Page 99 of Bull Rush

“The black market. Not Sotheby’s.” Grant presses his lips together.

“Isn’t that risky? Can you trust her?”

“She comes well vetted and recommended, and she charges a hefty commission for the privilege of her services.” Grant shuffles a few pieces of paper on his desk, and then gives me a pointed look. “This whole world is a series of calculated bets. You just have to plan to be the house and not the gambler.”

FORTY-NINE

Ramsey

A week later,at my insistence, we’re standing in front of the vault at The Avarice, waiting for Levi to bring the courier down for the reliquary. Grant has it sitting out behind the heavily barred gate, and I roll my shoulders. Performance anxiety is rolling through me in waves. I’ve been able to adapt to the idea of being a killer, but the idea of exchanging goods in a clandestine tête-à-tête in the basement of The Avarice is, apparently, a bridge too far. The fitted suit I’m in isn’t helping. I thought I might have been done with them when my pro career ended with my prison sentence, but instead, I’m in one Grant’s tailor fitted to within an inch of my life.

“You’re the one who insisted on being here.” Grant flashes a look at me, warning me not to embarrass him.

“You wanted me back in the family business.” I hold my ground. “This is what it looks like.”

“Well, I retract my statement. Stay on your ranch with your mud and your horses.”

A moment later, we hear footsteps coming down the hall, and I don’t get to respond. Levi appears with a tall brunette woman. Her hair falls around her shoulders in thick waves, and her pale green eyes are hauntingly stark against her pale skin and dark lashes. She’s dressed in a fitted, white blouse and wide-leg trousers that hide her heels. Another tall woman, even taller than the first, trails behind her, with dark-auburn hair bluntly chopped at her shoulders and ocean-blue eyes. She’s wearing black leather pants and a black sweater with spiked heels that make her look deadly.

“You must be the courier…” Grant takes a step forward, holding out his hand to the brunette. Her eyes flash over him, but I can’t read if it’s interest or pure assessment that’s dancing behind them.

“I am.” She smiles, flashing a bright smile.

“Grant.”

“Charlotte,” she answers him and then turns to me, a small smile appearing on her lips like she’s registering how uncomfortable I am.

“Should we be exchanging names?” I ask.

“No,” the auburn-haired one says bluntly, looking between the three of us brothers like we’re the worst excuse for men she’s ever seen.

“Ramsey, right? I’ve seen you around.” Charlotte smiles at me politely, and the face Levi makes behind her makes me regret I ever had such a public career.

“Around?” I ask, but she ignores my question and turns to Grant again.

“Do you have the item?”

“Yes.”

“As we discussed, my policy is to leave a deposit with youworth one half what the item will reasonably fetch on the market. Are we still agreed?” She looks at Grant as though he might say no.

“We’re agreed.”

“Good.” She smiles. “The money.” She nods to her assistant who presents a bag.

The exchange happens so quickly that I barely know why I came at all. I suppose this way, I’ve at least seen the reliquary, and I’d be able to identify the party who stole it if she never returns with it—a risk we have to take to dig deeper into this pit of vipers my brothers have stirred up.

“Now what?” I ask Grant when Levi disappears with the women up the elevator again.

“We wait. Hopefully she draws them out.”

“And if there is a buyer?”

“We pay extra to find out who they are,” Grant answers bluntly.

That night,when I get home from The Avarice and pull into the drive, my phone dings with a text. It’s Cooper asking me to call him. I glance at the clock and see I have a bit before Haze is off her shift at the inn, so I hit the button to return Cooper’s call.

“Hey, cowboy. How’s it going?” Cooper greets me warmly. It feels strange, like he and that world are a lifetime away, and I’m somehow able to time travel with a phone call.

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