“That’s why I need your help, Cami. These are good people, and they’re being taken advantage of. If we can take out the woman holding this over their heads, then we’d have a powerful ally on our side.”
I leaned against the open door, listening, trying to figure out what level of danger we were in.
“I don’t know, Nat. This is a big ask. I left that lifestyle behind.”
“What about Pixel, then?”
“She went back home for something. What do you see happening?” Loren asked, and I smiled with pride that she was keeping the conversation on track.
Before I could hear a response, the two goofs I’d left outside found me. “Sax, I’m sorry, okay. I wasn’t trying to make light of anything. Please, just come back and hear what we have to say.”
I glanced over, taking in Beau and Byron’s stances. They seemed sincere, but it was hard to wrap my head around what was happening here. Peeking back in the room, I found Loren watching me. As always, she seemed to know what I needed from her and nodded at me. Sighing, I turned and followed the guys out.
Byron went back to the grill, and I noticed some other people were out there now mingling around. I followed Beau to the pool table, and he handed me a stick, nodding to the other people in greeting.
“What is this place?” I asked, not moving until he told me something.
“It’s the O’Sullivans’ main residence.”
“So, your mission?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“Success. They’re clean, or at least when it comes to Dayton.”
Something in me relaxed at the news. It couldn't be as bad if it was something other than Dayton. “So, why the secrecy? Are you guys staying? You seem pretty homey.”
I took the chalk this time, moving it across the tip as he racked the balls. “No, man. We’re Mascros for life. But I can’t deny it hasn’t been nice to be away from the city and everything that entails. I’m sorry, though, if it seemed insensitive. Things are so much more laid-back out here. There isn’t the same rush to get things done or fear that someone will beat you to something.”
“If it’s not Dayton, then what is it?”
“Nat will explain. She wanted to be the one to tell the girls since she needed their help.”
“And what are we then?”
“Arm candy.” He beamed, bending over to strike the white ball. The solid and striped balls scattered at his hit, going in every direction. A solid purple ball banked into a corner pocket, and he smirked over at me, thinking he had it. He hit two more in before missing, then it was my turn. Slowly, I bent over the table, lining up my balls, and systematically sank all of them, leaving only the black 8-ball.
“Fuck,” Beau cursed, causing me to smile wider. Glancing up, I pointed to the corner pocket.
“8-ball, corner pocket.” Keeping my eyes on him, I hit the white ball and heard the satisfying sound of the balls making contact as it sailed across the felt before dunking into the pocket. Standing, I walked over and placed my stick on the wall, leaning against it.
Beau hung his head, laughing. “Shit, man. I forgot how good you were at this. Come on, steaks should be ready. You can hear it all from them.”
Grunting, I walked with him over to the table by the pool, already laden with food. The girls had come outside and were talking together with another woman. Seeing Loren, I walked over, wrapping my arms around her from behind. She leaned back, not breaking her stride but letting me hold her.
“Ah, this must be one of your men,” the older woman said, eyeing me.
I raised an eyebrow, not caring to respond. If Spitfire wanted to, she could, but we didn’t owe this person anything as far as I was concerned.
“Brianna, this is Saxon, one of my husbands.” She peered back at me, smiling. I loved hearing her say those words. We stared at one another for a moment, lost in each other’s eyes.
“Ah, yes. I remember those days. Come, let’s eat.”
Loren moved her head back, acknowledging the woman, and we followed them over to the table that was full of others now. Nat and Cami sat with Byron and Beau, but the two seats left were near the head of the table where Brianna was seated. She motioned to them, and I took the hint, pulling out the chair for Loren.
“Thank you for agreeing to listen to us, Mrs. Mascro. I know that you don’t owe us anything. Nat was kind enough to offer, but I told her we couldn’t ask that of you.”
“It sounds like you need help, though,” Loren said, taking a sip of her drink.
“You’re not wrong, but with the war coming, you have enough on your plate,” the woman said, taking her fill of food before passing it over. The rest of the occupants were quiet as they handed food from one person to the next. Several of them eyed us, but none appeared hostile. It was more of a weariness, like they’d grown tired of whatever fight they were in.