He was right.
I wasn’t confirming.
Now was the real reason he called me, straightening up from his truck. He seemed casual, but the guy was like a shark just circling, getting closer to the smaller fish he wanted to eat.
I was bracing.
I knew the bite was coming.
He dropped his voice low. “I could go to the station, make a formal complaint. They could haul you guys in. Course, that means Bren would go in and I know she’s got a record. Her dad has one, too. They’d see her, find out her connection, know that she’s a couple steps away from some of their bigger warrants, and are you seeing where I’m going with this?”
Yes, I was.
And yes, I wanted to hit him. Now, please.
He was threatening Bren.
I smirked. “You don’t want to do that.”
He frowned. “What?”
“You heard me.” I moved forward an inch. “You’re going to stand here, and toss out threats? Do it. Course, you do that, and you not only piss off me and my crew, but you piss of Bren’s brother and his entire company and Bren’s dad. From what I heard, Raith did something for Channing because of his dad. You don’t think he wouldn’t do something if you threatened Monroe’s daughter? Because of her connection to their MC? Yeah. You don’t want to do that. You’d also hurt Bren. She likes you guys. She likes working with you guys, if you’d only give her a chance.”
He’d gone still as I talked, and stiller and stiller until he wasn’t moving an inch. When I was done, he closed his eyes. One second, then they opened, and he coughed. “I think I’m handling this wrong.”
I snorted. “I’m thinking that’s a no-brainer.”
His eyes narrowed. “I need those pictures deleted off your phone.”
I waited a second. “I already sent them to Channing.”
“You WHAT?!”
He came unhinged now, jerking away from his truck, but he caught himself. Though, that might’ve been because Jordan’s truck swung into the parking lot at that moment. Zellman jumped from the back before it stopped, coming to a running stop beside me. Jordan wasn’t far off, his door slamming shut as he strolled around his truck.
“Well…on that note,” I indicated to them. “My ride’s here.”
Brock was shaking his head, looking at the ground. His hands were on his hips, and a grumbling sound came from him. “Do you even know what you did? Do you even care?”
“I sent mug shots from one bounty hunter to another bounty hunter.”
“You sent surveillance pictures to the same fucking people being watched. That’s what you did.” A vein was sticking out on the side of his neck. He was getting red.
“No.”
“YES!”
“No,” I shot back, fierce. “Channing’s not like that.”
He scoffed, still shaking his head. “The son of our mark? Yeah, right.”
“Screw off,” Jordan spoke up.
Zellman jerked his chin up. “Back up.”
His eyes narrowed to slits, taking in both of them. “Right. What great friends you guys are. So big and tough, right? You don’t know—”
“Like we don’t know what goes on in the world?” Jordan stepped forward, his head lowered and cocked to the side, but his eyes firmly on Brock. “You serious? Your research is worth shit then. We’re from Roussou. We don’t have the white picket fences or the fancy zip codes. You fight to survive there. You don’t—”
“Well…” Zellman cocked his head to the left. “Some do.”
Jordan stopped, his eyes flicking up before he kept on, “Anyway, we ain’t the sheltered bitches you think we are.”
“I grew up in a trailer.”
Jordan frowned, glancing to Zellman, who was bobbing his head after he just said that.
I frowned.
Brock’s eyes squinted.
“So,” Jordan looked back to Brock, “don’t fuck with us.”
“Alrighty, incoming freshman students. Noted. I’m quaking in my boots.” Brock was pulling all the punches.
“Oh my God—” Jordan started.
I spoke up, stopping him, “I’m not giving you the pics—it’s not even a question at this point since they are out of my hands—and you’re not going to do anything about it. Let’s all drop the pretenses here. You called me here to see if you could intimidate your way into me giving you the pictures. I sent them to Channing first thing this morning, and if you’re recording me to incrim–”
“Don’t insult me,” he snarled.
I stopped, but asked, “We on the same page?”
He was glaring at me. “You’re a freshman in college. What do you know about the wrong side of the tracks? I ran your parents’ finances. You grew up privileged.”
I sobered. He was right, but he wasn’t. In more ways than I could count.
“Considering you know Bren’s files, you know I’ll know that I’m quite aware of my privilege compared to how she grew up.” I motioned to Zellman. “Him too.”
“Hey…” Zellman frowned.
Jordan grinned at him. “He’s making a point.”
Zellman huffed. “I’m just not appreciating that he’s using me to make the point.”