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“How? They don’t know each other.”
“You sure about that?” I voice the very real niggle that’s been tapping at the back of my mind these past few days.
“I’m sure.” Maddie flattens her lips in thought. "Rae said that Tom confessed to intercepting one of Terry's loads and taking liberties with the relocation of the confiscated goods."
"He did." I nod. "On more than one occasion."
"She also told me thatwewere the ones who gave Terry the name of the person taking his goods." She lifts an eyebrow, daring me to set her straight.
I choose no answer as the best answer and ease back in my seat.
She sighs. "Really, Daddy?"
"When she tell you this?" If the girl knowsweknew what Tom was up to, what else does she know? How deep did she go before she jumped ship? Worse,hasshe jumped ship, or has Terry finally played me one last time, putting an informant inside my walls? "Before or after she got here?"
"This morning. Why?"
"Curious why she'd choose us to help her if she thinks we can't be trusted."
"She doesn't trust us," Maddie levels. "She just thinks we're the better option over Connor.” A breath, and then she adds, "He called her last night."
"And she didn't think I should know this?" I jet from the seat, pacing toward the door.What else is she holding back on?
"Daddy!" Maddie flies out of her chair, intercepting me before I cross the threshold into the living area. "Wait."
"Why?" I jerk an arm toward the door."We welcome her in with an understandin’ of mutual respect, and first opportunity she gets, she keeps quiet about contact with the fucker she's runnin' from?"
The theory Rae is a fucking spy looks more and more plausible by the damn second.
"Maybe she didn't think anything they spoke about was worth sharing,” Maddie hedges.
"You gonna tell me they sat on the phone and talked recipes for apple pie?" I push against her, silently warning my daughter to get out of my way.
"Don't." She shifts to have both hands high on my chest. "Please. Give her a day off before you start with the politics." Her eyes narrow, brow tugged low. “Maybe you don’t trust her yet, but you trust me, don’t you?”
I glance at the closed door and sigh. She's right, and she fucking knows it. If I had my time again, I'd wish for the same when I was handed that gavel without warning or consultation.
I'd want a day to just be. To get my head straight before someone started at me with the agendas and strategies. She’s not able to do shit from within our walls anyway. What’s a day before I start the interrogation?
Maybe I can’t rewrite history, but I can sure as shit break the chain.
Starting with her.
18
DIGGER
Rae works solidly for an hour,shifting the mess I'd created while working out frustrations of my own seeing her flanked by Kane and Merrick this morning. Three hours of shit sleep does not a happy Digger make, which is why I banished myself to the garage early. I'd usually have one of the prospects doing the grunt work, but my mouth fired away the suggestion before I had a chance to think through the consequences.
Like a hot and sweaty Rae stripped down to a form-fitting tank and her skinny jeans, sculpted arms straining under the weight of a spare wheel as she hoists it on top of two already stacked together.
"What's next?" she asks breathlessly, wiping her bare arm across her brow.
Tendrils of dark hair frame her face tugged free from her loose ponytail.
My fingers twitch at my sides. "You wanna break?" I'm all for pitching in, but not if I'll ruin the girl.
Her brow pinches, gaze like fire. "No."
