Page 71 of Cole

The man’s eyes flicked back to Gage as though he’d just noticed him standing directly behind me.

“Not unless you boys fuck things up.”

Maddox grunted. “Big words coming from a man with a late truck.”

“Enough,” I said, shooting Gage and Maddox a look before turning back to the man in front of me. “My people are clean. If anything goes wrong, it’s not on this end.”

“Of course, of course. We wouldn’t keep meeting with you if we didn’t believe in you, Cole.”

“Believe in me all you want,” I said. “I don’t trust anything until I have those guns in my hands.”

I heard Finn shifting from boot to boot again. The damn kid couldn’t keep still to save his life. I shot a look back at him. His hands were jammed in his pockets, and his jaw was working the way it did when he was trying to hold back a smart-ass remark.

My teeth clenched. One wrong word out of him and this whole deal could blow up in our faces.

I turned back to the man and realized he had noticed where my attention had gone. His eyes flicked past me and studied Finn.

“New face? You’re starting them on the bike young, aren’t you, Cole?”

“Not your concern,” I said.

Axel smirked at me, and it took everything I had not to punch it off his face.

“You keep a tight leash,” he continued.

“Tight leashes keep your dogs alive,” I said.

“Well, tight leash or not, we both want the same thing. A clean handoff and money in our pockets,” he responded.

“And yet,” I said, gesturing to the empty parking lot, “we’re still waiting, and there's still no truck.”

I let the silence hang in the air; the longer it stretched, the more he shifted. He tried not to show it, but the crease between his eyebrows became tighter and tighter as the seconds ticked by.

Then the low growl of a diesel engine broke the silence. The headlights parted the darkness and swept across the lot. The air brakes hissed like an exhausted exhale as the truck stopped in front of us.

Relief lessened the pressure building in my chest, but I didn’t let it show.

“And there is your proof,” he said, gesturing to the truck like it was a gift.

twenty-three

ISABELLE

The cold metal of the shipping container under my stomach made me shiver in the damp evening air. The metal was rough where the paint had peeled away, but I didn’t dare move and possibly give myself away. I could see almost everything. I couldn’t help but fixate on Cole’s broad shoulders and his chiseled profile. Gage and Maddox stood stock-still behind him, like they were his own private security, as well as a couple of other guys I didn’t know.

I watched as a man in a slick suit got out of one of the SUVs, the dull glow of the bike’s headlights illuminating him as he and his cronies walked over to Cole. I could hear every word that came out of their mouths. Every single incriminating word. I slowly moved my hand to my back pocket, sliding my phone out. My hands were shaking and slightly sweaty. I held my phone tight, terrified to let it clatter onto the container below me. I pulled it to my chest and used my arms to block the illuminated screen as I entered my password with trembling hands. If this meeting was going to go sideways, shouldn’t I call the cops?

“The only thing I care about is the steel showing up where it's supposed to when it’s supposed to.” I heard Cole’s voice loud and clear.

“The steel will be here. Don’t you worry,” a sharp voice replied. The suit guy.

Guns. They had to be talking about guns. I had stumbled right into an illegal gun trade meeting. This should have been thrilling for me to witness. It was all the proof I could ever hope for, wrapped in a pretty little bow. My story was unfolding right in front of me. But none of that mattered anymore. All I could think about was that Cole might get hurt, or Finn. This was Rosie’s worst nightmare, happening right in front of my eyes, and I was powerless to stop it. If I called the cops, wouldn’t the Hounds be in trouble too?

Then I glanced at the corner of my screen.

The little battery icon mocked me as it turned from yellow to red. Ten percent battery life left. My stomach dropped. What if it died before I could call the cops? Should I call them? The agonizing indecision twisted in my chest as I watched the scene.

Then the sound of a semitruck cut through the quiet of the night.