Page 78 of Brick's Retribution

Astra takes a bite of bacon and chews quickly. "You cook, Imani?"

"Not really," I admit. "Never had much opportunity to learn."

"We'll fix that," she says decisively. "Can't have Brick living on takeout and protein bars. Man needs proper feeding."

"I feed myself just fine," Brick protests, but there's warmth in his voice.

"Barely," Kelsey interjects. "I've seen your definition of a meal. Gas station burritos don't count."

"They do if you add hot sauce," Doom chimes in, which earns him a playful slap from Astra.

"Don't encourage him," she scolds. "These boys would live on junk food if we let them."

The gentle teasing continues as we eat, and I find myself relaxing into it.

This is what normal looks like for them—not the formal dinners and calculated conversations of my world, but genuine connection over simple food.

I catch myself watching how the couples interact—little touches, inside jokes.

It's so different from the arranged relationships and political marriages I've witnessed in cartel circles.

Astra stares at me, but it’s like she’sreallylooking into the depths of my soul. "First time at a club breakfast?"

"First time at any kind of family breakfast in years," I admit.

Something in my tone must give away more than I intended because her expression softens.

"Well, get used to it. This is every Sunday when we're not on runs. Sometimes Wednesdays too if someone's feeling ambitious."

"Amara wants to see you both when you're done," Doom mentions between bites of pancake. "Said it's important."

The reminder of why we're really here settles over me like a weight.

For a moment, I'd let myself forget about tracking devices and trafficking rings and the danger stalking us.

After breakfast, Brick and I help clear the tables—apparently another club tradition that everyone participates in regardless of anyone’s rank.

I find myself beside Astra at the sink, washing dishes while she dries. "He's different with you," she observes quietly. "Brick, I mean. More settled."

"How long have you known him?"

"A few years. Python and I got together… well, it feels like a century ago." She glances at me. "You know, Brick's been wound tight for months, looking for his friend. But with you... he seems more free. We all know Lashes is important to him, but finding her has been suffocating every part of his life."

The guilt that statement brings is sharp.

Am I a distraction from finding Lashes? Or am I helping him be strong enough to continue the search?

"We're going to find her," I say, not sure if I'm trying to convince Astra or myself.

"I know," she replies simply. "And having you in his corner will make all the difference."

After cleanup, Brick and I make our way to Amara's office.

She's already sitting behind her desk, papers spread across it. "Morning," she greets us. "Coffee?"

"Please," I accept gratefully, settling into one of the chairs.

Amara pours from a pot that looks like it could strip paint, the brew black as midnight.

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