“What do you see happening?”
“I sent a message to Hammer, asking him to meet me here. I was hoping I could get Decker here too, so we can put together an action plan.”
“Understood, but first, what do you see happening with this woman?” He unnecessarily emphasized the last two words. My answer had been an intentional attempt to circumvent his real question.
It took me a long time to answer, and Grinder, pain in the ass that he could be, waited patiently.
“I don’t know.”
He shook his head. “Not good, mate.”
Three words on each of our parts, and yet they communicated so much. If Rebel hadn’t worked her way under my skin, I would’ve told Grinder that once she was exonerated, we’d part ways. I wouldn’t have hesitated either. His response was right on the money too. If I didn’t know, that meant I was in over my head.
“She doesn’t have anyone else who can help her.”
Grinder nodded. “So you’re the white knight.”
Truthfully, I’d been the black knight far more often in my life. I couldn’t treat Rebel the same way I’d treated other women—walking away when I was done shagging them. For the time being anyway, she was living in my house.
“I arranged for her to work in the dining hall with Tee-Tee.” I also told Grinder that they already knew each other but left out the details of their estrangement.
“Begs the question whether you plan to stay on in the States long-term?”
It wasn’t that I didn’t love England. However, the argument could be made that even before I spent time here, I preferred the idea of the States, Texas in particular, over my motherland. Would I have felt differently if my parents hadn’t died when I was a lad? It was impossible to say since they had.
I’d never made a secret of my desire to stay on here as long as possible. It was something Grinder and Rile regularly gave me shit about. Even Lennox enjoyed taking the piss out of me from time to time. In his case, it was my fascination with the cowboy lifestyle that he enjoyed poking fun at.
Before I could respond to Grinder’s question, which I assumed to be rhetorical anyway, Rile and Decker walked in.
“We need to come up with a better place to meet,” Grinder said, noticing Shadow first walk in and then out again. “And somewhere else to stay.”
“Agreed.” Rile brushed his index finger over his lips. The two had been staying at the ranch’s main house, both thinking they’d only be here a short time.
Quint walked in and sat at the table. “There are other houses on the ranch that no one is living in.” He looked at me. “Not as nice as the one you’re in.”
“It isn’t necessary that you house our crew,” said Rile. “We aren’t with SIS any longer.”
Given Quint’s father was the chief of MI6, when we all worked under him, we’d stayed at the ranch when missions brought us to this part of the States. The place provided the type of security we’d needed to execute our ops. Rile was right. Now that we were an independent entity, we couldn’t continue relying on Quint’s hospitality.
I hated the idea I’d need to find another place to live. However, the bottom line was, the level of international intelligence work we did, didn’t leave time for me to simultaneously live out my childhood dream of being a ranch hand. Quint shouldn’t be supplying housing for me any more than for Grinder or Rile.
“It’s foolish for you to stay anywhere else.” Quint set the salt shaker in front of him and moved the pepper shaker to the side. “Here’s where we are.” He picked up the salt and set it down. “Here’s where Edge is.” He did the same thing with the pepper. He’d run out of seasoning to illustrate his point, so he used his finger. “There’s a house here, here, and here. All sitting vacant. I doubt any of you will stick around Texas after you’ve worked this job.” Quint looked at me again. “For lack of a better word.”
I nodded. “Job is as good a word as any.”
“Stay on the ranch for the time being. It’s no skin off my back.” He smiled at Shadow, who was standing in the kitchen, listening to our conversation. “I’ll admit it will be nice to have the main house to ourselves.”
“Can we get down to business now?” asked Decker.
When we all muttered our agreement, he continued. “We need to get someone on the inside of the Aryan Brotherhood.”
I agreed.
“What about Ink?” asked Grinder.
Both Rile and I shook our heads. I doubted he was thinking the same thing I was, but maybe.
“Jagger?”