Snowflakes packed the sidewalks, crunching under my boots as I moved in step with River, Astor, and Darius, the way I had a hundred times before. Different countries. Different missions. Different stakes.
The rhythm was always the same though: squared shoulders, vigilant eyes. I kept my hands in my coat pockets, ready to draw my weapon. Those old habits didn’t fade just because the streets were pretty and mostly empty.
Our breath fogged the air, the sound of the city dulled beneath the snow, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to the unspoken understanding that came from walking beside people who knew you better than you knew yourself.
It was the result of years of working together on various rescue missions. Each one of us had our reasons for doing that job. Mine was to redeem myself for failing one specific woman.
“This cold is a violation of human rights,” River muttered beside me, tugging his collar tighter around his neck.
I let out a quiet laugh. “You say that every time it drops below forty.”
“Damn straight, give me fucking tropics. Not this white shit,” River retorted.
We met up first thing this morning in the lobby of my hotel to discuss some business related to Blackhawk Security, but I had to cut it short, so we were continuing our conversation on my way to meet the Ashfords and Kristoff Baldwin.
Darius’s sharp voice came from my left. “At least the coffee doesn’t taste like diesel here.”
“Debatable,” Astor said.
The four of us couldn’t be more different. We came from different backgrounds, different countries, and had different tastes. The only thing we had in common was our military background.
The three of them wore their hair longer—the rebellious result of years of buzz cuts—and that was where the similarities ended.
I started Blackhawk Security decades ago and these three were my first hires, but in the past ten years, I’d stepped back significantly and recently turned it over to them completely. I had my hands full running the Albanian criminal empire as well as the Cortes Cartel.
“Now tell me what brings you to DC,” I said calmly. “Besides me.”
River snickered. “I told you he’d see right through us.”
“It’s not like we’re good at social calls,” Astor clipped.
“Speak for yourself,” River replied. “I always bring the best gifts. People fucking love me.”
Darius cut them off.
“I swear to God, you two are like fucking children.” His eyes met mine and he continued in his no-nonsense voice. “We got a job that we aren’t sure whether to take.”
“For the first time ever, we seem to be in complete disagreement,”River commented, flashing a smile and revealing a set of perfect teeth. “We can’t even vote, because Darius refuses to make a decision one way or the other.”
“That should tell you something,” Darius said coldly.
“That it’s a yes?” Astor declared.
“Why don’t you start by cluing me in with the details,” I stated matter-of-factly, my breath fogging the air around me.
We passed rows of townhouses, lights glowing warm behind frosted windows. A couple walked past us, bundled up, and I caught the way they were trying not to stare. We didn’t look like tourists. We never did.
“The job involves a protection detail, but the individual’s family has ties to the Black Oil Syndicate.”
My steps halted and I turned to look at River, certain he was joking. However, his expression told me he was dead serious.
The Black Oil Syndicate was based in Texas, and the family who ruled it often dabbled in deals that weren’t always a hundred percent above board. On its own, that wasn’t an issue, especially considering my background. The problem was that they operated saloons with trafficked women from all over the world.Thatwas the reason we kept our distance.
Darius glanced at me. “I think everyone deserves to be considered.”
“Exactly what I’m saying!” Astor exclaimed.
“But?” I urged Darius to continue.
