Dammit, he’d kissed her!
And now look where they were.
He strode down the hallway like a man ready to break something.
Who sent you?The words burned in his throat.
