“Everyone sit,” he said, voice low but commanding. The men obeyed, though not without exchanging glances. Razor snorted under his breath. Ink tried, and failed, to hide a grin.
Cyclops felt Trixie hovering behind him, uncertain. He reached back without looking and touched her waist briefly, guiding her to the seat beside his. She froze for a second and then moved to the chair. Ink’s brows shot up, and Cyclops knew that he wasn’t the only one wondering what was going on with him and Trixie.
Cyclops stayed standing at the head of the table. “We’ve got a problem,” he said. “And it’s bigger than we thought.”
“Define bigger,” Venom demanded. Cyclops glanced at Trixie. She straightened her back, her spine was ridged, but she kept her chin high.
“Trixie’s father isn’t just involved in the drug trade,” Cyclops said. “He’s moving kids. Young kids, and he’s trafficking them. A ripple of disgust and anger moved through the room.
Venom slammed his palm on the table hard enough to rattle the mugs that were sitting on top of it. “Kids? You’re shittin’ me.”
“No,” Trixie said quietly. “I wish I were.” Razor cursed, and Ink muttered something about putting bullets in kneecaps. They all looked genuinely ill.
Cyclops continued, “She’s got proof. Lots of it. And her father knows she does. That’s why he wants her alive, not dead.”
“He wants her back,” Razor said slowly, “because she can blow his whole operation sky-high.”
“Exactly,” Cyclops confirmed.
Ink whistled low. “Well, damn. You really know how to pick ’em, Cyclops.” Trixie stiffened. Cyclops leaned forward before she could say anything. He wasn’t about to let Ink make her feel as though she was less than perfect for him.
“She didn’t choose this. Her father put her in the crosshairs,” Cyclops growled.
“She’s still under our protection,” Venom pointed out, practical as always. “Scouts were sniffing around the fence last night, and that wasn’t just by chance.”
Cyclops nodded. “They were mapping out the compound, and I’m betting that they’ll be back.” A heavy silence fell over the men standing around them.
Trixie exhaled shakily. “You should let me go. This—this isn’t your fight.”
Cyclops turned toward her so fast she startled. “No.” She blinked up at him, and he knew that she was going to give him shit. That wasn’t what he needed right now because there was no argument valid enough to make him accept her leaving him.
Ink raised a brow as Venom leaned forward, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He didn’t miss the way that Razor mouthed oh shit, either. Cyclops ignored all of them and locked eyes with Trixie. “You don’t get to suggest walking back into your father’s world like that again,” he said. “Not here, and not while I’m breathing.”
Her lips parted. “Cyclops?—”
“You think running makes you safe?” he growled. “Running is what got you hunted in the first damn place.”
“That’s not fair—” she countered.
“No,” he cut in. “It’s not, but it’s true.” Trixie flinched—not from his volume, but from the honesty of his statement.
Cyclops softened his tone, but just barely. “We protect our own. And whether you like it or not, last night sealed that fate for you. What happened between us last night makes you mine. Plus, you’re under our roof. That makes you ours.” Trixie stared at him like she couldn’t decide whether to punch him or kiss him. Maybe she wanted to do both—and he was fine with that.
Venom cleared his throat. “So what’s the plan?” Cyclops forced himself to look away from Trixie and address the room.
“We fortify the north perimeter. I want double rotations. We set traps along the fence line—ink bombs and motion sensors need to be set in place.”
Ink grinned. “Got a box of fireworks we can repurpose.”
Razor perked up at the mention of fireworks. “Hell yeah.”
Cyclops continued, “We move Trixie to the safer wing. Only three brothers get access: me, Venom, and Ink.” Venom nodded his agreement.
Ink shrugged. “Fine by me. But if she stabs me in my sleep, I’m haunting you.”
Trixie muttered, “I only stab people who deserve it.”
Ink pointed at her, impressed. “See, you're kind of terrifying. I love it. You and my wife would get along great.” Cyclops shot him a glare, and Ink shut up.
