Page 32 of Hardline Torque
“And the merchandise?”
“We want it back,” he said.“Intact, if possible.If not—destroy it.We will not have our inventory repurposed for someone else’s moral awakening.”
One of the men shifted.“Black Tide won’t just hand him over.”
“No,” the leader agreed.“They won’t.”
He leaned forward, palms on the table.
“So, we remind them what it costs to interfere with us.”
The screens changed again—profiles scrolling past.
Names.
Faces.
Connections.
Victor Dane sat at the center of it all, red lines spider-webbing outward.
“Bring him back,” the man said quietly.“Alive if you can.”His eyes hardened.“Dead if you must.”
The room nodded as one.
Outside, unseen and uncaring, the rain kept falling.
Chapter Six
Victor woke to heatand weight and the unfamiliar absence of alarm.
Not peace.He didn’t believe in that anymore.But something ...steadier.
Tane lay on his side, back pressed into Victor’s chest, one arm flung above his head like he’d fallen asleep mid-stretch and never bothered to correct it.His dark hair was stark against the light grey of the pillow slip, the faintest hint of salt and soap still clinging to his skin.Victor breathed it in before he could stop himself.
That was new.
