Page 79 of Bitter Arrangement

“Cold,” William says, shaking his head.

“I love it.” Eric raises his coffee. “To pointless revenge.”

“The best kind,” Daron agrees. They toast, and I let them bullshit for a few more minutes before I call the meeting to order.

We go over some operational details first. What facilities we’ll use, security best practices, that sort of thing. William has a few thoughts on some hacks we can pull off, and we discuss those for a little bit. I direct the conversation, but I welcome input from everyone else and try to pull Eric out of his shell a few times throughout the meeting.

Toward the end, I knock my knuckles on the table to get their attention. “I have a personal request,” I say, glancing over at Daron. The expression on his face is deeply skeptical. “My wife’s brother is having some trouble with Los Sombras.”

William’s eyebrows raise. Eric leans back in his chair, arms crossed. Daron’s the only one that speaks up.

“And what’s that have to do with us?” he asks, keeping his tone light and casual, almost like he’s just kidding around.

But there’s an edge, like a warning. He’s trying to say:you already pulled me into some bullshit, don’t do it again.

“All I’m looking for is information. My brother-in-law pulled a heist out in Vegas recently that went all wrong. I want to know who he was there with and how they were connected with Los Sombras. I also need to know which Los Sombras agents are in Baltimore right now. Anything you three can get me will help.”

“Just information?” Eric asks, perking up slightly. “I can do that.”

“Hold on,” William says. “Los Sombras is serious shit.”

“They’re just a cartel.” Eric waves a hand. “I know some guys I can talk to.”

“This isn’t official business,” I point out. “There’s no job attached.”

“Let’s say I’m just trying to prove my worth for now.” Eric grins at me and practically jumps to his feet. “Give me a couple days, boss. I’ll handle this.”

He walks off. I watch him go, feeling like maybe I just did something wrong.

William heads out next. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get himself killed,” he murmurs on the way and follows after Eric.

Daron studies me from across the table. He drinks his coffee, eyes narrowed. I meet his gaze.

“Go ahead. Say it.”

He tilts his head. “Say what?”

“You know what.”

“You want me to say you shouldn’t be dumping personal problems on your crew?” He takes a sip. “Or maybe you shouldn’t encourage Eric to do stupid shit?” Another sip. “Or maybe you already tried to fuck me?—”

“I wasn’t fucking you,” I say through my teeth. “You don’t seem fucked to me.”

“You know what I’m saying.” Daron softens a touch and leans forward. “I get it. You’re in some shit. I don’t know how deep that shit is, but I can smell it all over you.”

I push back from the table. “You don’t have to help.”

“You know I will.” He gets up too, and we walk out of the restaurant together. “All I’m saying is you need to be careful.”

I turn to him, ready to say something sharp, but I can’t find the words. Because the problem is he’s right.

I need their help, but I also shouldn’t involve them.

I’m not asking them to do anything they haven’t done a million times before. Researching a rival organization is almost no big deal.

But what happens after that? Do I drag them even deeper? Would I do it to keep Riley safe?

A part of me knows there are no lines when it comes to my wife.

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