“Still useful.”
Edge looked at me.
This time, there was no murder in it.
Not suspicion either.
There was something worse.
A father measuring the man who had carried his daughter out of the dark and now stood there offering to follow her into hiding.
“I don’t like it,” Edge said.
“I wouldn’t either,” I answered.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Good.
Honesty worked better than comfort with men like him.
“I’m not asking because I want a vacation,” I said. “I’m asking because JD’s right. Your people can’t go. Callum can’t go. You sure as hell can’t go. Nate and I can get close without looking like protection.”
“And if something happens?” Edge asked.
“Then it happens to us before it gets to them.”
Regan inhaled sharply.
Edge didn’t move.
Callum watched me like he heard more than the words.
I had said too much.
Or maybe exactly enough.
JD stepped into the space before Edge could. “This is the play. Edge stays here. River and Tank manage the local fallout. Tarak handles the bike and whatever ghosts he needs to beat back with his bare hands. Callum keeps San Diego clean but available. Regan and Destiny disappear to Cal’s ranch first, then Houston noise, then Cabo once Doc clears movement.”
He pointed at Nate and me.
“You two go to Cabo separately or slightly ahead, depending on timing. Same resort, different booking. College guys. Harmless. Loud enough to be remembered but not enough to get arrested. You flirt. You drink fake drinks. You sit near the pool and listen. You watch for anyone watching Regan and Destiny.”
Nate raised his hand. “Can my drinks be real?”
“No,” Callum, JD, and I said at the same time.
Nate looked offended. “This assignment has no respect for morale.”
River rubbed his temples. “I hate every part of this plan.”
JD turned to him. “Good. That means you understand it.”
Regan looked at me then.
Really looked.
Not like a mother deciding whether I was safe.
