Briggs slanted an irritated look his way. “That isn’t what this is about.”
“Am I wrong?” Thatch challenged.
Briggs had been about to continue, but exhaled slowly instead. Tapping a finger on the table a few times, he shifted his hand to his tablet before relenting, “No.”
Thatch smirked proudly just as Rush added, “There aren’t many people who can best us,” in a solemn tone, “the world knows that. But this is themafiawe’re talking about and dealing with. Where the scales tip in their favor is their lack of morals.”
“Exactly,” Briggs easily took over for him. “So, again, it isn’t about whether we can take the family every other mafia family is afraid of—there’s no question about that. It’s that we can’t get too confident in who we are and what we can do because we don’t work the same way any of them do.
“Now,” he went on without giving anyone a chance to respond, “ARCK sent a lot of information that I honestly don’t wanna know how they got.” But even as Briggs said the words—even with all that talk about lack of morals—a whisper of amusement and respect flashed across his face. “Rush and Thatch, study the blueprints for the club until you can get in and out in your sleep.”
Thatch clapped his hands and lowered his feet from where they’d been propped up on the table. Rush didn’t stop nodding or writing.
“Evans and I will start wading through the information on the known members of the family, and figure out their method for acquiring and distributing everything they’re trafficking—starting with women,” Briggs continued, then waited for Evans to nod. With a sigh, he glanced from Mallory to me.
And I stilled.
Because I knew that look he was giving me, like he was preparing himself for my reaction to what he’d say next.
“Monroe, it’s a good thing you decided to come back,” Briggs muttered without taking his stare off me. “Because the members of this new family are all men.”
“No,” I said vehemently.
Stunned offense burst from the woman across from me at my refusal. “Excuse me?”
“She just needs to get one talking,” Briggs added, nearly forcing me from my seat. “We need to know where they’re keeping the women they’re trafficking.”
Rage and fear burned through me in an instant. “No.”
“You’ll be going in as backup. You’ll be able to pull her out if things go south,” Briggs said to pacify me, as if that could when he was sending her in to do who knew what with mafia—new, unfamiliar mafia.
My stare snapped to Mallory. “Absolutely not.”
“And why not?” she demanded, looking outraged that I’d even think to argue against this. And I hated that I couldn’t even revel in the fact that the Mallory everyone knew wasbackbecause I was so consumed by the horrifying thought Briggs had just forced onto me.
I lifted my hands as if it should’ve been obvious. “Theysteal women. Theysell women. I’m not letting you walk into that cluband up to known mafia members. I’m not letting you flirt with them or whatever else Briggs had in mind toget them talking.”
Briggs may have started responding—clarifying—but I was too focused on the lift of Mallory’s brow before she said, “You aren’tletting me?”
An edgy laugh bled from me.
“And how exactly do you plan on stopping me?” she challenged, looking so infuriated and beautiful, that I wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and kiss her. Fight with her. Just pull her into my arms again because I could.
“However I need to, Peach.” I lifted a shoulder. “I’d chain you to this table if I thought it’d work.”
Her eyes flared with promised fury, and my mouth twitched in response. “I’ll murder you.”
“Such a violent princess.”
She smacked a hand on the table as she seethed, “Stop calling me that! And don’t think calling me those ridiculous names will make me forget what’s really happening here. You can’t just decide what I can and cannot do,” she claimed, her voice rising with each word. “You can’t stop me from doing my job, just the same as I can’t stop you.”
“I can if it means keeping my wife from sex traffickers,” I snapped back.
A sharp, bitter scoff left her. “Good to know I’m suddenly incapable of handling myself around big, scary men.” Her head slanted in warning. “Have you always thought that?”
“I’ve never thought that, Mallory. I neversaidthat,” I said more calmly than before. “But don’t—” The words caught in my throat, and I had to struggle to swallow past the sudden knot there. “We just established these men don’t have morals. Not to mention, they look for women like you. Don’t put me in a position to potentially lose you.”
All her anger faded as her gaze dropped to my shoulder before meeting mine again as if to saySame.
