Page 25 of Down & Dirty: Rage

He always felt at peace around her and she was the only person who could soothe his soul and settle his thoughts. Who could calm him down when he was spinning out of control. It only took a simple touch from her. A word. A look. Though, sometimes all three were needed.

She might not even be aware of the calming effect she had on him. He never told her that when it came to him, she had a gift with her touch. Way more than with ink.

No, that was his secret to keep.

“You good, brother?” had him pulling his gaze from one of the tattoos on his arm to the people sitting around the table.

Not the DAMC’s table, but one in the conference room in the Shadows’ warehouse.

Where Vi ruled, not Zeke.

Her sister, Indie, was her “second in command” in the same sense that Chill was VP. But it wasn’t exactly the same since In the Shadows Security was a business, not a club, established by her father Diesel long after the DAMC was founded.

He started off offering personnel for simple security jobs like providing bouncers, security details, and shit like that. Then Diesel dumped the average Joe employees once he hired Mercy, then the rest of the original six-man team of former special forces.

It wasn’t long before the simple jobs became more detailed, more dangerous, more…

Mercenary like.

The Shadows were known to do “jobs” others wouldn’t touch.

Diesel’s cut-throat team was good. So fucking good that they could eighty-six someone without a trace—and had too many times to count.

Better yet, do it and not get caught.

Vi’s goal was to keep her team at that level of expertise. Because if no one else wanted a job, she could charge a fuckload to get it done.

Did her current crew have all the military experience of the original Shadows? Fuck no. Reaper might be an exception.

Not all on the team had military experience. Indie, Vi’s middle sister, was an Air Force vet and former Operations Intelligence Specialist. Reaper, the newest addition, was some kind of former hotshot sniper in the Marines. Grim was a former Army Explosive Ordnance Disposal Specialist as well as the son of a retired Shadow. Scarlet had managed to become a Green Beret in the Army National Guard, but still needed to finish serving her time.

All were impressive and solid assets to her team. But the rest?

Vi was just a bossy bitch. The other two without former military experience were T-Bone and Ghost. They were young, but those two had learned from the best—their fathers, also former badass Shadows—starting from the day they were born.

No matter what, each team member had a good head on their shoulders and Rage respected them, what they did, and their opinions. So, he hoped to fuck they had some good ideas on how to deal with the Sicilians.

One that wouldn’t get them all killed.

Rage glanced around the table, taking in each of them. He grew up with them all, except for Reaper. Grim, Ghost, and T-Bone also wore DAMC colors, unlike their fathers, but not while sitting in that room. In that room, they were Shadows first, Angels second.

“Thoughts?” Zeke asked everyone at the table.

“It’s fucked,” Ghost said.

“Agreed,” T-Bone said.

Indie gave her opinion next. “Damn stupid.”

Vi glanced at Grim. “You’re the explosives expert, what do you think?”

Grim shook his head. “Not excited about poking a fucking hornet’s nest. Especially since the hornets’ family got more than one nest. And a fuck-ton more access to some crazy-assed explosives.”

“Would hope you’d blow up the nest, not poke the fuckin’ thing,” Zeke huffed.

“Oh yeah, sure, just think we can go blowing up shit around the city? Easy fucking peasy.”

“Sounds like a plan, then.”