Tripoli rolled his eyes and headed out of the booth.
Once outside, Triumph dove right in. “What is it?”
“Before you get all excited, she already knows all of this. It’s why I brought her down before she could text you. I went up to tell her. Hammerling called. Cosmos’ guys managed to drive off Guillermo, but not before they’d begun a ‘conversation’ with Glennon’s parents. They didn’t know where she was, obviously, but somehow, they figured out she’s here. They filed a flight pattern on their private jet to San Antonio International.”
“Why not tell us together?”
“Because I was worried how you would react in front of her. I wasn’t sure you’d hold your shit together.”
“Well, as you can see, I am. Fuck!” He ran a hand through his hair. “How did she take it?”
“Unemotionally, which I’m not sure I like, but I don’t know if that’s how she normally is or if she’s packing that shit down in order to not lose it altogether.”
“She doesn’t get rattled easily,” Triumph told him. “Do we know the goon squad’s ETA?”
“Hammerling has run some interference. That guy’s all right after all.”
Tripoli flipped his phone in Triumph’s direction and pressed play on a video. On it, two mechanics and the pilot stood under the nose of the plane. At their feet, they had easily twenty-five separate parts lying on the ground.
“Here comes my favorite part.” Tripoli snickered.
Triumph’s eyes went back to the video, and he barked out a laugh as the two mechanics looked at each other, shrugged, then began to put the engine back together again. If he saw that, it would keep him from getting on that jet.
“Not surprisingly, they’re going to put some parts back wrong. The pilot is going to taxi, then abort due to ‘mechanical issues.’ By the time they get it back up and running, it’s going to be after eleven, which is the private airport’s curfew. It’ll open up again at six a.m. Hammerling will try to slow them down a bit—put them down in the queue to take off—but it won’t be much. We can expect them here by late afternoon. On the low end, it’s a three-and-a-half-hour flight. If we get lucky, four and a half.”
“Got it. So she’s safe for tonight, but tomorrow…”
“Tomorrow night is a whole other ball game. Cosmos recalled everybody he could from his crew. They’re on their way from Chicago. Cruz has called in as many of his friends as he can. We’ll have the crazy cousins hanging out incognito inside the club. Quint is going to do drive-bys when he can, maybe hang out close by, but he’s on duty tomorrow night.”
“Tonight, she needs to let loose a little. Tomorrow, I’ll keep her upstairs until this is resolved. She’ll hate it, but she’ll do it.”
“I saw the notification go off and got your text. You showed her the panic room.”
“Yep, she’s good.”
Tripoli paused. “So…” He drew out the word, not finishing the thought.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Here it came.
He played stupid to see what Tripoli’s tactic was going to be. “So?”
“Beautiful woman.”
“Yes, there are a lot of them downstairs tonight.”
Tripoli punched his arm. “Glennon, you fuckstick. You know exactly who I meant.”
Good-naturedly, he grinned. “Yes, I did. And yes, she is.”
“Resilient.”
“Definitely.”
“Submissive.”
Triumph squinted at him. “And you know this because…?”
“Radar.” He paused again. “She’s like you.”
