Page 58 of Direct Action

That wasn’t exclusively true. If we couldn’t find what we needed electronically—and so far we were coming up empty—we’d need someone to get us the full membership list.

“Okay. But if you’re staying, so am I.”

Fuck. There it was.

“Chloe,” I growled in warning.

Big hazel eyes soft with worry latched on to mine.

“You know there’s no way I can quit if Poppy stays.”

There it was—the unnecessary confirmation I was totally fucked.

Thankfully before I could blow my stack, Beck spoke up. “It’s dangerous as fuck, woman.” Poppy jolted, and when he had her full attention, he went on. “You go in as an informant, rule number one is you never forget danger lurks around every corner. No one is your friend. You don’t trust anyone outside this team. If you do, you wind up like your friend, or worse—dead.”

“Beck,” Pete muttered.

“You wanted my help on this,” Beck returned. “This is me helping. She’s gotta know what she’s walking into or you’re all fucked. One slip-up from her and your case is blown. She opens her mouth to the wrong person, she’s fucked.”

“You’re not wrong,” Pete conceded. “But, maybe dial it down a little.”

“Brother, I haven’t dialed it up yet.” Beck transferred his gaze back to Poppy. “Cat, Calista, Pete, me—we’re all in to coach you. But it’s up to you to keep yourself safe. We can’t do that for you, especially while you’re inside those walls. That’s on you. That goes double if Chloe’s there. One fuckup on your part and the both of you are dead.”

My gut revolted, but it was my heart that rejected the thought of Chloe dying.

Poppy’s face had lost some color. She was now sitting ramrod straight, but when her eyes narrowed on Beck, some of her fear faded. “Is there a reason you’re telling me this, and not both of us?”

Beck pushed away from the wall, came farther into the room, and crossed his arms over his chest. The man was a beast, tall and built in a way that would make someone think twice about fucking with him. He’d grown back the beard he’d worn when he’d been undercover in a motorcycle club, making him look not only dangerous but more than a little feral.

“Chloe rightly told you this operation’s dangerous. You said it wouldn’t be dangerous for you. That’s the first reason why I’m addressing you. The second is because you have a personal connection to this case—Cindy. And that makes you vulnerable. It means you’ll be reckless in your decision-making. Instead of operational security, you’ll be focused on justice, and that’s the worst thing someone undercover can be fixated on. Your first priority is making sure you’re alive at the end of the mission. Dead women can’t report in.”

I didn’t miss the renewed fear on Poppy’s face. Nor did I miss the way Chloe shifted closer to her friend. And there was the goddamn allegiance again. She wouldn’t even allow Beckett to have a go at her friend without keeping her close.

“Beck’s right,” Cat put in. “Priority one is your safety. What we’re asking you to do is unsafe. We need access to information, and it could take a long time before Pete and Ryan are invited into the inner circle, but the mission isn’t worth your life.”

Chloe’s head tipped to the side ever so slightly as she regarded me. A look I’d never seen from her washed over her expression—hurt, maybe. Miffed, definitely.

“You’re going undercover at the Vault.”

I might’ve been a man, therefore clueless as to the whys and wherefores of a woman’s shift in attitude mid-conversation. However, I wasn’t so oblivious I didn’t hear the accusation, thus know to brace.

“Yeah.”

“You’re going undercover at the Vault,” she repeated, this time with weighty disdain, along with a healthy dose of offense.

“Remember the part about this not being my first rodeo?”

“Yes, Ryan, I might be dead-on-my-feet tired, but I can still retain information. And being that I also speak and comprehend English, I know I didn’t miss you telling me it was going to be you undercover at the Vault.”

I might not have given her the specifics, but I was pretty sure at some point I’d begged her to quit and let my team handle the situation. So I didn’t understand the sarcasm and the filthy look she was throwing my way.

“I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”

“You don’t?” she snapped. “You being a member means you’ll be at the club.”

I still didn’t understand what that had to do with her and Poppy quitting.

Unfortunately, I pushed instead of shutting my trap.