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“I’m fucking going! Where’s Grim and Indie?”

“Grim might be out in the warehouse checking our supplies. I’m not sure about Indie.”

Vi quickly texted her sister and asked for her location. She quickly got a response back stating her sister was walking through the warehouse’s back door.

Thank fuck.

“Get Grim,” she ordered Ghost as she poked her head out of the doorway and yelled for her younger sister.

Ghost rushed past her and out of the computer room.

Indie hurried down the hallway, confusion filling her face. “What’s going on? And why do you look like you’re about to puke?”

“Because I’m about to fucking puke! The Chens have Reaper.”

Indie blinked as that sank in. “What?”

“Yeah. The one time I didn’t go! And the phone they used to get a hold of me—I’ll explain that call later—was the encrypted phone. You have no special way to ping it, right?”

Indie curled a hand around the back of her neck. “No. We tested it and it was locked down solid.”

“Fuck.”

The two guys rushed back in.

“What the fuck, Vi?” Grim asked. “First the Russos nab him, now the Chens? You sure he was worth hiring?” When Vi glared at him, he threw up his palms. “Just sayin’.”

“No reason to say that shit out loud or even question my judgement. If you don’t like it, go work elsewhere. I think McDonald’s is hiring,” Vi snapped.

Indie breathed out a long, “Daaaaaamn.”

Grim’s jaw shifted and his nostrils flared. “I get you’re freaking out because you two are having…a fling…but⁠—”

“I wouldn’t do that right now, dude,” Indie warned him.

He should take her sister’s advice. “Grim, are you in or out? I don’t have time to fuck around.”

“Neither does Reaper,” Ghost added.

She didn’t wait for Grim’s answer, instead Vi glanced over at her sister. “If you can’t ping his phone, and he’s driving a rental that we can’t tap into, what options do we have for locating him?” Of course, she had the address where he had planned to set up to do the job—he always sent her that info before heading out for the night—but once captured, the Chens could’ve taken him anywhere, including Mexico.

Please don’t be in Mexico.

“Well, lucky for you—actually, lucky for him—I convinced him to keep a tag on his person,” her sister announced.

A tag? “Do you mean like an AirTag?” If so, that might help.

“Similar, but not that brand. The one I gave him is more for tactical uses, law enfor⁠—”

“I don’t need a sales pitch! Why didn’t you tell me about it?” And why didn’t Reaper?

Indie shrugged. “I wanted to test one first before I suggested buying more.”

“If this works, you’re getting one for all of us.”

“If it works,” Grim muttered.

She shot him another glare. “Think positively!”