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“Smoky?”

He mulled it over as he ran a hand over the rough stubble on his jaw. “Better, but it doesn’t feel right.”

She gave him a look. “Doesn’t feel right?”

Nate shrugged. “He doesn’t look like a Smoky.”

Rolling over, she reached for her phone and swiped at the screen.

“What are you doing?”

“Searching for names.” A few taps later, she rattled off a seemingly endless string of names until she finally hit one that stuck in his brain.

“Jet sounds cool. What do you think, buddy?”

The kitten let out another meow, which was probably cat for, “I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”

“All right, Jet it is. But if you bite me again, I’m changing it to Damien.”

On the nightstand, Nate’s phone started to play “The Imperial March” fromStar Wars, and he let out a heavy sigh. They were meeting with his family—the ones currently in town—at Six Points in an hour and a half, to discuss what Larissa and Rita had learned and to determine how best to proceed. Wade still didn’t know about the Aranza connection, and Nate worried about how he’d handle the news.

“We better get moving.” He kissed her again, wishing they could spend all day in bed instead of dealing with smugglers and cartels. “You can grab the first shower.”

She arched a brow. “You’re not coming in with me?”

“It’s tempting, but if I do, we’re not going to get there on time.”

In reality, they made it with ten minutes to spare. With Jackson and Navarre providing backup, Nate ushered Dorcas inside and locked the door behind them. Larissa was seated at the reception area, her infant daughter asleep in the sling and worry etched in the lines of her face.

“What’s wrong?” Nate asked, bracing for the worst.

“I told Wade about Aranza when I came in this morning.” Before he could speak a word, she added, “I thought it would be better to tell him myself, rather than ambush him with the news in a room full of people.”

“Fuck.” He rocked back on his heels and jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. While he understood her decision to tell Wade on her own, he didn’t necessarily agree with it. But that was neither here nor there. What mattered now was dealing with the fallout. “How’d he handle it?”

“About as well as can be expected. Still, it was a little unnerving. He didn’t say anything for a minute or so, and then he just said thanks and went to the gym. Last I checked, he was still in there, pounding away at the heavy bag.”

“Where’s Austin?”

“He’s on his way back from EMQ. He should be here any minute.”

Nate paused to weigh his options. He could wait for Austin, but he’d rather not. Because in spite of what Wade said the other day, he still felt a responsibility to his brother, one that ran even deeper than the bonds of family. “You might as well go to the conference room. I’ll go get Wade.”

Larissa’s eyebrows drew down. “Don’t you want to wait for Austin?”

“No, I’ll handle it.” He dragged a hand through the short strands of his hair. The urge for a fix rose in his blood, but then he looked to Dorcas, saw the expectation in her dark-brown eyes, and he knew that he could handle this. He gave a slight smile. “We’ll be there in a few. If anyone brought bagels, save a blueberry for me.”

Nate made his way down the long corridor, and as he approached the workout room, he heard the continuous loud cracking noises that came from something being pummeled.

For such a big guy, Wade was remarkably fast, his face a mask of fury. Fists flying, he punished the heavy bag, a fever of hooks, crosses, jabs, and uppercuts, with the occasional knee and roundhouse kick thrown in for good measure. His shorts and T-shirt were soaked with sweat, as was his hair. His knuckles were raw and bleeding.

“You’re putting a pretty big hurt on that bag,” Nate said, and Wade kept going as though he hadn’t heard a word. There were dark smears all over the bag, blood from his brother’s knuckles. “Larissa told me about Aranza.”

That got his attention.

The bag swayed on its chain as Wade turned to face his brother. His chest heaved as air sawed in and out of his lungs. “How long have you known?”

“That he was involved in this mess? About a day and a half. But we wanted to wait until we had more information to give you.” He glanced down at Wade’s knuckles, all ripped and bloody. They looked like fucking hamburger. “You should have taped those first.”