Page 119 of Lash

Silas grunts something unintelligible and then shakes his head. "Inez, Boss, I don't like it."

She shrugs. “You don't have to like it, Silas. I'm not asking your permission. I'm still your direct superior. You answer to me, and I answer to J—to the Big Boss." That's the first time she's ever slipped, ever revealed even the idea that our nameless, faceless patron, employer, and savior has a name. She winces, annoyed at herself. "I appreciate the concern, and I understand you want to help take him down. But I must do this myself."

"You're in no shape to go anywhere," Rev says.

Inez glares at him, her stare full of the vicious, venomous ice we all know so well. "That is for me to decide, Rev."

He growls. "Fuck. Fine, then. Suit yourself.”

She softens, just a little bit. "I appreciate the concern. I…." she tilts her head back. "When I return, things are going to be different. Change is on the horizon. That's all I'll say for now. Just be ready."

"We'll all sleep with go bags packed, Boss," Saxon says.

We all chime in our agreement, and then Inez claps her hands for silence. "I appreciate all of you. I appreciate more than I can ever say what you all did for me—that you came for me. We're all bonded by more than just the brand, now—we're bonded by this experience. I ask you to trust me. If I need help, I will ask for it—I have sworn this to Nicolae, and I will swear it again to each of you right now."

Chance rumbles. "Good enough for me."

Inez has a hard-sided, carry-on size rolling suitcase beside her, and she lifts the handle, looking around at each of us. Nods once. "Time to hunt down Rafael Sousa."

We all call goodbyes as she strides confidently down the hallway toward the exit, barely allowing any hint of the injuries she bears to show in her gait or posture. She pauses at the doorway where the women are cackling and shrieking and chatting, pokes her head in, says her goodbyes, and then makes her exit.

“Think she'll call?" Kane asks.

Solomon stares after her. “Yeah, I do. I got a feeling our part in this ain’t over, boys."

No one replies to that, because there's nothing to say.

With nothing to unpack and the women occupied, we all grab a drink and a snack and Rev turns on an oldSons Of Anarchyseries DVD, and we kick back, relax, and listen to the joyful sounds of female laughter.

It may not be over, but this is pretty damned nice.

Especially when Tatiana floats out an hour or so later, her toes bright pink and her fingernails neatly trimmed and shaped and painted a vibrant purple. She curls up on my lap on the couch, steals a sip of my whisky on the rocks, and half-watches, half-dozes.

One by one, the women all filter out of the room and find their men, and at some point, someone turns on a rom-com from the early 2000s, and popcorn is popped, and drinks are mixed.

Tatiana puts her lips to my ear. "Is it always like this?"

I nod. "It wasn’t always, but now, yes. We work on the floor at night and hang out during the day. But we do tend to spend a lot of time together."

She sighs happily. "Good. I am glad. I was nervous that I would not fit in, but they are all so kind and warm and friendly. I feel like I have known them all forever."

"You seem close with Scarlett," I note.

She nods. "I am. We bonded through that whole…adventure, I suppose you could call it."

I look down at her. "You are going to be happy here?"

She nods again. "I will be. I have a lot of work to do ahead of me to set up my business here, but it is work I look forward to. I have you. I have friends." She smiles up at me. "How could I not be happy?"

"I agree. I am glad. I don't want you to feel like you're leaving anything important behind, That you're missing something or stuck here."

She shakes her head. "I have never been to America, so it will be a change, and I will get homesick for Zagreb, but you will distract me."

I laugh. "I certainly will. At every possible opportunity."

She huffs a laugh, her breath hot on my ear. "Perhaps you can show me our room."

“It's not much," I warn.