Page 11 of My End (Iron Fiends #10)

Stretch

I knew being around Boone and Gibbs was going to be hard, but I hadn’t expected the surprise that was Tilly.

What she saw in a man like Boone was fucking beyond me. Where she was gentle, warm, and welcoming, Boone was hard-edged, formal, and calculated. Cold. Gibbs was just more of the same. He was like a snake dressed in a thousand-dollar suit who smiled with teeth too white to be real.

And for a second there at dinner, it almost felt like Boone was trying to push Tilly toward Gibbs.

It didn’t make any sense. Unless Boone saw Tilly as just another pawn to move across the board however he needed.

Made me hate him even more.

I stood against the wall of the dining room with my arms folded across my chest and pretended like I wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. Just another shadow. Just the help.

But every word out of Boone and Gibbs’s mouths went straight into my memory.

Adam came back in, pushing a silver cart with a perfect little dessert sitting right in the center. A tall slice of almond sponge cake layered with raspberry jam and mascarpone, topped with sugared cranberries and a dusting of powdered sugar, he announced.

My stomach growled loud enough that Mick chuckled under his breath.

“You’ll eat when the wolves are done,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” I replied and kept my face straight. Jim had already told me that I could grab a plate once Boone and his guest headed back to his quarters. I’d been hoping I’d get invited to trail them and listen in on more.

Didn’t look like it was happening tonight.

Boone and Gibbs were deep in conversation again and practically forgot Tilly even existed as they devoured their cake.

But I hadn’t forgotten about her.

She was across the table from me, and it took everything in me not to stare. Not when she flicked her tongue across the fork to catch a crumb. Not when her lips curved up slightly after a bite. Not when her eyes, quick and sharp, darted to me like she couldn’t help herself.

Like maybe I wasn’t the only one having trouble looking away.

Boone finished his slice and leaned back to brush off his lap with a linen napkin. “You sure you can’t give Craig the tour tonight, Tilly?”

She cleared her throat and gently set her fork down. “I really do need to get back to work. You know how I get when I’m in the middle of a painting.”

Boone nodded like he was weighing her answer, then gave a single approving nod. “That’s true. I admire your work ethic.”

Tilly gave a polite smile to both men and stood. Her chair scraped lightly against the floor. She didn’t even glance back as she walked out. But I watched. I always watched.

She moved like art, and she didn’t belong in a place like this.

Thirty seconds after the door shut behind her, Gibbs leaned in.

“No one can find him,” he said.

I forced myself to keep my face even. Eyes forward. Breathing steady.

Boone sat back in his chair and tossed his napkin on the table. “He’s a lawyer in his sixties. How the hell did he just disappear?”

Lawyer.

Russ.

Had to be.

Gibbs huffed. “I think the fucking club is helping him. That’s the only way he’s been able to stay hidden.”

They were talking about the club and Russ not even thirty seconds after Tilly walked out the door.

“We need to just get rid of fucking everyone and move the hell on,” Gibbs grunted.

Boone shook his head. “You and I both know that’s not a possibility anymore. Not with the TV show premiering soon. We need to take them down before that happens. They’re just a bunch of fucking dirty bikers.”

My fists flexed at my sides. I ground my molars together and stared at the far wall.

Just a bunch of dirty bikers?

Boone and Gibbs were the real filth. Every word that came out of their mouths made it clearer. They were playing a long game, and it was bigger than just the club. Bigger than me, or Tilly, or whatever twisted plan they had for Russ.

Gibbs leaned back and swirled the last sip of his wine. “What are you thinking?”

Boone drummed his fingers against the table, and his eyes narrowed.

“I need to reach out to a few associates. This is getting harder and harder to keep quiet. If Russ had just fucking folded when we wanted him to, we would have taken down the club, you would be getting all the praise, and you’d be getting ready to take office. ”

Office. Of course.

This wasn’t about pride.

It was about power.

Gibbs nodded like he could already see the campaign posters.

“Yeah, but then his fucking daughter fucked everything up by befriending the club.”

Dove.

“Because you can never trust a woman,” Boone sighed.

Gibbs smirked. “What about Tilly?”

Boone waved a dismissive hand. “Tilly has her head buried in her paintings. She wouldn’t know the sky was falling unless it was streaked across her canvas. She’s nothing to worry about. Clueless as they come.”

He downed the last of his drink and stood. Gibbs followed.

“Let’s go to my office. The good scotch is in there.”

I moved to follow a few steps behind, but Mick caught my arm at the doorway.

“Go eat,” he said. “I’ll stay with them.”

I wanted to shove past him. I wanted to hear what else they were planning. Wanted to see if their arrogance would slip and spill more than they should.

But I just nodded. “Sounds good.”

Act like the help. Disinterested. Uninvolved.

Just a guard doing his job.

I turned and walked down the hallway toward the kitchen.

The second I rounded the corner, I let the mask slip.

Boone and Gibbs thought they were pulling strings in secret and thought their plans were safe behind velvet walls and security cameras, but now they weren’t.

I was inside the walls, and I was going to make sure every single word they spoke came back to the club.

Let Boone keep underestimating Tilly. Let him think she was too dreamy to see the storm brewing in her own damn house.

He was going to find out how wrong he was.

And I couldn’t wait to be there when he did.