Bishop pivots toward him, stance widening slightly. “Better than in the ground? Better than ten-to-twenty?”
“You don’t know that, man,” Gage counters.
Cruz clears his throat, gaze fixed on a point between them. “Depends on the fence. Madeline might bite.”
Bishop’s head snaps toward him, eyes narrowing to slits.
Cruz doesn’t flinch, just holds the stare.
“Who’s Madeline?” Lola’s fingers curl around her coffee cup, knuckles whitening.
“Coco and Madeline go back thirty years or so. If anyone is going to fence it, it’d be her,” Cruz says. “And lucky for us, Ma’s been having me handle most of those meetings with Madeline for a couple years now. If whoever hit us is working the same circles, we need to reach her first.”
Bishop’s throat works once. “She’ll take the risk?”
Cruz’s shoulder lifts a fraction of an inch. “She’ll take a meeting.”
The silence that follows speaks volumes.
Lola’s gaze darts between them, the rim of her nearly-empty coffee cup tap-tap-tapping against her thigh. “Well, I’m not seeing a better option than the fence who won’t immediately flip on us.” Her chin jerks toward the plastic bins. “Anyone else have a better idea?”
Rafe shakes his head, the muscle in his jaw flexing once, twice. “I don’t like it. But I don’t think it’s a bad idea to pose a hypothetical to Madeline either.”
Bishop exhales, the sound like air escaping a punctured tire. His fingers drum once against his thigh before going still. “Keep your ears to the ground. The chips are our first priority, but we’ll figure out who stole from us.” His gaze slides to Gage, lingering there. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Gage’s lips peel back from his teeth, a flash of white that doesn’t reach his eyes. Nothing like the warm curve he’d offered me an hour ago.
“I’ll hit up Madeline this morning,” Cruz offers, voice low, steady.
Lola catches my eye. Her right eyebrow arches a fraction of an inch, her head tilting toward Cruz.
I press my lips together, a knot forming between my shoulder blades.
She narrows her eyes, her chin dipping toward Cruz again, more insistent this time.
I nod at my sister and turn. “I’ll go with you.”
Gage’s boot scrapes concrete as he pushes off the counter. The air around him practically vibrates, and everyone else goes still, like prey animals sensing a predator. “So what about the rest of us,” he says, voice tight. “We’re sidelined again?”
Bishop’s posture doesn’t change. Not a single muscle shifts. “We lay low.”
Gage’s exhale whistles through his teeth. “And do what in the meantime?”
“Nothing. No jobs, no casing the casinos, nothing risky.”
Gage’s shoulders tighten, his fingers curling into loose fists at his sides. The words hit him like a physical blow, while the rest of us just watch.
“Guess I’ll sit here and count all the money we can’t use,” Gage drawls, glaring at his brother.
“Bells, we leave in ten minutes,” Cruz tells me, already reaching for his keys.
NINE
BELLAMY
Lola waitsfor me on the driveway, arms folded over her chest and sunglasses on even though the day is still only barely awake.
“Keep your eyes open.” The words are low, like she’s pressing the warning directly into my skin. “We don’t know if it’s an enemy or an opportunist.”
