Us. Here. Finally.

Axl

Axl walked into the offices, looked right, and saw the men in the conference room.

Hawk, Mo, Boone, Mag.

He lifted his chin that way but did a sweep of the room and found who he needed.

So he headed straight to Jorge.

Jorge Canseco had been with Hawk the longest, second runner-up in that was Mo. Guys had come and gone in the meantime, not many. This was because Hawk paid well, bennies were great, and job satisfaction was high.

Axl was tight with the rest of the team—Jorge, Zane, Marques and Billy. But not as tight as he was with Mo, Mag, Boone and Auggie.

This was because Jorge was older, had seniority, was Hawk’s lieutenant when that was needed, was married with two kids, and he wasn’t ex-military. Jorge’s experience came from the street and a longtime mentorship with Hawk.

Marques and Zane were ex-military, but they were younger and newer to the team.

Billy was the newest member of their crew and his history was murky. Hawk didn’t share, neither did Jorge. Definitely not Billy. Even Elvira, who was a big fan of all kinds of sharing, hadn’t let anything slip.

That message was received so the men didn’t ask.

Now, Axl needed to brief with Jorge before he briefed with the men in the conference room.

This being before he left, went home, showered and changed for his date with Hattie.

And he needed to brief with Jorge because his crew was his crew, but it was also Hattie’s, and there were things about her the other guys didn’t need (and wouldn’t want) to know.

And Jorge would never share.

“’Sup?” Jorge asked when Axl stopped across the console from him.

“Day’s done. Debriefing with the team, then outta here,” Axl told him. Then he asked a useless question because he knew the answer. “Got anything?”

Jorge nodded.

Yep.

That was always the answer with Jorge.

You needed something, he got it.

Jorge gave Axl what he had.