Page 35 of Hawkeye

Behind me, van doors banged against their stops, followed by a hard impact and Trigger’s rough order for somebody to get the fuck down. Wraith dragged the second man away from the vehicle by the back of his jacket while Smoke stepped in from the alley and kicked a dropped pistol beyond reach. The courier under me stopped struggling when Trigger shoved his partner onto the loading dock concrete and planted one heavy boot between his shoulder blades.

I handed the courier to Smoke and turned toward Josie. She still held the catalog weight, her chest rising quickly while fury burned in her amber-brown eyes. Red finger marks circled her wrist, and a shallow scrape crossed the heel of her palm where it had dragged against the counter, but she was standing, breathing, and looking more prepared to hit the bastard again than collapse.

“Give me that, baby doll,” I instructed, wrapping my fingers around the brass weight.

“He deserved it,” she muttered, releasing it reluctantly.

“He earned considerably worse.” I set it down, caught the back of her neck, and pulled her close enough to inspect her wrist beneath the loading lights. “You gave me the phrase before he got a solid grip on you. Those seconds mattered.”

Her body settled against mine as though the men restrained ten feet away had ceased to matter. The trust in the movement struck somewhere beneath the cold rage spreading through me, and my cock stirred at the familiar fit of her curves even while I cataloged every mark that bastard had left. I wanted her naked beneath my hands where I could examine every inch, replace the memory of his grip with mine, and hear her scream my name for reasons that had nothing to do with danger.

Trigger’s voice pulled my attention toward the van. “Hawkeye, you need to see this shit.”

I kept one hand at Josie’s lower back as we crossed the dock together. The cargo area held plastic restraints, duct tape, and a black hood folded beside a toolbox. Photographs had been clipped together near the front—Josie leaving Wynnock, her mother unlocking the boutique, both entrances to the shop, the outside staircase leading to their apartment, and close views of the rear lock someone had tested.

Auction-house schedules filled another folder. Copies of formal documentation requests sat beneath a list of frozen consignments, several marked with handwritten notes beside Josie’s name. She reached toward one of the photographs, but I caught her wrist before her fingers touched it.

I took the stack and passed it to Wraith. “You’re not handling anything these bastards collected while planning how to take you.”

Her brows drew together, but she stepped closer rather than arguing. “They weren’t only trying to retrieve the files.”

“No.” I looked toward the restraints before returning my attention to the two men on the ground. “They planned to leave with you.”

The courier’s breathing changed. It was barely noticeable beneath the noise around the dock, but the slight hitch told me he knew more than a driver hired to collect a case. I crossed back to him, crouched, and gripped the back of his neck while Smoke kept his wrists locked behind him.

“Who ordered for Josie to be taken?”

The man stared at the floor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I drove his face into the ground once, controlled enough to keep him conscious and hard enough to open the skin above his eyebrow. Blood ran along his temple while I lifted his head again. “Try a different answer.”

“Tippon wanted the files,” he gasped. “That’s all I know.”

“Bullshit.” I angled his face toward the open van. “Files don’t need restraints or a hood.”

The second man twisted beneath Trigger’s boot. “Chet moves the merchandise. He doesn’t run the house crews.”

Stryker entered through the staff corridor with Zero and Bishop behind him, his gaze sweeping from Josie’s bruised wrist to the men on the floor. His expression hardened, but he left the questions with me.

I watched the second man closely. “Who does?”

“I never got a name.” The man swallowed when Trigger increased the pressure between his shoulders. “Everybody calls him the boss. He picks the houses, sends the crews, and gives Tippon whatever can go through auction.”

“And Josie?” I asked, my voice lowering.

“The girl started connecting the lots.” His eyes flicked toward her and immediately returned to the floor when my hand tightened on his partner. “She’s the biggest fucking problem they have now.”

“Her name is Josie.” I leaned closer to the courier, letting him see exactly what waited if either of them used the wrong word again. “You’re gonna remember it while you tell us everything else.”

The information came quickly after that. Tippon laundered stolen family property through legitimate estate consignments while another man directed the burglaries, using memorial notices and funeral announcements to identify empty homes. The break-in at Wynnock had been intended to measure how far Josie’s review had progressed, and the failed pickup was their attempt to take both her and the information they believed she kept outside the secured system.

They also confirmed the estate yard was being emptied before the Black Crowns could close around it. Property had been split between smaller vehicles and temporary locations, while the records connecting Tippon to the burglaries were being moved or destroyed. Neither man knew every address, but they knew enough to give Cipher more routes, names, and vehicles to trace.

Stryker looked toward Bishop. “Get them to the secured site.”

Bishop hauled the second man upright while Zero took the courier from me. Trigger and Smoke collected the van’s paperwork and devices. I left the cleanup to them because Josie’s fingers had begun trembling now that the fight was over, and every instinct I had placed her above the bastards being dragged away.

Reaper met us in the clinic at Black Castle. He cleaned the scrape on her palm, tested the movement in her fingers, and examined the bruising forming around her wrist while I stood close enough that my thigh remained against hers. His hands were careful, but the marks beneath Josie’s skin held my attention until the rest of the room blurred around them.