Culver was getting to her. I couldn’t blame her, since that man was creepy as fuck, but his threat was just so heavy-handed and obvious. Still, she fell for it with absolutely no effort.

Culver tossing around threats seemed pretty desperate, though. So far, he’d basically ignored Hartley or treated her like window dressing. He hadn’t bothered to try intimidating her, since he knew he probably could no matter what.

What did it mean now that he was pressing Hartley and trying to rush us? I guessed that the mafia was getting impatient and wanted their shipment back. Possibly there were some internal issues too, but I couldn’t exactly know that up front.

That could be good, though. The more disorganized and desperate they were, the more likely they were to make mistakes. I didn’t need mistakes, though. All I needed was for them to trust me and let me do my thing, and I knew I could trap them.

Hartley was strong. She was afraid and worried for her family, but she was strong as hell. I knew she wouldn’t do something rash just because that Culver piece of shit intimidated her. She had to be past that. She had to trust me.

Either way, I was going to need to get some backup, even if it was just for show. Fortunately, I had a whole squad of talented and loyal men that I could call on at any given moment. And I happened to know for a fact that they were all fucking free.

I got out my phone and dialed the first number. Gage answered on the second ring.

“Hey, boss,” he said.

I cringed at that. “Not the boss,” I said.

“Whatever. What do you need?”

“Are you busy?”

“Not exactly. I planned on drinking too much and bringing some piece of ass back to my place, but I can be persuaded to postpone that.”

I laughed. That was typical Gage. Tall and broad, he was our hand-to-hand combat expert, and he was damn good with stealth maneuvers. He loved to drink and fuck, like most of the SEALs I knew.

“Listen, I got a job I need help with.”

“This one paying?”

“Maybe, but probably not. Depends on how it goes.”

“Do I get to shoot someone?”

I grinned. “That’s likely.”

“Well shit, boss, I’m bored as hell out here. Where are you?”

“Knoxville, Georgia. I’ll send you coordinates.”

“Roger that. When do you need me?”

“As soon as possible. On your way, can you swing by and grab Flynn?”

“Sure I can. You talk to him yet?”

“Not yet.”

He laughed. “I’d do that first.”

“Why?”

“Flynn is—well, I’ll let you find that out yourself. Just call him.”

“All right. I’ll let you know.”

“Adios, boss.”

I hung up and shook my head. I hated getting my squad mates involved in this shit, but I didn’t have any other choice. They were the only men I trusted in this whole world. The fact that this thing wasn’t exactly legal, though, might not sit well with all of them, which was why I was looking up Flynn and Gage. Of the squad, they had the loosest morals, or at least they wouldn’t mind what I was doing so long as I was helping someone.

I called up Flynn. His number rang and rang, and I was getting ready to hang up on him. Finally, though, someone picked up.

“Yeah?”

It was a woman’s voice.

“I’m looking for Flynn,” I said.

“No kidding. This is his number. Who’s this?”

I shook my head, amazed. “This is Travis. Where’s Flynn?”

“I don’t know a Travis.”

“Can you just—”

“Flynn?” I heard her yell. “Who’s Travis?”

I held back my laughter as I heard some muted conversation, the phone rustling against something. Finally, Flynn came on the line.

“Travis,” he said. “Sorry about that.”

“Who the hell was that?”

“Uh, I don’t want to tell you.”

“She your new woman? You shacked up, Flynn?”

“Not exactly.”

“Don’t make me pull rank.”

I could feel the discomfort down the line. “That was my mom, man.”

I burst out laughing, not able to contain myself. Flynn, the big badass SEAL, was staying with his mother?

“What the hell, man?” I asked.

“Look, she split from my dad, okay? She needed a place to stay. I couldn’t say no. She’s my damn mom.”

“Well aren’t you a great son.”

“Please,” he said softly. “Get me out of here, Travis. Help me.”

“You’re in luck. I have a job.”

“Good. I’ll be there soon.”

“Gage is coming to get you.”

He groaned. “No, please. Don’t send Gage. I’ll meet you anywhere—just don’t send Gage here.”

“Too late, man. See you soon.”

