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“Doesn’t give the same satisfaction.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Fuck no.”

“That’s what I figured. Just putting it out there.” An awkward silence hung in the air as Nate scrambled for something useful to say. “When you’re ready to go after him, just say the word, and I’ll go with you.”

“The hell you will.” Scowling, Wade wiped sweat off his forehead, leaving a smear of blood behind.

“You can’t beat an entire cartel on your own.”

“Don’t need to.” He started toward the locker room, and Nate fell in line with his long, fast strides. “All I want are the ones who hurt her. The rest aren’t my fucking problem.”

“You’re still better off with backup.” A thought occurred to Nate, and it sank in his stomach like a stone. “Do you intend to come back, or are you planning a suicide mission?”

“I’ll come back if I can. But I’m not afraid of dying if that’s what it takes to finish the mission.” At the sinks, Wade ran his hands under the water to rinse away the blood. As he shut off the faucet, he let out a long, heavy exhale. He braced his hands on the edge of the sink, his head low, his shoulders tense. Then he looked up at the mirror, meeting Nate’s concerned gaze. “I’m going to do things that I don’t want you—or any other member of this family—to see.”

Okay, that didn’t sound good. “What, are you going medieval on his ass? Or are you just going to kill him?”

“He’ll die. Eventually.” His mouth twisted into a mockery of a smile. “I’ll do unto him what he did unto others. With interest.”

“Will that help?”

“Hell if I know.” There they were again, the shadows in Wade’s eyes that spoke of untold horrors. “At least Carmen will finally have some measure of justice.”

Wade crossed to his locker and opened it. He toed off his shoes and peeled off his shirt, exposing the tapestry of scars on his back.

“There’s no chance of talking you out of this, right?”

“None.” The harshness in Wade’s features relaxed a bit. “The best thing you can do for me is take care of Dorcas. From what I’ve seen, she’s good for you.”

“She is.”

“Do you love her?”

“Yes,” Nate replied without hesitation. The admission floored him for a second or two, but then it filled him with a sense of elation that left him a little lightheaded.

“Good. Don’t screw it up. Tell her soon, so she knows how you feel.” Wade reached for the drawstring of his shorts. “Now get the fuck out of here. I gotta take a shower, and I sure as shit don’t want an audience. Let the others know I’ll be there in ten.”

IT TOOK EVERY LASTounce of Dorcas’s willpower to keep from fidgeting at the conference table. She glanced out the window at the darkening skies that perfectly reflected her mood.

All of the women were present and accounted for, even the baby, who was sound asleep in her portable crib a few feet away. Larissa and Rita sat on the opposite side of the table, their heads bent toward each other as they conversed in lowered voices. Rita’s gaze drifted over, meeting hers, and she offered a faint smile.

“Relax,” Nina said from her seat beside Dorcas, and Dorcas realized her leg was bouncing again.

She slapped a hand on her jeans-covered thigh to still it. “Easy for you to say.”

This morning, Nina wore faded cargo pants, and her black T-shirt read “I’m here because you broke something.” She sipped her coffee and set the mug back on the table. “Trust me; Nate and his family are the best at what they do. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Dorcas wanted to believe her; she really did. Last year, Austin and his family had helped Nina break free from her family and their Russian mafia connections. But still, she was a worrier by nature, and she doubted she’d ever fully relax until she knew the danger had passed.

Austin walked in, looking sharp in black slacks, white dress shirt, and burgundy tie. He was carrying a box of bagels, which he set at the center of the table. Then he gave Nina a peck on the cheek before taking his seat at the head of the table. “Where are Nate and Wade?”

“I’m right here,” Nate said as he entered the room. His eyes seemed troubled, and she couldn’t help but wonder what put the shadows there. “Wade shouldn’t be far behind.”

He claimed the chair to Dorcas’s left and gave the top of her leg an affectionate squeeze. Larissa gave him a look; he nodded in return, and some of the stress left her face.

As promised, Wade stalked in a minute or two later, wearing black pants and a red polo shirt. He didn’t say a word, just sat between Larissa and Austin, a stony expression on his face, and aggression rolling off him in waves.