Page 26 of Obsession
I glance through the narrow window set into the office door. A corkboard covers most of the far wall, layered with maps, colored pins, delivery windows, coded initials, and three routes marked in red along the eastern corridor. Obsidian’s system is cleaner than ours, less duplication, fewer middlemen, less ego baked into the movement pattern.
But there’s a bottleneck near the quarry spur that makes my fingers itch. Three red marks cluster too close together near an old access road, and if those mean surveillance points, splitting the escort won’t fix the exposure. It’ll just create two smaller targets.
Tally watches my face. “You saw something.”
“No.”
Demo perks up. “What did you see?”
“Nothing.”
Tally smiles faintly. “Terrible liar.”
I just clear my throat and keep walking. If they intend to use my knowledge here, I’m sure I can be useful but I’m not offering anything up on a silver platter. Especially since I still don’t know where I belong.
Names come with the hallways. Cade is the blond asshole from the kitchen. Ash runs one of the garage crews and speaks so little that Demo lowers his voice around him without realizing it. Pike watches the front entrance like he expects war to knock politely before coming in.
Halo is not to be called Halo unless someone wants a detailed explanation of why the nickname is inaccurate, outdated, andinsulting, which of course means everyone calls him Halo whenever he enters a room. Tally offers it casually, Demo filling in the gaps with unfiltered affection, mostly for people who would probably cuff him for sounding sentimental if they heard him.
Bricks appears often enough that I start tracking him without meaning to. He drifts near the side entrance before a call comes in from the lot, then moves to the garage hallway when Moth passes with his phone pressed to his ear, then settles near the main room where he can see both entrances and the stairwell without appearing to watch any of them. At first I think it’s coincidence. After the third time, I know better.
“He always does that?” I ask Tally quietly while Demo is distracted trying to explain why Halo once got banned from naming poker nights.
“Does what?”
“Positions himself near Saint’s path.”
Demo stops mid-sentence and looks toward Bricks. “Huh. I never noticed that.”
“You don’t notice chairs either,” Tally says. “That’s why you keep tripping over them.”
Demo glances at the nearest chair as if it might have plans. Tally’s attention moves back to Bricks, and something in her expression softens. “Bricks has kept Saint alive more times than either of them will admit. Saint doesn’t ask for much, or acts like he doesn’t. Bricks makes sure he has it anyway.”
“What does Saint need?”
I shouldn’t have asked that.
Tally offers me a small smile, but before she can answer, two men at the bar start talking low enough to think they’re being discreet and loud enough for me to catch every other word.
“Saint’s been worse since the corridor mess.”
“He’s always worse.”
“No, this is different. Moth said he didn’t sleep for two days after the Jersey batch hit wrong.”
“Shut up.”
“What? Rogue already knows about XR3.”
“Not that. About Saint.”
A chair leg scrapes sharply, followed by a pointed cough from Pike, who doesn’t look at me when he does it. The conversation dies so abruptly it leaves a space behind. I stare down at my feet, trying not to look like I was listening, while Tally sets a hand briefly on my shoulder.
“You’re going to hear a lot of half-sentences in this place,” she says. “Men love talking until someone interesting can understand them.”
“Does Saint sleep?”
Demo snorts softly. “Sometimes in chairs.”
