Tech nods his blond head. The twenty-something with the clean-shaven, baby face would seem out of place if it wasn’t for his cut and the full sleeves that give him an edge.
“I think so, but only because I’m better than whoever they have keeping feelers out.” Tech leans back and rolls his neck. The cracks make me twitch.
Grimm turns to look at me.
“I get it,” I whisper hoarsely.
“Do you?” he throws back.
“Yes. You won’t have any more issues from me.” I hold my hands up in surrender.
“I’m holding you accountable for that,” Grimm says in a gravelly tone that belies his irritation.
“I know—”
“Not you.” Grimm shakes his head and nods toward Preacher.
“I understand.”
The tension around Preacher’s eyes makes my stomach flip. Is he standing up for me to his president?
Grimm holds his gaze. “You sure?”
Preacher nods.
I glance back and forth between them; I try to pick up on their underlying silent conversation. What does this mean?
“I think we need to consider relocation—”
“What does that mean?” I ask. Is this code for taking me out?
An alarm blares.
“This week keeps on giving,” Grimm says as he rushes from the room.
“What’s happening?” I ask as we jog out behind him.
“We’ve got a breach,” Preacher yells over the noise as we enter the main room in total organized chaos. Men are moving around the building with purpose.
Lights flash, and I blink, blinded by the display.
“Raid,” someone yells.
Steel clangs, tires squeal over blacktop, and alarms blare.
“Shit. Law’s coming by.”
The action doubles, and Preacher sits me at a table. “Whatever happens, stay here unless the police tell you otherwise."
“What if they’re looking for me?” I whisper.
He squeezes my arm. “We’ll cross that road when we get to it.”
“Go,” I whisper, knowing he has a role to play as well. My heart leaps in my throat as a loud knock pounds on the door, and Grimm walks over to answer.
“Afternoon, officers. What brings you all to my organization today?”
“Cut the crap, McTavish We have a warrant for your arrest.”