Page 91 of Callum

Ford sighs, pushing to her feet. “It means that my sources are always correct. And you fucking know it.”

She moves toward the door, reaching out to ruffle Lincoln’s hair as she walks past him. Quick as lightning, he slaps her hand away. She stops short, looking at her palm, then laughs loudly at the small blister forming on her skin. “Acid?”

Lincoln nods, a vicious smile spreading across his face.

“Brilliant, little brother.” She sneers at me over her shoulder one more time before disappearing through the dining room door.

“She’s lying.”

“I’m not sure that she is,” Lincoln defends, finally finding his voice. He doesn’t speak much and never above a whisper. Our mother always says he does it so you know that what he says has weight—that his words are meant to be taken seriously.

I think he’s just used to being spoken over.

“Why would the Grim Reaper have any protected souls in the Underworld, much less the three leaders of the GiGi’s and a prostitute?”

My prostitute that Ginetta Ricci is refusing to turn over to me.

“Because that prostitute was fourth in command before she fell from grace.”

Chevy shifts in his chair, leaning around me to look at our younger brother. “You think the GiGi’s have a deal with Grim?”

Lincoln shrugs, not bothering to give Chevy a straight answer.

“Lincoln,” I wait until his dark eyes land on my face before I continue. “Find out what connects the GiGi’s to Grim.”

He nods once, slipping from his chair and out the door on silent feet. Fuck, it’s creepy when he moves like that.

“Chev,” I turn toward my second in command, crossing both arms over my chest. “Send the order down. Ginetta Ricci’s Girls are on the house from here on out. We fuck for free until she brings me the girl.”

“She isn’t going to take that lying down, boss.” Chevy stands, stretching his back until I hear his spine crack.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not asking.”

Twenty-Five: Finders, Keepers

CALLUM

The Warehouse looks more and more like a functioning operation every time I’m here.

“Still got another week, but she’s coming right along.” Maddock proudly gestures at the building around us. It’s the middle of the day, and his men are moving around the Warehouse with ruthless efficiency. “Rallo,” Maddock waves a man over who I recognize as his second in command at MacAlister Construction. “We’ve got a meeting in the Garage. Make sure the men stay on this side until I give the all-clear.”

“Yeah, boss.” Rallo nods, immediately turning to start barking orders at the men.

The Garage is fully finished, with flat white walls and shelves stacked high with wooden crates. Maddock explains that they’ve soundproofed the room to help cut the noise of the motorcycle engines through the rest of the building.

“Amongst other things,” Grant’s bored voice joins Maddock’s the moment we step through the door into the Garage. “Can’t have just anyone listening in.”

He smiles wryly at us, pushing off the wall he’s been leaning against. Grant’s wearing his all-black suit, and I stop at the sight. “Who’s dying?”

“Dodge Roman, if I have my way.”

“You found him?” Rosalind takes a step forward, her question sounding like a demand.

Grant’s head tips slowly from side to side before he answers. “Sort of.”

“I’m gonna need more than ‘sort of’, Grant.”

He huffs, pulling out his phone to check something. “Dodge resurfaced in Balkirk at eleven fifty-two last night. Just after nine o’clock this morning, Ginetta and Kyler were spotted in Chandler.”

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