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Her eyes were her tell. When she was taken off-guard her right eye twitched. When she was backed into a corner they became blank, almost unfocused.
Smith’s phone rang, pulling Nebraska from her trance. Stark relief shone in her eyes.
“Zane,” Smith muttered.
The reprieve she was hoping for vanished and her whole body went back on alert.
I knew that feeling.
The one where your muscles strain to keep you upright and you mentally brace for the worst.
What was her issue with Zane? He wasn’t the friendliest man. He could be a supreme asshole if you rubbed him the wrong way. He was a lot sarcastic, which was one reason we got along so well. And he could be downright lethal if you crossed him. But that didn’t explain why Nebraska looked terrified of him.
Unless she’d sold him out and we just didn’t know it yet.
Fuck.
“Yo,” Smith answered his phone. “You’re on speaker with Easton and Nebraska in the room.”
Nebraska smirked knowing Smith had included my name only to lessen the sting of warning Zane Nebraska was listening.
Smart woman.
“How’d the meeting go?”
Zane’s question wasn’t unusual but his tone was all wrong.
It was too professional.
Too guarded.
Smith’s head tipped to the side.
He heard it, too.
“Confirmation there’s a hit out on Nebraska and Charlie,” Smith informed our boss.
“What else?”
What the fuck?
No ill-humored comeback? No off-colored joke?
Something was seriously fucking wrong.
“He warned her to be careful,” I jumped in. “Went on to tell her that if something happened to her, Dutch would have to rebuild and that could be the end of Black.”
The utter silence was the last straw.
“Who’s Black?” I pressed.
Nothing.
“Zane?” I prompted.
But it wasn’t my boss who spoke, it was Nebraska and she was holding out her phone.
“It’s Maddon.”
