Mo wouldn’t be anywhere else, not with someone Lottie cared about finding trouble, not with Mag in the mix, and Mag was glad he was there for those purposes.

But more, even as tall and built as Mag was—six four and clearly someone you’d think twice about messing with, Hawk a couple inches shorter, but having that same look—Mo was gargantuan, and one look at him would put the fear of God into anyone with half a brain.

The jury was out as to if Mick Gardiner had half a brain.

They’d soon see.

They walked down a hall, into a secure area and Brock led them into a small room with a table and four chairs. Three on one side. One on the other.

Chained to that table was a man who Mag knew would be relatively tall when he stood, maybe six foot, a little over.

He was also undeniably Evan’s brother.

Her same straight, reddish-brown hair.

Her brown eyes.

Her slender frame.

There were obvious differences outside gender.

Evie’s hair was long, falling in thick sheets over her shoulders.

She was also all kinds of pretty and this guy was not all that good-looking.

And her brother had an olive cast to his skin, whereas Evie’s was flawless porcelain.

Last, this guy was straight-up skinny, and although Evan was slender and had smallish tits, she had a generous ass.

Before he’d seen her that had not been Mag’s thing. He was a legs man (something she totally had) and a close second on that was tits.

He was not an ass man.

Now, conjuring up the image of her in the face of her brother, he wondered what he’d been thinking all these years, because with Evie, he was all about her ass.

Mick Gardiner got a load of what was entering that room where he was about to have a late evening chat, and after Mo strolled through, he hid his alarm behind douchebaggery.

“What? Has the government picked me to be disappeared in order to force me to perform covert military operations?” Mick asked, presumably referring to the uniform Hawk did not require that they all had adopted of cargo pants, military boots and tee, or in Mo’s case, a compression shirt that left little to the imagination of how much he could bench press.

“Uncle Sam wouldn’t take you,” Hawk replied as he moved behind the chairs and jerked his chin up at Mag, his way of saying, I’m already done with this guy, sit down and get on with it.

Mick’s attention went to Mag.

“I wouldn’t have picked you to be the leader,” he said to Mag. “Boss.” He indicated Hawk with his head. “Enforcer.” He indicated Mo. “Sidekick.” He tipped his head to Mag.

“I’m dating your sister,” Mag shared, ignoring the slight and folding into a seat opposite the asshole.

The man’s eyebrows rose but his body went stiff, probably so he wouldn’t shift in his seat and give something away.

“I was with her last night when she had her meet with the guy in the Continental,” Mag told him. “And I was with her today when she got home to find her apartment trashed.”

Mick turned white.

But he did not have this reaction for the reason Mag would suspect—his sister’s apartment got trashed, and this indicated she might be in danger.

No, it was because, straight from his mouth, “She was supposed to go meet Snag alone.”

Mag stayed silent in order to take a very long, slow breath into his nose.

Once he’d accomplished that, he said, “The trunk on her car was also jacked. That’ll need to be repaired. Though that’s probably covered under insurance. But her apartment was not.”

Mick sat still and said nothing.

Mag decided to move to something this dick might care about.

“The Trader Joe’s bag was in her trunk,” Mag informed him.

“Fuck, shit,” Mick muttered, looking away.

Christ.

As suspected, Evie’s brother was dirt.

“Now, as you can guess, I give zero fucks about you,” Mag told him, regaining his attention, the man’s eyes forming into slits. “We’re here to find out how much trouble you landed your sister in.”

“Snag needs that bag,” Mick said.

“I can imagine. Your problem is, it’s gone. What needs to be communicated is that it’s your problem, not Evan’s,” Mag replied.

He leaned forward. “You don’t understand. When the time comes, Snag needs that bag.”

“I do understand,” Mag returned. “What Snag needs to understand is that if he wanted it, he should have taken it himself or chosen more wisely who he entrusted it to.”

“He couldn’t—” Mick began but stopped and jumped when Mag pounded his fist on the table.

Mag felt Mo get closer to his back.

Hawk didn’t move.

“You are missing,” Mag said low and slow, “how I do not give a fuck what your problems are. I’m here for Evan and only for Evan. She is out of this situation. It no longer concerns her. It never did. And the only person in this situation who knows the players is you. So, you either communicate that or you share with me who needs that message delivered and I’ll communicate it. This is what we’ll be talking about. What you need or this Snag asshole needs is of no interest to me. Now, how do we extricate your sister from your shit?”

Mick leaned deep into the table and hissed, “That bag gone, I am dead. Do you get me? I…am…dead. You gotta find that bag.”

“Do you have a hearing problem?” Mag asked.

“Evie is not gonna want her brother dead,” Mick spat.

“Evan is experiencing some epiphanies regarding her family,” Mag shared. “You wouldn’t know this, so I’ll educate you that that kind of thing happens when you open your apartment door and see everything you worked for reduced to garbage because your brother is a piece of shit.”

Mick sat back hard, his chains clanging.

“Now, guide her to seeing the light and prove that maybe you got something worth the loyalty she’s given you and tell me how to extricate her from your shit,” Mag pushed.

“I tell you anything, I’ll be put down faster than I will be when they find out that bag is in the wind,” Mick returned, and the chains clanked again as he tossed out both hands, which were cuffed to hooks in the table. “And newsflash, soldier, I haven’t forgotten where I am, you know, cameras and tape recorders and shit. So, anything I say here can be used against me, and first, I’m not a dumbass, second, I’m not a rat, and third, if by some miracle I survive this shit, I don’t want anyone thinkin’ I’m either of those things.”

“So, in an attempt to cover your ass, you’re throwing your sister to the wolves,” Mag noted and finished, “Again.”

Mick tipped up his chin three times to indicate the three men in the room with him and replied, “Seems she’s got protection.”

“I’m telling her every word of this chat,” Mag shared.

Mick couldn’t quite hide his flinch.

So he cared.

But did he care enough?

“She’s already asking herself serious questions about her relationship with her brother, you don’t help me help her, she’s not going to have a relationship with her brother,” Mag continued.

“If I tell you, she won’t have a brother,” Mick returned.