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I thought “blue lobster” was code for some wacko meth varietal, which is why it never clicked.
But no.
Actual live lobsters.
And shit.
I’ve been washing Redfang cash this whole time.
“What the—?” Orion and Atlas hover into my screen, watching me work.
JJ’s grip tightens on my ankle, and his voice drops a few degrees. “Diamond Dolls is Diamonds. Omega strip club. Renee.”
I pull the old records from my cloud, thanking the spreadsheet gods and Orion for finally giving me a keyboard because I can type one-handed while stroking JJ’s hair.
I have three years of Diamonds’ records.
Three years of manipulated numbers and data.
And three years of chances to pin Dominik’s snaky ass.
Plus one sea bug invoice that might be the smoking gun. “Blue lobsters. Really rare. Lately, they’ve been shipped to Dom’s island whenever they come to market. But before that, the supplier invoiced them to Diamonds and had them shipped here.” I point to the address in my records. “Near the harbor?”
“Warehouse district,” Atlas mumbles.
“I’ll text Hunter.” Orion whips out his phone to send a pic of the address.
I click through the other records, flagging a few more shipment locations where we can check for secret Redfang lairs.
After a while, Atlas’s phone buzzes against my hip. He’s careful not to jostle me when he pulls it out. “Dice?” Hunter’s excited voice buzzes through the line. Atlas nods. “We’ll go.”
A ragged whorl twists through my stomach.
They’ll go?
Now?
Atlas hangs up, then pushes my laptop to Orion so he can drag me into his lap. When he runs his nose over my forehead, the spike of panic fades. “We’ll check it out. You want to sit in the tech van with Orion and J so you can follow along? They won’t leave the compound.”
I melt under his stroking attention and perfect handling, because yes, of course I wanna stalker-follow my alphas’ movements while staying perfectly protected.
But I still frown. “How many omega books did you read?”
“A few.” He kisses my forehead, peeling the other guys off me so he can lift me into his arms. “Let’s go. Get it taken care of now so we can focus on your heat.”
I quake against his chest.
Can’t believe I’m admitting it, but…
I think…
I’m finally going to trust them to take care of me.
Atlas and Finn join Hunter at the office, and my omega instincts call bullshit. They shouldn’t leave when I’m needier by the second.
But I’m a big girl, so I swallow the crazy and enjoy watching them walk off in their gear. All in black, they’re strapped down with holsters and harnesses and all kinds of delicious cuffs that hold their weapons and pin their clothes to their muscles.
I accept this form of leaving tax.
