Red Handed by Jessa Wilder

“Put her in my room,” I directed, as we all shuffled inside.

Rush raised an eyebrow at me, shifting a sleeping Raegan in his arms, trying not to wake her. “You sure, bro?”

“Yeah. We can’t put her on the couch. I need to hook the laptop up to the TV.”

“But—”

“Just do it,” I cut him off sharply.

How she was sleeping through this was beyond me. It was over-complicating things, that was for fucking sure.

Rush opened my bedroom door with his elbow and carried Raegan inside. I looked up to find Beck giving me the same weird look that Rush just had.

“What?” I snapped.

“Nothing,” he said in a tone that implied there was something.

“Fuck off.” I put the laptop and my gun on the table and stalked over to the fridge. I needed to shower and eat something. Some vodka. Not necessarily in that order.

Beck leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. “I can’t believe I’m going to be the one to point this out because I trust her, but you realize she’s a thief, right?”

“Obviously I fucking realize that. What were we just doing?” I closed the fridge, giving up.

“Yeah, but Nico… are you okay, man?”

I glanced at him as I sat down at the kitchen table. He looked seriously concerned, which just pissed me off. Jesus fucking Christ, I could swear last week no one questioned shit I did this much.

I knew what they were getting at. I didn’t let anyone in my room. Ever. Women were allowed in my suite, but not my room. Partly because it was harder to get rid of them that way, and partly because there was shit worth stealing in there. Not expensive shit or money, although there was some of that too. No, my laptop was in there, plus my safe, a decent amount of weapons…

“It’s not like she could go anywhere, even if she took anything,” I rationalized.

“Why not put her in her own room?” Beck’s smug half smile made me want to hit him.

“Can we stop fucking talking about this,” I barked. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is the damn laptop.”

“Well, you got it right? All good,” Rush said as he walked back into the room and closed my bedroom door behind him.

“You’ve still got blood on the side of your face.” Beck tossed me a damp paper towel. It hit me in the chest with a wet slap.

“Thanks,” I said dryly.

“What happened?” Rush spun the laptop around on the table and peered at it, then hit a couple of buttons. The screen didn’t come to life.

“What do you mean? We got the thing.”

“Barely,” Beck said. “You almost got Rae killed.”

“She was fine,” I growled. “You don’t understand. There is no fucking way she doesn’t have some kind of training.”

He scoffed and threw me a disbelieving look. “So what? You still took an unnecessary risk.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “By letting her do her damn job?”

I didn’t even know why the fuck we were arguing about this. Beck was great at what he did, but he had zero understanding of risk assessment. He was like a fucking Neanderthal. Want now. Good/Bad. Pain/Pleasure. I didn’t have the luxury of thinking like that.

“They’re stockpiling weapons,” I said, more casually than I felt.

“No shit,” Rush said. “How much?”

“I couldn’t count.”

“Why?” Rush looked incredulous.

Why? Because Raegan was in my lap, shaking like a scared puppy and I’d apparently been having a lapse in personality.

I ignored his question and leaned my elbows on the table. “Probably a couple hundred AR-15s. A few dozen M4s that I could see. Again, couldn’t get a good count.”

“Fuck,” Beck drew out the word into several syllables.

“So, do you think she knew?” Rush asked, not taking his eyes off the laptop.

I looked at him sharply. There was no doubt in my mind which “she” he was referring to. “Knew what?”

Rush gave me another "I’m worried about you,” look and I instinctively tensed. Motherfucker, this needed to stop.

“I’m just saying, Mount Summer deals in weapons,” Rush said.

“I know what they do.” I unbuttoned my suit vest and threw it across the nearest chair. “You don’t have to remind me.”

“Yeah? So, the Trilogy suddenly has hundreds of unregistered weapons and the only major arms dealer in the city is Raegan’s father. What does that say?”

“Who said they were unregistered?” Beck asked too-cheerfully.

Rush and I ignored him. A gang war was the last thing I wanted. When Raegan panicked, it wasn’t hard to understand why. I got the impression she wasn’t the type to get scared often. Fuck, she jumped between buildings, for Christ’s sake. She broke a man’s wrist and didn’t even flinch when I shot him. She and I both knew what happened in a gang war, though—we’d both lived through one and dealt with the aftermath.

She didn’t know. You couldn’t fake panic like that.

“They got them from somewhere else,” I said. “She didn’t know.”

“Maybe Jimmy doesn’t tell her everything?” Rush pointed out.

I considered that, but somehow it didn’t quite sound right. I was sixteen when my brother Dante was killed in the last war against Mount Summer. That would have made Raegan about thirteen when her brother died in the same incident. Dante, as the oldest, was supposed to take over the family and lead the Gentlemen, not me. Mount Summer ended up in a worse situation without another son to take over. Served them right though, since they shot first.

I’d spent the last ten years hating Mount Summer and planning to destroy all of them when I was old enough. In a fucked up kind of way, I almost hated Raegan more than Sophie. Raegan clearly knew more. I’d been suspicious after the shooting at the pizza place, but after tonight, I was positive. Jimmy O’Rourke had actually done something fucking smart.

He’d made his actual heir, Sophie, into such a fucking creampuff that no one would ever bother to take her out. What would be the point? Sophie wasn’t dangerous. Meanwhile, he’d turned Raegan into a dark horse. He’d given her all the weapons and tactical training you would need to take over a criminal organization. Mount Summer’s main dealings were in moving illegal weapons across state lines. I’d bet half my empire Raegan knew all about how that supply line worked.

