Page 13 of My End (Iron Fiends #10)

Stretch

Boone’s mansion was already awake by the time I made it upstairs the next morning. The staff moved like shadows. Efficient, silent, and everywhere all at once. I found Jim in the front hall with a clipboard in hand, muttering into a Bluetooth earpiece like he ran the damn Pentagon.

“You’re on the east corridor today,” he said without even looking up.

“Guarding Boone again?”

“He’ll be in his office most of the day. Your job is to stand outside the door, not to make friends.” He glanced at me then, his tone clipped. “Got it?”

I raised my hands in surrender. “Was just asking if I should be inside the office. You know, to actually protect him.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “You questioning your assignment?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Nope. Just trying to be thorough.”

“Then thoroughly stand your ass outside the door.” He walked away without another word.

Message received.

The east corridor was colder than the rest of the mansion. It didn’t help that I hadn’t slept. Working nights had thrown my system into a tailspin, and now I was dragging through daylight like a hungover vampire. The hallway smelled like furniture polish and stale ambition.

I took my spot outside the office. Thick mahogany doors blocked everything inside, but I didn’t need to see Boone to know he was in there scheming with Gibbs. The two of them had the combined charm of a snake pit. Still, if I played this right, I could finally get what I needed.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

We weren’t supposed to take calls on duty. No one should even have this number.

My gut tightened as I pulled the burner out.

Unknown number.

I stepped to the side and pretended to scratch my temple as I answered quietly. “Hello?”

“Stretch?”

My spine straightened. I turned my back to the door. “What the fuck are you calling this number for?” I snapped, my voice low, and panic threaded through every syllable.

“Pretty sure I’m the one who should be asking you what the fuck you’re doing,” Dice shot back. “You’re fucking working for—”

“Don’t fucking worry about what I’m doing,” I hissed.

“Yeah? Don’t worry, huh? Then I won’t tell you the Banachi are two steps away from taking you fucking out, man.”

Silence.

Dead air.

“The Banachi?” I whispered. “What the hell do they have to do with this?”

“If you were fucking here, you’d know they’re helping us,” Dice growled. “They’re going to clean house. And you, Stretch?” I could hear his exhale over the line. “You’re about to be next.”

I let out a long string of curses under my breath.

This was bad.

You didn’t fuck around with the Banachi and expect to come out clean. Those guys didn’t send warning shots; they sent bodies.

“Get the fuck out of there, man,” Dice ordered. “I’m serious. Ghost out. Drop everything. You stay another minute, you’re done.”

“I can’t,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m in too deep to stop now.”

It wasn’t just about the mission anymore.

It was Tilly.

“You’re not hearing me,” Dice snapped. “The Banachi are going to fucking kill you.”

“I’m not leaving. Not yet.”

Footsteps echoed behind me. Voices.

Shit.

I cupped my hand to the receiver and turned.

Boone and Gibbs.

Their suits were crisp, their smug expressions intact.

“I have to go,” I muttered.

“No, wait, Stretch—”

“Keep the Banachi off my ass,” I cut him off. “You know me, Dice. Don’t call this number again. I’ll call if I need you.”

I ended the call and shoved the burner deep into my pocket.

Boone and Gibbs passed without so much as a glance, their conversation low.

I kept my face blank and nodded when Boone glanced my way.

I trailed behind them until they disappeared into the room at the end of the hall. Boone didn’t bother closing the door behind him.

Adam appeared with a large covered tray balanced expertly in his hands. “They in the den?”

“Not sure what room that is,” I said and nodded to the open door.

“That’s the den.” He smiled and moved past me. He set the tray down on the table just inside the room. I could hear the clink of silverware and low murmurs.

They were talking, but not loud enough.

I needed to get closer. I needed to hear every goddamn word.

I moved to the doorway, and my mind was spinning.

How in the hell did Yarder and the club get connected with the Banachi? They were big time. Way bigger than Boone and his political ratfuck games, I thought.

If the Banachi were involved, shit was going to get bloody. Fast.

I knew the club could handle themselves, but this was different. This was war.

And me?

I was caught in the middle, still undercover.

Still just inches away from the real dirt I needed to bring Boone and Gibbs down.

I couldn’t help but also think about Tilly.

She didn’t know. Didn’t have a clue who she was living with.

She thought Boone was just a high-powered asshole with political greatness in his sights.

She didn’t know the blood on his hands and the people he’d buried.

The club he was trying to destroy.

The Banachi weren’t going to care that she was sweet and clueless when they came in to clean everything up. They weren’t going to pause to ask questions.

I ran a hand over my face.

I had to get closer and finish this once and for all before more innocent people got hurt.