The room goes dead quiet.
I glance around at their faces. “Well,” I mutter, “from the silence I’m guessing that one made the list.”
“She’s kidding, Jax,” Sisk says, her voice too calm, too fast.
“Honestly? Nothing I haven’t considered myself,” I say, leaning back on my hands. “Trust me. The tar’s not a fan of that plan.”
A few uncomfortable looks pass around the room. Matt actually looks nervous.
Murtaugh claps his hands once, trying to wrestle back control of the conversation. “So. Step one: grandfather. As soon as possible.”
“Not tonight,” Sisk says.
Everyone turns toward her, including me.
“Why not?” I ask.
“It’s Tuesday.”
“So?” I say, completely lost.
She stares at me like I’ve completely lost my mind. “We have plans.”
I squint at her. “What plans?”
Sisk lowers her voice, leaning in. “The drug guy. Remember? Vic Danner. Down by the docks.”
Matt blinks. “The what guy?”
Lou leans forward instantly. “Oh, I’m interested now.”
“Please tell them your brilliant idea,” I rumble.
She ignores me completely. “Look. The Ash pops. The girls disappearing. The dealers flooding the streets.” She motions toward the city outside. “Tar City’s worse than when we were kids.”
No one argues with that. It’s a fact as solid as the concrete under my ass.
“My sister’s out there,” she continues, her voice losing its casual edge. “Her friends too.” Her voice hardens. “And I finally have a chance to do something about it.” She looks around the room, her gaze challenging every single one of them. “So I’m going.”
“I’m in,” Matt says immediately, raising his hand like a kid in class.
Lou nods, a serious look on his face. “Same.”
Viper just shrugs, a silent, deadly agreement.
I curse under my breath.This is a fucking disaster.
“No. Absolutely not,” I start.
Sisk’s already pointing at all of them. “This is my thing. It’s dangerous and I’m not dragging you fools into it.”
Viper smirks. “Little late for that.” She gestures around the bar. “Looks like we’re already involved.”
Sixty-Four
THEN | SISK
The hands slowly release me, but I can’t see a thing; it’s pitch black. I shove backward hard, elbow striking solid muscle. The body behind me doesn’t budge.
