Vowing to push away the 'what-ifs,' at least for now, Tristan sighed again and grasped at Cade's hand on his thigh.
"What else do you need? What can I do?"
"I'm okay. I'm just so freaking tired."
"Okay, then. Rest while I take care of these bastards, then I'll bring you to your sister."
Tristan's eyes snapped open again. "Oh, you mean... "
Cade's face hardened, and his eyes glinted with ruthless determination. "I promised you I'd make them pay for what they did, and I will."
Setting his jaw, Tristan said, "Okay. Do what you need to do."
"I will. They'll never hurt anyone again," Cade promised as he grazed his lips over Tristan's knuckles.
From across the room, Tristan heard someone clear their throat. Both he and Cade turned to see Tag standing in the doorway to the garage, looking annoyed.
"Ready?" Tag asked.
"Yeah, are the other guys gone?" Cade asked, apparently choosing to ignore the other man's irritated expression.
"Yep, just left."
"Where did they go?" Tristan asked.
"They rode with the driver to the drop point to see if they can grab the Gem Collector or his people."
"How are they going to do that? The Handler said to show me before they made the transfer."
Tag's voice dripped with disgust, like the words themselves personally offended him. "They put Rodriguez in a red wig."
"Oh my god, for real?" Tristan said, chuckling.
One side of Cade's mouth turned up, and he cupped Tristan's jaw. "Rest now. Let me do this for you."
"Okay," Tristan agreed, letting the smile fade. Once Cade joined Tag, he lay on his back with his hands folded on his stomach. Hearing voices from the garage, he peeked over and realized the door was partially open.
Oh, god, was he going to be able to hear everything? Did he want to?
Tristan debated for a few heartbeats and decided he did want to listen, at least at first. If it got too bad, if he didn't want to hear any more, he could close the door or move into another room. He stared at the ceiling, concentrating on the low voices to make out what they were saying.
When Cade spoke, the cold, menacing tone unsettled him.
"So, here's the deal. There is no scenario where you walk out of here alive. You have two choices. You answer our questions, and we'll put you down easy with a bullet between your eyes. You don't cooperate, and well... My friend and I have lots of sharp, pointy objects, and sometimes we get clumsy, and oops, there goes an ear or a finger or a dick. Understand?"
There were low murmurs that Tristan couldn't decipher, and then Cade's voice rang out again, clipped and businesslike.
"Which one of you is theHandler? What's the status of your operation?"
"It's shut down." Tristan recognized Pearface's voice, but it was now thin and reedy.
"Completely?"
"Yeah."
"Where do you keep your records? Client list? Transactions?"
"The Broker had all that stuff."
