Page 10 of Grave Games

Tyr nodded, his mouth a flat line. “I’m positive my uncle’s been sending plants our way, which means we have to be careful in our vetting. That’s why I’ve been insisting on having the final say on who’s in, and who’s out.”

I nodded, taking my time digesting this new twist. “I should’ve been told about this.”

Tyr’s eyes narrowed on me.

“I might be your VP, Tyr, but I’m also this club’s Chief of Security. I need to know about this shit so I can deal with it.”

“I can’t afford to trust anybody, Romeo,” Tyr said, his expression grimmer than I’d ever seen it. “Loki’s woman getting kidnapped was just the tip of the iceberg. Our long hauls are getting ambushed, our product’s getting stolen, and our guys are being put in the hospital. We’ve got a goddamn dirty traitor in our ranks, and I won’t stop until I find that cocksucker so I can feed him headfirst into my woodchipper. But I am trusting you now,” he added, pushing off the desk to hold up a hand for me to grab in a hard clasp. “I’m trusting you to follow through on this mission. I need to get my hands on Chef McKeen, the one guy who we know has no loyalty to Hades or his crew, because he wants out.”

“You think that if we can get our hands on Shiloh’s brother, he’ll be able to help us identify the traitor in our midst?”

“That’s the hope.”

“They know Chef’s a problem,” I said after a moment. “Twice now I’ve spotted some of Hades’s crew buzzing around Shiloh. The first week you set me on her path, my crew watched as she was followed by one of Hades’s men to a grocery store in her neighborhood. And just ten days ago Ghoul walked right into the diner where she works and made her wait on him. She didn’t know who he was, so no drama came of it.”

Tyr’s eyes darkened. “Coincidence?”

“I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“That makes two of us. I’ve got more irons in the fire to see if my uncle’s got any weaknesses in his organization, but number-one on my priority list is finding the traitor. That means you need to focus on one thing, and that’s seeing whether or not we can get to Chef McKeen through his sister. You read me?”

“Loud and clear,” I said, nodding.

Focusing on Shiloh and her amazing green eyes wasn’t any problem at all.

Chapter Four

Game Plan

Shiloh

“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing all right after last night.” Heather’s chipper voice came through my phone as I used my free hand to empty out a box that held random items like fashion scarves, a fuzzy pair of tights I couldn’t remember buying, and lots of costume jewelry. That box held just about everything I needed fashion accessory-wise, except for one thing.

A pair of gloves.

As weird as it was, I didn’t want Romeo to buy me gloves. I didn’t want him to buy me anything, but gloves… Gloves were protective gear. If Romeo bought me gloves and I accepted them, that meant I was accepting he had a right to protect me, at least in my mind. That was an intimate thing, allowing a man to protect you. I was more than capable of protecting myself. I didn’t want Romeoprotectingme, even if it was only from the cold. If he did that, I might start feeling something other than numbness for him, and that was something I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

Then again, considering how much I’d been thinking about Romeo the past twelve hours, maybe I wasn’t as numb as I thought.

“I’m okay, Heather, honestly. Just a little sore here and there.” With a gusty sigh I scooped all the oddball accessories back into the box and closed the lid with a snap. “Dubya gave me the day off, so I’m going to make the most of my time by deep-cleaning the kitchen. Do I know how to live, or what?”

“That might be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” came the immediate reply. “Why don’t you give your stalker a call? I’ll bet he has plenty of ideas on how to keep you entertained.”

Now there was a thought. “Oh, that reminds me. I straight-up asked Romeo if he was stalking me.”

Heather’s gasp was so loud it was almost like she was in the same room with me. “Youwhat?”

“Why is that shocking?”

“Because you don’t ask a stalker if he’s stalking you!”

“Why? Where is that written?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere. I just know you shouldn’t do it.”

“Well, I did, and guess what? The world didn’t end.”

“So… Well, okay then,” Heather said, sounding thoroughly flummoxed. “Tell me everything. What did he have to say for himself?”

---