Bren didn’t step back because she was a coward. She stepped back because of the unnecessary pain it’d bring, and I took a look, a good long look, at this guy as I parked and got out of my own vehicle.

He was leaning his shoulder against his ride, arms crossed over his chest, and he was in full bounty hunting apparel. Vest on. All their weapons they wore. His badge hanging around his neck. He had sunglasses on but flipped them up as I came around the back of my truck.

He nodded to me. “I clocked you watching me the other night. Knew you were smart. The others,” he waved a hand in the air, “they listen to you. All of them. You can tell, if you really watch. Bren, she relies on you. She smiles quicker, breathes easier when you’re near her. The others, they do the same. They’re a bit more guarded, then you come back and they all just relax. And you’re the leader. Noticed that, too, from the other night. Could tell because they all had to see you if they were wondering something. Joking. Telling stories. They don’t look at you in those moments, but the second another person or situation or a call came through and they were unsure, all of them checked in with you. A look. A question. Or a hand motion, like a wave or something. I was military, was in a special unit. I learned to read people in little motions that no one else even detects. I can learn a lot that way. I learned a lot that night you were in my place.”

“Yeah.” Fine. He wanted me to know he knew me. I’d show him me. “Me too. I looked up the records. You are the sole owner of both businesses, the bowling alley and the bounty hunting business, but you let the old couple be the beard. You do that for them? Is it a matter of pride, or you enjoy the cover? Other things I learned by watching you, you’re smart. Case in point, this entire conversation, but you’re a workaholic, hence why you were there that late at night still doing work. That paperwork wasn’t for the bowling alley. You were relaxed in the bowling alley. You enjoyed being in there, but you got tense when you walked into the other offices. That’s the work you were doing, since you got tense as soon as you picked up your pen. And if you were doing that paperwork alone, that means you sent the rest home. So you treat them good.”

A smile flared for a second. “You got that because I was doing paperwork alone?”

“That and Trundle offered to sneak us booze, but we couldn’t tell you. I watched him. He wasn’t really worried that you’d notice or even care. He poured Jordan a beer a couple times in front of you, and you didn’t blink an eye. That means you trust him.”

His smile fell. “That kid did that?”

I nodded.

He looked away, cursing. “He’s Hawk’s little brother. He’s also like my little brother, that punk.” He shook his head, his hand rubbing between his eyes for a moment. Then, as if clearing his mind, he refocused on me. A cloud seemed to settle over him, making the bags under his eyes a little more pronounced. “You did good. I almost would’ve not caught it, with the whole dropping Justin’s key card in the back, except that Justin never uses that door. That was your tell.”

I closed my eyes. Damn.

“After that, I went to the security cameras, and you know what I saw. Took me a bit to figure out who it was. You, and I’m assuming Bren was the other, you both were masked. Kept your heads down. Stayed in the shadows. I only really got you on camera a few times. Can see the flashlights, but it was so dark in there, that’s mostly it. The flashlight, your hands holding the lights, and your shapes every now and then. Saw the flashes, so I’m assuming you were both taking pictures.” His eyes got hard. “Pictures that I’ll want back, by the way.” Then he drew in a breath and waited a beat, glancing off a moment. “The only thing, Bren doesn’t know where the key to get into the offices was kept. That’s what tricked me up a bit until I remembered that I put the key there last night, and you were walking back from the bathroom. That was the only way you could’ve known, and you were good. I had no clue you saw me. Must’ve seen me the second you cleared the door. Probably happened in a split second.”

He was right.

I wasn’t confirming.

Now was the real reason he called me, straightening up from his truck. He seemed casual, but the guy was like a shark just circling, getting closer to the smaller fish he wanted to eat.

I was bracing.

I knew the bite was coming.

He dropped his voice low. “I could go to the station, make a formal complaint. They could haul you guys in. Course, that means Bren would go in and I know she’s got a record. Her dad has one, too. They’d see her, find out her connection, know that she’s a couple steps away from some of their bigger warrants, and are you seeing where I’m going with this?”

Yes, I was.

And yes, I wanted to hit him. Now, please.

He was threatening Bren.

I smirked. “You don’t want to do that.”

He frowned. “What?”

“You heard me.” I moved forward an inch. “You’re going to stand here, and toss out threats? Do it. Course, you do that, and you not only piss off me and my crew, but you piss of Bren’s brother and his entire company and Bren’s dad. From what I heard, Raith did something for Channing because of his dad. You don’t think he wouldn’t do something if you threatened Monroe’s daughter? Because of her connection to their MC? Yeah. You don’t want to do that. You’d also hurt Bren. She likes you guys. She likes working with you guys, if you’d only give her a chance.”

He’d gone still as I talked, and stiller and stiller until he wasn’t moving an inch. When I was done, he closed his eyes. One second, then they opened, and he coughed. “I think I’m handling this wrong.”

I snorted. “I’m thinking that’s a no-brainer.”

His eyes narrowed. “I need those pictures deleted off your phone.”

I waited a second. “I already sent them to Channing.”

“You WHAT?!”

He came unhinged now, jerking away from his truck, but he caught himself. Though, that might’ve been because Jordan’s truck swung into the parking lot at that moment. Zellman jumped from the back before it stopped, coming to a running stop beside me. Jordan wasn’t far off, his door slamming shut as he strolled around his truck.

“Well…on that note,” I indicated to them. “My ride’s here.”

Brock was shaking his head, looking at the ground. His hands were on his hips, and a grumbling sound came from him. “Do you even know what you did? Do you even care?”

“I sent mug shots from one bounty hunter to another bounty hunter.”

“You sent surveillance pictures to the same fucking people being watched. That’s what you did.” A vein was sticking out on the side of his neck. He was getting red.

“No.”

“YES!”

“No,” I shot back, fierce. “Channing’s not like that.”

He scoffed, still shaking his head. “The son of our mark? Yeah, right.”

“Screw off,” Jordan spoke up.

Zellman jerked his chin up. “Back up.”

His eyes narrowed to slits, taking in both of them. “Right. What great friends you guys are. So big and tough, right? You don’t know—”

“Like we don’t know what goes on in the world?” Jordan stepped forward, his head lowered and cocked to the side, but his eyes firmly on Brock. “You serious? Your research is worth shit then. We’re from Roussou. We don’t have the white picket fences or the fancy zip codes. You fight to survive there. You don’t—”

“Well…” Zellman cocked his head to the left. “Some do.”

Jordan stopped, his eyes flicking up before he kept on, “Anyway, we ain’t the sheltered bitches you think we are.”

“I grew up in a trailer.”

Jordan frowned, glancing to Zellman, who was bobbing his head after he just said that.

I frowned.

Brock’s eyes squinted.

“So,” Jordan looked back to Brock, “don’t fuck with us.”

“Alrighty, incoming freshman students. Noted. I’m quaking in my boots.” Brock was pulling all the punches.

“Oh my God—” Jordan started.

I spoke up, stopping him, “I’m not giving you the pics—it’s not even a question at this point since they are out of my hands—and you’re not going to do anything about it. Let’s all drop the pretenses here. You called me here to see if you could intimidate your way into me giving you the pictures. I sent them to Channing first thing this morning, and if you’re recording me to incrim–”

“Don’t insult me,” he snarled.

I stopped, but asked, “We on the same page?”

He was glaring at me. “You’re a freshman in college. What do you know about the wrong side of the tracks? I ran your parents’ finances. You grew up privileged.”

I sobered. He was right, but he wasn’t. In more ways than I could count.

“Considering you know Bren’s files, you know I’ll know that I’m quite aware of my privilege compared to how she grew up.” I motioned to Zellman. “Him too.”