Page 72 of Brick's Retribution

I don't need to ask what he means.

The manic energy that's driven me for months, the desperation that came from searching endlessly for Lashes, has finally eased.

Not because I've given up on finding her, but because I'm not carrying that burden alone anymore.

"It’s Imani," I say simply.

"Yeah, I figured." Doom crosses his arms over his massive chest. "She seems solid. Handles herself well."

"She does." I pause, then decide to trust him with the plan that's been forming. "We think we might have a lead on Lashes."

His attention sharpens immediately. "What kind of lead?"

I explain the trafficking operation, the financial connections Imani uncovered, the possibility that Lashes is being held for an exclusive auction.

Honestly, Sally Bernard wanted to fuck with us in the worst way possible. Taking one of our own and selling her to the highest bidder would’ve been yet another way to do that.

As I talk, Doom's expression shifts.

"International trafficking ring," he says when I finish. "With the kind of resources to run professional kill teams."

"Yeah."

"And your plan is to infiltrate them using your cartel princess as bait."

"That's the idea."

Doom is quiet for a long moment, processing everything I’ve said to him. "It's fucking insane," he says finally.

My heart sinks.

If Doom thinks it's too dangerous...

"But," he continues, "it's insane enough that it might actually work. These bastards will see a Torres and think profit, not threat."

"You think it could work?"

"I think if anyone can pull it off, it's you and her." He claps a heavy hand on my shoulder, careful of my bandages. "Just make sure you have proper backup. You talk to Amara about it yet?"

"Yeah, all is good. We’re supposed to have backup, but she hasn’t said who yet."

"I’ll volunteer for that shit if she’ll let me head out with you." He’s been itching for some action, I can tell. "Now go enjoy the party. You've earned it."

As the afternoon flies by, the courtyard fills with brothers and their ol’ ladies and prospects.

The atmosphere is relaxed, celebratory, everyone eager to blow off steam after weeks of stress.

Imani fits in better than I expected.

She talks shop with Kelsey about business stuff, swaps stories with some of the ol’ ladies about dealing with dangerous men, and listens as the brothers tell exaggerated stories of runs they’ve been on in the past.

"Here you go, sweetheart. Made this one a little different." Compass says, appearing at her elbow with another massive margarita decorated with lime wheels and salt. I think this is the third one she’s had today.

She takes a sip and her eyes widen. "Oh my God, that's incredible. What's in it?"

"Uh-uh, not gonna tell ya," he replies with a grin. "But I'm glad you like it."

I watch her charm my brothers without even trying, just by being herself—smart, interested, unafraid.

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