It hurt her.
It didn’t stun her.
“Nyx?”
Recognizing Hawk’s voice coming from the hallway, I kept my glance fixated on Rachel’s as I called out, “Hawk? I’m in the kitchen.”
She shuffled away, heading to the kettle she had sitting on the stove. The tread of heavy steps sounded down the hall as I watched her fill it up and set it on the burner.
“It’s okay, Rex. I wanted to speak with Nyx.”
Knowing my VP had gone to hang out with Giulia in the den they camped out in here, I asked, “What is it? I’ll deal with it.”
“You sure?”
I grunted. “I’m the fucking Prez. Of course I’m sure.”
“Nyx said to leave you alone.” He shrugged. “But if you’re okay with it—”
I knew I’d been out of it because of Dad, but his hesitation still pissed me off. “Get on with it, Hawk. What’s wrong? Why are you here so late?”
“Think we have a problem down at the strip club.”
Rachel frowned. “What kind of problem? Drugs?”
I saw Rach, my goddamn girl, drift away to be replaced with Rachel Laker. I could almost imagine a theme song starting up around her.
Rachel Laker, attorney-at-law, licensed to defend.
I almost smiled, but instead I asked quietly, “Inked?”
He nodded.
“Inked? The brother who works the bar?”
“He’s on the take,” I informed her.
She whistled under her breath. “The man’s an idiot.”
“He is.”
My flat response had her mouth tightening. “I don’t need to hear this conversation.”
“You don’t,” I agreed, so I stepped toward Hawk and shuffled over to the dining room that Rachel was letting me work out of. As he moved inside, I turned back to look at her and rasped, “Rach?”
“Yeah?”
Her beautiful hair gleamed burgundy in the under-cabinet-lights, and the desire to stroke that silk made my hands curl into fists.
Her eyes were wide as she looked at me in question, and it drew my attention to the expressive arch of her brow, the high curve of her cheeks, and the soft pout of lips I wanted to taste.
Fuck, she was pretty.
Unable to utter the words I wanted to, I just said, “Happy belated birthday, Rach. I’m sorry for forgetting.”
She swallowed. “Thank you for the gift. It came this morning.”
Better late than never.
Shooting her a tight smile, silently, I headed into the office, seeing that Hawk had hit the lights.
I walked over to the table I was using as a desk, aware that Hawk was hovering, and I sat my ass down behind it.
“What news do you have for me?”
“It was Rachel’s birthday?”
I blinked. “Yes.”
“There wasn’t a party—”
“There never is. Rachel doesn’t celebrate.”
He frowned. “Celebrate birthdays?”
I wished that were the only thing on her shit list. But it wasn’t. Rachel didn’t celebrate anything. Period. Case in point the lack of a turkey and all the trimmings in the refrigerator.
Ignoring him, I demanded, “Show me what you got.”
Shrugging, Hawk shoved his hands in his pockets, left one there, but dragged out his cell phone from the other. A few swipes on the screen and he passed it over to me.
Staring at the video, I watched as Inked took an order, didn’t ring it up, took the cash, then pocketed it.
Simple.
Without a word, I sent the video to my phone, then as it buzzed, let Hawk’s slide back across the table to him and picked mine up. Within seconds, the video had been shared to the group chat I had with the council.
It wasn’t just late, it was Christmas fucking Eve so I didn’t expect much of a response at this hour, but I turned off the sound anyway.
“Thanks, Hawk. Good job.”
He dismissed my praise with a shrug. “Should have gotten you proof sooner.”
“No, I told you to be discreet. I was fine to wait.”
His glance was confused, but that was okay. I preferred to be patient, preferred to understand what was going on behind the scenes before I acted rashly.
“Go home. Merry Christmas.”
Hawk’s grin was sheepish. “Thanks, Rex. Appreciate that and appreciate you getting me the time off tomorrow.”
I shrugged. “There’ll be more guards soon. You won’t be spread so thin.”
“That my Christmas gift?”
Snorting, I told him, “Yeah. Santa thinks you’ve been nice. Go on, get out of here.”
As he departed, I stared at nothing in particular, trying to organize my thoughts, but in the face of Dad’s request, this petty thievery was… nonsense.
Scratching a hand over my beard, I ignored the few texts that had trickled in from councilors who were awake and connected a call to Lodestar.
“‘Sup?”
“Got a hypothetical for you.”
“This about Inked?”
I grunted under my breath. “Whose phone have you hijacked?”
She sniffed. “Look, I retrieved my malware from your cell. You never said anything about the council text chat, and dude, you should be asking me to up the security on that, not bitching about me getting inside. Maverick’s OS is tight, but it could do with some tweaks—”
“Lodestar, this isn’t about Inked.”
Silence.
“Oh. Shit. I gave that away.”
I rolled my eyes at nothing then muttered, “Make the tweaks. Do whatever you have to do to make the lines of communication secure.”
“And kick myself out of the chat afterward?”
Pondering that, I murmured, “You know we’d kill you if you turned us in.”
“You’d have to catch me first,” she pointed out, “but I’m loyal to the Sinners. You don’t have to worry about me turning rat.”
“I didn’t think I had to, but I was just confirming it.” More like ramming home her impending death if she betrayed us.
“So, don’t kick myself out of the chat?”
“No.” I sighed heavily. “I need… advice.”
“I already looked into Inked’s bank accounts. Whatever he’s stealing, he must be snorting or injecting because it’s not padding—”
“Star, dammit, it isn’t about Inked,” I snapped.
“Huh. Okay, Mr. Grouch. What is it?”
“How do you… kill someone and make it look like a natural cause?”
“I’m going to assume this isn’t hypothetical, even if you said it was before?”
“No.”
She fell quiet, but I heard the tapping of her fingers against the keys.
A part of me thought she wasn’t concentrating, but I knew how her brain worked. The past six months had given me an insight into the fucked-up majesty that was the interior of her skull. I didn’t try to understand its inner workings, was just grateful she was on my side and not an enemy.
After a good minute of silence though, I grumbled, “Star? Is this a busy time?”
“No. Coding helps me think.” She hesitated. “For Bear, right? Or someone else?”