Page 5 of Kane
“You think this guy’s the endgame?” Nitro queried. “Or just the delivery boy?”
“Delivery boy,” I said with a shake of my head. “My gut says someone’s feeding him. Coaching him.”
Edge dropped his boot from my desk, leaning forward, all lazy charm gone. “So what’s the play?”
“I want him found,” I ordered, voice flat, final. “Yesterday.”
“You want him questioned or disappeared?” Edge questioned as he stood and stretched, spine cracking.
I turned and met my brother’s gaze. Calm. Even. That stillness was often mistook for passivity. But Edge knew better.
“We flush him out.”
“And if we can’t?” Nitro asked.
I didn’t answer, and a heavy silence settled. They knew what that meant. This wasn’t about payback. It was about principle. No one crossed the Redline Kings and walked away whole.
“Pull the bank records again,” I told Jax. “I don’t care how deep you have to dig. If someone’s paying him, there’s a trail.”
Jax nodded, already typing. “I’ll double the traps. Encrypt the vendor shell again, throw some bait into the payout stream. If someone’s still pulling his strings, they’ll tug.” Then he paused and looked up at me. “You think this ties to the offers you’ve been getting? The ones trying to ‘partner’ on Redline Speedway?”
“They’ve been getting bolder,” Edge mentioned casually. “The subtle threats aren’t so subtle anymore. Idiots think they can scare Kane into selling. Much to my amusement.”
I grunted, not a trace of humor in my tone.
Edge pushed his hands into his pockets, lips twitching into a crooked grin. “You know…for someone who’s got a billion-dollar racing empire, you’re awfully cranky when someone tries to break the rules.”
My eyes narrowed. “It’s not the rules getting broken that I mind so much.”
Edge lifted a brow. “No?”
“I mind when they think I won’t notice.”
Nitro smirked, dragging his fingers through his hair. “You wanna put out feelers? Shake the trees? Got snitches who owe me favors.”
I chewed on the options for a moment, then shook my head. “Not yet. Let’s not show our hand. Let ’em get comfortable. And stupid. Think we’re chasing shadows.”
Edge tilted his head. “And then?”
I met his eyes.
“Then we light ’em up and burn them to the fucking ground.”
3
SAVANNAH
The bells over the door jingled as I stepped into the only local coffee shop in Crossbend, Throttle and Pour. I let the scent of freshly ground beans calm my nerves.
The place wasn’t homey like Bean There Brewed That but had its own charm. There were chalkboard menus, mismatched mugs on display, and a plant wall near the front counter that looked lovingly maintained.
A woman in her forties stood behind the counter, wiping the top down with a practiced hand. She wore a band tee under a faded flannel and had a streak of silver in her otherwise dark hair. Glancing up as I approached, she offered a guarded smile. “Looking for something in particular?”
“Actually, yeah.” I pulled a copy of my résumé from my backpack. “I saw the Now Hiring sign in the window and wanted to apply. I have lots of barista experience.”
She set the rag down and took the paper, scanning it quickly. “Savannah Quincy?”
“That’s me.”