Page 54 of Mr. Match

“Well,” Mac says with a slight laugh. “I guess you’re part of them too now, Shrike. Because like it or not, you’ve been doing their dirty work for a decade. Your fingerprints are all over this bullshit. And how much do you want to bet that they’re setting you up for a real big fall right now?”

I don’t take that bet. Just nod my head and agree. “So tell me what to do about it. Because if I go down, you go down too.”

They all look at me like I just threatened them. Even Pax, which kinda hurts since he is my best fucking friend.

“You can’t possibly believe this is about me,” I say. “It’s about us. So you guys had better come up with a plan real fast, or we’re all going to prison. Because they’ve had ten years to set us up. Ten years to plan their end game. And Five isn’t coming to save us this time. This time… we’re on our own.”

Chapter Twenty-Four - KATYA

“Well,” Ariel says in the ground-floor office of Hook-Me-Up. She’s holding her winter coat, just about to hang it on a hook off to the left of the lobby. “I thought you were in the shower.”

I look around, trying to determine if anyone is close enough to hear our conversation, and then decide I’m safe. “I had to get permission.”

I expect a ton of questions about that statement, but Ariel’s nod and acceptance reminds me that she is a professional. “Follow me.”

She slips the coat back on and pushes her way through the front door. I do follow—I don’t have much choice—and catch up with her at the curb.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

Ariel says nothing. Just looks left, then right, and steps off the curb to cross the street.

Again, I follow.

Thirty seconds later I realize where we’re headed. Sick Boyz tattoo shop. As soon as Ariel pushes the door open the buzzing of tattoo machines fills my ears. I follow Ariel down a hallway. One side is nothing but floor-to-ceiling examples of tattoos, the other side is a line of private tattoo rooms, four of which are filled with customers and artists.

The last room is empty and once we enter, Ariel starts talking. “No one can hear anything in this place. Lucky, huh.”

She’s right. If I were wearing a wire—and I’m not—the audio would be useless with all the buzzing.

“OK, tell me what we’re up against tomorrow.”

I screw up my face as I consider her question. “You’re not going to question my loyalties or accuse me of being a spy?”

“Are you loyal?”

I just blink at her for a second. “No. If I’m not fucking someone over I’m the one getting fucked over.”

“OK,” Ariel says, considering my answer. “But you are honest. So this meeting tomorrow. They set it up? These Silver people?”

“How much do you know?”

“Look, you’re back in town after four years and you’re trying to hook up with my brother. You’re his ghost. Can we at least agree on that?”

“I’m not here for him. I mean, I want to be here for him. But I’m here for Weston Conrad. The people—one of the people I work for. He wants something from Weston. Something to do with gold. And before you ask anything else, I don’t know any more. I work by direct order only. When you rang, I texted them, and their answer was to meet you. I’m assuming they thought they’d get some kind of intel out of it.”

“They won’t,” Ariel says. But then she says, “Is this about Weston Conrad’s secret treasure?”

“So much for not giving me intel, Ariel.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone involved already knows something about the treasure. And we’re not giving up shit. Clearly they don’t understand how many resources we control in Fort Collins. Believe me, we cover our bases.”

“You don’t cover your bases well enough to fool them, Ariel. I’m telling you—”

“Regardless,” she says, waving a hand. “What do you think will happen tomorrow? Do I need snipers?” She says this casually. Like she’s asking if I’d like fries with that.

“You have snipers?”

“Not on me, obviously. But I can get them. Do I need them?”