Page 129 of Dock

“Berkleys had someone send out a fake email from the college, which is how they caught my attention. Camera networks were down, so no clue what the person looked like, but I assume they are part of the same collection team that kidnapped Emaline – my Old Lady – for this exchange,” I announce prior to removing the folded piece of paper from my pocket. “Extra fucking zeroes for their ‘pain and suffering’.”

He takes the note from me, yet it’s Flames who asks, “Is Emaline her Old Lady name? ‘Cause that just sounds like…a regular name.” His interrogation continues while Kegger scans the inside of the paper. “Is that we call her?”

“Bay,” instinctively leaves me.

“B-A-E?” Toke curiously follows up. “Like the acronym?”

“Can you spell acronym?” taunts Tex.

“Little surprised he can say it,” Bones chuckles.

The memory of her singing it our first morning together ruthlessly pins me against the wall by the throat, making it hard to clarify, “Like the song.”

“Shit taste in dudes but great taste in tunes,” compliments Mack during an approving nod.

“We don’t negotiate with traffickers,” Kegger casually announces and throws the paper towards the center of the table, “and even if we fucking did that price would never leave this club.” He throws his attention over to Dive. “What do you know about whoever the fuck took this job? And where the fuck did the Berkleys get the funds to commission it?”

“Unknown x2,” Dive answers, arms folding across his chest. “All their shit is unchanged and still mega unavail.”

Tex suddenly asks, “What’s he do for a living? Is there a corporate card or funds that maybe he got a hold of? Something not in his name but in his far-reaching arsenal?”

“Uh…” Dive momentarily lets his eyes drift to the ceiling to run through his mental files, “I think the shit said…Senior Administrator of Academic Private Development for the Avallone Affluent Educational Organization.”

Flames’s frame bends forward alongside a scoffed, “What?”

“He runs shit for the expensive private school system,” Bones effortlessly translates. “Probably a Dean or Principal or something.”

Dean.

“Fuck,” is airily attached to the scrubbing of my face, “that’s how he knew about us.” All eyes shift over to me for further explanation. “Berkley runs the school shit Emmerz is tied to.” Shaking my head can’t be stopped. “She mentioned something about possibly needing a new job because the Dean knew and didn’t approve of her fucking around with guys like me, but she never said his name, just that people had seen us, which means he had seen us and knew exactly how the fuck to get to me and in turn, the club.”

“That’s,” Dive shoots a finger in my direction, “probably how he paid for their services. Embezzled some funds from the school accounts and just figured he’d put it back before anyone could notice.”

Deeds shake his head. “Resourceful motherfucker.”

“I gotta meet the negotiator back at Emmerz’s place in a couple hours.” Giving the back of my neck a squeeze occurs in hopes of finding an ounce of reprieve. “Duffle of clean cash. Alone. He’ll take me to her, and I’ll hand off the bills when he hands off my woman.”

Dive nonchalantly informs, “I know a trick to keep tabs on your location.”

“And I’ve got an idea on how to hide reinforcements,” Flames begins to grin, “assuming it’s no more than three of us. Maybe four.”

“You’re in?” leaks free at a lower volume than intended.

“Fuck yeah.”

“Same,” Kegger swiftly claims.

“You know I am,” Dive proclaims only to have Stone instantly shake his head.

“Nah,” denies the man in front of him, “we need you to click clack hack shit.”

“Right,” grunts my best friend in displeasure before grumbling, “we really need more than one cyber intelligence engineer.”

“Another meeting,” brushes off Ink with a small snigger.

“In,” Bones says with a lifted finger. “I’m here. Might as well earn my stay.”

“Appreesh,” is said on a small kick of the chin in his direction.