Page 118 of Sinful
Phantom's at the head of the main table with Shadow beside him—our Enforcer, six-foot-four of muscle and bad attitude.
Across from him is Blaze, our VP.
A few other senior members scattered around, going over details for the hundredth time.
Runes and Damon won't arrive with their men until tomorrow.
Right now it's just us—Shotgun Saints—preparing to host what will either be the beginning of the end for Los Coyotes or a bloodbath that gets us all killed.
I'm studying a satellite image of the compound when Ford's voice crackles over the radio.
"Uh, Phantom? We've got a situation at the gate."
Everyone looks up.
Phantom reaches for his radio. "What kind of situation, Ford?"
Static. Then: "There's a... woman here. Says she's Bravos' ol' lady."
The entire room goes silent.
Every single head turns toward me.
My heart stops, then starts again too fast.
Phantom's eyebrows raise slowly. "Bravos? You have an ol' lady?"
I can't breathe properly. Can't think. "Apparently I do now."
The silence stretches for another beat.
Then Shadow slaps me on the back so hard I almost stumble forward into the table.
"Oh come on, our boy is getting tired of all the strange pussy in every city!" He's grinning like this is the best news he's heard all week. "Looks like he wants to be a boring fuck now!"
Laughter ripples through the room—breaking the tension, turning this into something manageable instead of the earth-shifting moment it actually is.
"Fuck off, Shadow," I mutter.
"What's her name? She hot?Pleasetell me she's hot." He's still grinning, leaning back against the table with his arms crossed. "Because if you're giving up the Nomad life, she better be worth it."
"Shadow." The voice comes from the corner—Grace, one of Phantom’s daughters, sitting with her laptop open and papers spread around her.
She's been here for lunch, stopping by before heading to another ranch to check on horses.
Livestock vet. Smart as hell and doesn't take shit from anyone, especially Shadow.
"Some people actually mature and grow up. Not that you'd know anything about that."
Shadow turns toward her, that cocky grin still in place. "What's that supposed to mean, Princess?"
"It means you're emotionally stunted and Bravos is evolving past you." Her tone is dry, matter-of-fact, like she's diagnosing a sick animal.
"Big words for someone who spends all day with her hand up a cow's ass."
"Better than spending all day with my head up mine, which is apparently your full-time occupation."
"You know what?—"
