Page 88 of Striker’s Rebel

Then Striker turns to me.

“June.”

“I’m okay.”

He’s already checking anyway. My face, my throat, my shoulders.

“Did he hurt you?”

“My ribs are going to hate me tomorrow.”

“Smoke?”

“Some. I’m fine.”

His jaw locks before he pulls me against him.

That’s when I feel his hands shaking.

I hold on tighter.

Grim comes closer once Riot has Munn secured.

“We got every bottle.”

“All of them?”

“All of them. Riot got Jamie talking.”

Something in Grim’s expression tells me Jamie did not enjoy that conversation.

Good.

“He gave up the storage pickup and the contact he was using,” Grim continues. “Hound followed it from there. Lock tied the vehicles, Northline, and the staging access back to Colonel Adrian Munn.”

I look toward Munn.

Colonel.

Of course.

“And Jamie?”

Grim’s mouth goes cold.

“After Riot finished with him, he went to the cops. Theft, conspiracy, assault. Eliana gave them a statement about the beating.”

A small, vicious piece of satisfaction settles in my chest.

Good.

Jamie can spend a long time explaining himself to people who don’t love his excuses.

“And Vale?” I ask.

“Alive. And he knows enough about Munn to reopen the whole damn thing properly.”

So that’s it.