No wonder Jimmy didn’t want me to bring Raegan here, or let her talk in front of my mother. He must have realized I’d figure it out immediately. Still, I wouldn’t underestimate Jimmy again, and I’d have to find a way to keep Raegan here, even now that we had the laptop back. She was too useful, and potentially too dangerous, to leave unwatched.

“Dude!” Beck threw the paper towel roll at my head.

“Fuck!” I instinctively glanced back at my new TV. If he kept throwing shit, I was going to have a rage blackout.

“You’re zoning out, come back to earth.”

I blinked a couple of times and shook my head, my vision returning to normal. “I need a drink.”

I stood and strode over to the bar cart, pouring three glasses of bourbon. Beck took one. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think she knew,” he said cheerfully.

I glanced at him. That wasn’t worth much, honestly. Beck was clearly halfway obsessed with her already. Just another thing on my growing list of fucking issues. Or, maybe not.

I sucked on my teeth, thinking. Both my brothers were obviously into her. That might be enough to keep her here. Which is what I wanted, anyway. Maybe I’d just tell Beck he could fuck her. Rush too, if he wanted.

Without warning, irrational rage surged in my stomach, blurring my vision for a second.

“Bro, look at this,” Rush said, beckoning me over to the table.

“What?” I asked, distracted.

He sighed. “That’s why I said look.”

He spun the laptop toward me. The screen was completely blue. “What am I looking at?”

“I’m going to take it to one of our tech guys to double check, but I think it’s wiped.”

Again, the edges of my vision blurred, blackness closing in on a point. One. Two. Three. Four...

From very far away on the edges of my tunnel vision, Beck asked Rush what that meant. It fucking meant that all the information had already been taken and now I was fucked. Five. Six. Seven...

I pulled my gun out of my belt and shot the laptop three times, bits of plastic, ink, and chunks of my table flying everywhere. “Fuck!”

“Dude!” Beck yelled, covering his head. “Not cool. We don’t shoot stuff anymore. Only in the gym.”

Rush brushed bits of laptop onto the floor with a resigned sigh. “I’ll cancel the call to tech support.”

My bedroom door opened, and I glanced up quickly. Raegan stood in the doorway, bright green eyes half open, her red hair a messy halo. The blackness on the edges of my vision receded slightly.

“Was that a gunshot?” She yawned, seeming totally unconcerned. “Please tell me one of you finally came to your senses and shot Oscar the Grouch over there.” She looked from the gun in my hand to the laptop on the table and grinned. “Oh, I’m sorry, Grumpy. Did the mean laptop scare you?”

I blinked at her, shocked. No one talked to me like that. Ever. Especially not when I was holding a gun.

Beck laughed. Fucker.

Raegan, who still had blood on her face from the security guard, waltzed over to the kitchen sink and grabbed a paper towel as though nothing strange was going on behind her. My gun went slack in my hand and my gaze involuntarily fell to her legs, remembering them wrapped around my waist, her tits pressed to my chest…Fuck. Did she ever wear pants? I was going to buy her some as a public service. Baggy sweatpants, or maybe a prairie skirt. A circus tent.

Rush gave me a look that spelled alarm. I closed my eyes, praying he would keep his mouth shut. “We’re going to have to move on to plan B,” I said evenly, putting my gun on the table.

Raegan’s sudden presence had shocked me out of the middle of a fucking meltdown, but we didn’t need to discuss it.

“Right,” Rush said, still looking deeply wary. “Well, I think that unfortunately means we’ll have to call in reinforcements.”

I closed my eyes. Fuck. I knew it would come to this, but I hated dealing with it. With her. “I don’t want to call my mother.”

Jesus, that statement made me sound fucking twelve years old.

“Quick question, Grumpy,” Raegan said, leaning against the sink. “Did you ever play the guitar as a teenager? You seem like a Wonderwall type to me.”

I stared at her, nonplussed. “What?”

“I’m going to assume you did. You have a very ‘no one understands me’ kind of vibe.”

Beck laughed, and I shot him a mutinous look. “What is the point of this fucking conversation?”

Raegan shrugged. “Just curious. What’s the deal with your mom, anyway?”

I tried not to look at her as I answered. I needed to stop fucking looking at her. “What do you mean?”

“I thought she ran the company? I don’t get it.”

“She technically runs the real estate company we’ve been building to change the public perception of the family. I’m the head of the family and of the Gentlemen. I own everything though, so it doesn’t really matter what her actual job title is.” I didn’t know why I was explaining this to her. Although, if Jimmy had her spying on us, that was hardly the most interesting information she’d have picked up so far. Who knew what she’d already gotten out of Beck and Rush?

She raised an eyebrow. “Are there no women in the organization?”

I ran a hand over my face. “There are women in the family obviously.” By the family I meant the greater criminal enterprise run under our family name. She must have fucking understood. She grew up in the Irish goddamn mafia.

I needed her gone from this room. I also needed her to stay though—in the hotel, that was. Raegan was becoming such a fucking headache. I thought Sophie was going to be the problem. Actually, where the fuck was Sophie?

“Raegan, go check on your sister,” I ordered. “She probably heard the gunshots through the wall.”

“Sophie!” Raegan yelled at the top of her lungs.

“Yeah!” Sophie yelled back from the next room, her voice only slightly muffled by the wall.

“You good?”

“Yeah! Tell Nico to get a fucking grip.”

Beck laughed again. Fucker. I really needed to fix the wall.