Smoke looks at Bolt. “It will be up to you to get you both outta there.”
Bolt’s eyes rest on me. “I’d like her outta their way before the video starts.”
“Oh, no, I plan on being up front and center. No way I’m missing the look on my father’s face.”
Bolt’s head tilts slightly. “You sure about that?”
Smoke doesn’t look away from me. “I get it.” A beat. “If something shifts—she’ll see it first.”
Bolt studies me for a long second. “You freeze,” he says quietly, “this goes sideways real fast.”
I turn to face him. “I won’t.”
“Alright.”
Smoke straightens. Decision made.
“Clean. Quiet. Controlled.” I add, almost under my breath, “—Until it’s not.”
Smoke taps the table one last time. “We hit him where it hurts.”
My eyes flick to the map. “His reputation will never recover, and to a man like my father—that will beworse than death.”
Bolt’s gaze sears through me. Not questioning it anymore. Not doubting.
“Let’s fuckin’ get this done.” Bolt shoves his fist over the center of the table. The others follow, and I step back.
Smoke jerks his chin at me. I hesitate, then join them.
“Club First. Respect and Honor,” Smokes says, and we all tap fists.
CHAPTER 14
NICOLETTA
We all file out, and the men look at me with new admiration. Before this, I was just another woman they thought did Bolt wrong, but now their eyes tell a different story.
Like their own women, I’ve proven I’m tougher than they probably expected, especially with their preconceived notions of what I’m about.
I expect Bolt to join the others at the bar. Honestly, I wish he would. The whole planning session took more out of me than I expected, and right now, I’m beat, but it’s more than that or the stress of what we’re about to do.
It’s about my father—a man I’ve known all my life—becoming not only a stranger, but a monster. A man who would abuse young, desperate women looking for shelter and a better life, then use their weakness against them.
My parents were always distant, like I was an extra accessory they didn’t need, but finding out this about the man I called Dad is past devastating—it’s shattering.
I head for the back stairs without looking behind me or seeing where Bolt is going. The only piece left of this finelytuned plan is contacting my mother and telling her to stay at the spa a few more days. She doesn’t deserve to be embroiled in this chaos, especially since I’m sure she wasn’t aware of anything more than my father having affairs.
I pull open the heavy metal door leading to the stairwell, and a hand reaches over my head and pulls the door wider. “You look beat.” His voice is low and weary.
I gaze up into his hardened face. “So do you.” He nods toward the stairs, but I don’t move. “You don’t have to babysit me. Go hang out with the others.”
“If I wanted to hang out at the bar, I would.” He moves forward, and I have no choice but to climb the stairs.
We reach the landing, then quietly go down the hallway and into his apartment. He closes and locks the door behind us, and I turn to him, trapped with so many emotions skittering through my mind.
Bolt nods to the couch. “Sit. I think we could both use a drink.”
He heads for the kitchen, and a few minutes later, he returns with two tumblers of Jack Daniels.