He went to argue, but I hung up the phone, already laughing.

That had gone easier than I’d thought. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, though, since most SEALs got bored as hell when they were on leave. We were built for action, not sitting around taking care of our freshly divorced parents.

I sent the location to Gage and things were moving.

A couple hours and one cab ride later and I was sitting in the back of a smoky bar, my head on a swivel. The place was a well-known dive in the center of town called The Clam, and plenty of locals were milling about. The crowd was half rich and half hill people, which meant rednecks rubbing shoulders with society folks.

Back in the day, it had been my parents’ favorite bar. They came here during game weekends, whenever there was a football game on or some shit. They drank until they couldn’t drink anymore, and my dad would drive them home blind drunk. That was probably where Ray had picked up that bright idea.

Tonight’s crowd wasn’t as boisterous as it could normally get. They were subdued, drinking quietly or talking. I would have preferred some loud yelling or something, just to keep attention off me, but that didn’t matter. I didn’t recognize anyone and nobody recognized me, as far as I could tell.

Ten minutes after sitting down, a whisky in my hand, I caught sight of him slinking into the room like a rat. Toad looked nervous and out of place as he finally spotted me and came over to my table.

“Hey, Travis,” he said.

“Sit,” I ordered.

He sat. “Everything good?”

“All good. I don’t have much time though. I need to get home. Did you bring it?”

“Parked around back,” he said.

“Everything I asked for?”

“Everything and more.” He frowned. “I’ve heard some rumors about you lately, though.”

“Forget about that.”

“What are you involved in, man? Should I be worried here?”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“I don’t know. Shit about the Dixie Mafia and about the Caldwells? I’m worried.”

I grinned at him. “You’re fine, Toad. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine.”

He stood up and I followed. We headed out the front door and then walked around back. I couldn’t wait to see it, and I felt like a little kid again. My heart was beating fast and I was grinning to myself.

I’d always wanted one of these. Even back when I was younger, I wanted to get inside one just to feel the power it held. It was like a mythical beast to me.

We got behind the bar and there it was, parked in the lot like a great white whale.

“Well?” Toad asked. “This what you meant?”

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Toad shook his head, looking nervous. “What?”

“It’s fucking perfect, Toad.”

The big tractor-trailer truck was exactly what we needed. The eighteen-wheeler was the sort of truck people shipped stuff across the country in, and a lot of guys in Knoxville drove one. There was a strong tradition of truckers in the town, and even my father had driven one for a couple years in his younger days.

“How’d you get it?” I asked him.

“Don’t worry about it. I just need it back in two weeks.”

“I can handle that.”

He handed me the keys. “There you go. She’s all yours.”

I handed Toad a little envelope. He tried to refuse, but he took it once I insisted.

“Good luck with whatever you’re planning,” he said, and then walked away.

Poor Toad. He was worried that by helping me out, he was going to get himself killed. I doubted that, but he understood this game. He knew how it could be. Every deal was potentially dangerous when you worked with dangerous and violent men. Toad was used to the risk, and I wasn’t going to treat him like a fucking kid about it.

I walked around the truck once, inspecting the tires and wheels. It looked good, or at least good enough. The container was empty, though it smelled like dog food. Finally, I got up front and started the engine.

Power, so much power. I pulled it out of the lot slowly, getting a feel for the way she moved. It was like a giant slug crawling along, and that was how I liked it, slow and steady and strong.

I took the long way home. I hit the streets, opening her up, letting her speed a bit. I got a feel for the handling, the acceleration. By the time I was finished playing around, it was well past one in the morning.

It took me another twenty minutes to find a spot where I could park it. Once I did, I walked back toward the apartment.

And as I approached, I slowly stopped in my tracks. Something was missing, but I was having a hard time figuring it out.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

My fucking car was missing.

This wasn’t a bad neighborhood. Cars didn’t just get stolen around here. It simply didn’t happen.

Someone who knew me took my car. Someone with access to the keys.

My stomach sank as I slowly realized exactly what had happened. I didn’t waste a single second. I just turned and ran back toward the truck, terrified of the consequences.