“Ry—”
“Code names only,” I say sharply, cutting Nash off. “What we do ain’t legal. Go on, Angelo. What did Romeo have to say?”
The older Rossi swallows hard before he’ll look his son in the eyes. “He brought a man from the FBI with him. Special Agent Moss has been investigating me, and he has enough evidence to send me to prison for twenty years.”
“No…” Nash leans forward and takes his father’s hand in his. “Dad, I can’t lose you again.”
Angelo smiles. “‘Romeo’ knows people, son. Moss offered me a deal. Give up the ‘family business,’ help him shut down my suppliers, and I’ll only do a year.”
Nash studies his father, clearly wary. “And after that?”
I’ve worked with Ryker long enough to know exactly what he’d demand before he let the FBI anywhere near Angelo. The man has connections all the way to the White House.
“The Rossi name is a death sentence, son. But ‘Romeo’ offered me a new one.” Angelo’s exhausted. Each word is weaker than the last. But the hope in his eyes burns bright. “I lost twenty years with you. I’ll give up one more for the chance to see you again. To get to know the man you’ve become.”
“Dad…” Nash hugs his father, and both men start to cry. I slip out of the room so they can have a few minutes alone, and lean against the wall next to Graham.
“Did you know about the shit with the FBI?” I ask.
He nods. “It was Connor’s idea. Moss wanted to arrest Angelo on the spot.”
“When’s it gonna happen?”
Graham angles a glance at the nurses’ station. Two men in suits stand at the desk. “As soon as Nash leaves. Angelo won’t be released from the hospital for a week, but he’ll have round-the-clock protection.”
“We sure that’ll be enough?” While the doctors worked on Nash the previous night, Ryker went after DeLuca and his son. Their car flipped over on a sharp turn. In what would have been the textbook definition of poetic justice, the impact sparked a fire, but Hidden Agenda’s leader ain’t one for prolonging the inevitable. He shot them both in the head, then let their bodies burn.
Graham gives me an “Are you kidding?” look. “Tank’s sticking around for a few days. Long enough for Ry and Dax to make some calls and get a couple of guys they trust to take over.”
“I’m guessin’ you think I don’t know nothin’ from nothin’ now.”
Nudging my shoulder, Graham stares down at me. “I’ve been where you are, Raelynn. Remember?”
“Yeah. I do.” My first mission with Hidden Agenda was to rescue Graham’s boyfriend, Quinton. I was a stranger to him then. Hell, we’d gotten off on the wrong foot only days before, but he still trusted me when it counted. And last night, I finally returned the favor.
I swallow the lump swelling in my throat, and give the younger man a quick, one-armed hug. “Never got a chance to say thanks. For pullin’ Nash out of that building.”
We share a quiet moment, neither of us quite sure what to say, until Graham smiles. “That’s what we do.”
Nash
West hands me a brand new smartphone. “About time you upgraded to something made in this century,” he says. “Raelynn has your new number. Figured you’d want one local to Seattle.”
“What do I owe you?” As soon as I say the words, I regret them. First, because there’s no fucking way I can afford a brand new device, then, because West gives me a sideways glance and shakes his head.
“We buy them a case at a time.” Raelynn eases herself down on to the couch in the Five Points hotel suite. “You don’t want to know how many we go through in a year.”
“Where’s…everyone else?” I ask. Graham is at the window, texting, but Tank, Inara, and Ryker are nowhere to be seen.
West starts the hotel’s water kettle and spoons coffee grounds into a collapsible French press. “Ry’s on his way back to Seattle with Inara. Tank’s watching over your dad.”
I have so many questions, but the first one I have to ask is, “You brought a coffee press with you?”
Raelynn’s laugh soothes me like nothing else. “West is damn serious about his coffee, darlin’.”
“Tactical genius doesn’t happen without caffeine,” the former SEAL deadpans. “You two probably want to shower and sleep, but give me ten minutes first.”
“Only if you’re makin’ enough to share. I’ve been chewed up, spit out, and stepped on.”
