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“I’m glad too,” I whisper. I’m waiting for reality to hit me, but right now? I’m not feeling much guilt. That man was terrible, and he treated Dean like shit for years. “You’re allowed to feel however you need to, baby.”

“Thanks. I love you, Mike.”

“Love you too, slut. Now get some rest like a good boy. I’ll make pancakes in the morning.”

“Mm. Ella will be happy.”

“And you won’t be?”

Dean’s sleepy chuckle is the only thing I hear before he sighs against me and goes to sleep.

EPILOGUE

Brennan

My text to Michael is short and sweet: It’s done

There’s a tumbler of whiskey by my hand. I pick it up and take a sip as I lean back and prop my feet on my desk, soaking in the late-night quiet.

Dean: Mike’s sleeping. I saw your text pop up on his phone. But thanks. Really. We owe you.

Brennan: Damn fucking right.

Look, I like to take care of my guys. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t call in favors for every single thing. But disappearing the body of Dean’s father? Fuck yes, I’m putting it on their tab.

Didn’t get to where I am by doing that kind of favor for nothing. Now that I think about it…

Brennan: Maybe the favor can be you and Michael keep on keeping on so I don’t have to lose two of my best earners.

Dean: We’re willing to do doubles. Any client who wants to watch, we’re there.

“Fuck.”

“Something wrong, boss?” Jalen, my guy Friday who also knows a lot of creative ways to kill people, looks over the top of my newspaper he’s been reading. I don’t know why I still get a newspaper. Old habits.

“Lost another couple of escorts, or at least they’ll be taking fewer jobs. Fucking pain in my ass.”

“You talking about the guys we took care of that body for? Just make them stay. They owe you now.”

Could I force them to continue? Sure. Jalen’s right. But escorts who aren’t into it fuck with my Yelp score, so to speak. Besides, I’ve got plenty of things I might need later, so I’m keeping those favors in my back pocket.

I’ve heard rumbles of someone trying to move in on my territory. I’m not young or dumb enough to think it won’t happen. It’s not even the first time.

There’s always a war after the war.

Jalen raises his eyes over the top of the paper, waiting on an answer.

“We’ll see,” I murmur.

There’s a knock at the door, and in walks Ryan, one of my hackers. Good. I’ve been waiting to talk to him.

“What’d you find?” I say instead of a greeting. Not that Ryan will care. He’s not big on social niceties.

He looks up from the tablet he’s been tapping on. “Just got an excellent deal on an original printing of—oh. That’s not what you meant.”

“Your fucking online auction purchases will never be what I meant. Never.”

Rather than being intimidated by my tone, Ryan only laughs. “Fair.”