Page 95 of Lucky Strike

I tug her into my side, kissing her ear. “You can practice on me when we get home.”

“Freak.” But she slides her arm around me.

My phone vibrates. It’s Johnny. “I need to take this call.”

“Go ahead.” Bria walks ahead, catching up with Liam and the dogs.

“Hey, Johnny. What’s up?”

“Heya, Lucky. That new security company that moved in.” He pauses, interrupted by a hacking cough. Chain smoking for years will do that to you. “Yeah, turns out they’re Feds.”

“What?” I freeze mid-step.

“They were keepin’ a low profile at first, but now they’re just out with it. Asking lots of questions, hitting up all of the other offices in the building. They even asked me, but I played it cool. Said they’d need a search warrant if they wanted to see the shipment logs.”

“Good, good.” We don’t keep any info about guns at the Conley office for obvious reasons, but Johnny did exactly what he was supposed to. Fucking pigs do need a search warrant—as well as probable cause—if they want access to our records. “What did they say?”

“They didn’t say squat to me, but they told Marshall they’re looking into a major shipping operation connected to this office block.” Marshall’s one of the cops on our payroll, so he’s usually good for info.

My stomach twists as I let out a slow breath. Someone must’vetipped them off about the guns, right? They had to. And even if this has nothing to do with us, it’s way too close for comfort. “Shit,” I whisper. “We need to be careful.”

“I heard they were looking for drugs, but I don’t know.”

Wait, drugs? “Was Angel around? Any of his guys?”

“Nah, they been making themselves scarce,” he says. “But listen, a bunch of Sokolov’s men got arrested.”

My mind is a swirl of questions. “You saw this happen?”

“Nah, I was inside, but Timmy—he’s been on street detail—he sent me a text message when it was goin’ down. Said the Bratva hadn’t been there ten minutes when the coppers rolled up and took ‘em. Whole thing was over in like five minutes. Ilya showed up later makin’ a big fuss, threatening everybody for snitching, but c’mon.” He laughs hoarsely. “Ain’t nobody in here trying to get the cops involved. Whole thing was a clusterfuck.”

Up ahead, Liam’s got Bria’s hand in his as they walk the dogs. Their voices drift back to me every now and then, his inquisitive, hers low and soothing. I wrap things up with Johnny and call Tristan.

“You talk to Johnny?” my brother says the second he picks up.

“Just got off the phone with him.”

“Good thing we’ve been keeping it squeaky clean lately, huh,” Tristan says. “Let ‘em come with a warrant—they won’t find a thing.”

“I know, but I don’t like that they’re this close.” I pause, considering. “If they are after drugs, the Blades are the ones who need to play it safe.”

“Angel says they’re pulling out of Conley for sure. Between the Bratva and now this, there’s too much heat.”

“We might have to do the same.”

“You think so?” he asks quietly. “Dad’s been operating out of Conley forever.”

“Our legit accounts are fine, but that’s about it.” We’ve been running guns at the docks for over a decade, and I’d hoped to eventually return there once things calmed down, but it’s not looking good.

“Listen, I gotta go,” says Tristan. “But we might have a new client. Referred by Jack.”

Jack is one of Heath’s top guys, the accountant at Benny’s. A straight shooter—I’ve always liked him despite his boss. Bria and Liamturn the corner and start walking back to the townhouse, completing the circuit. I follow a few feet behind, my eyes never leaving them. “Really? Who?”

“They go by Tilly,” he says. “And they're willing to pay top dollar for some serious firepower, like a steady supply. I guess they have a score to settle?”

I frown, scratching my chin. “Sounds like it.”

“Jack said they got beef with somebody down south and it’s getting to that point.”

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