“My man, look at these.” Felix gestured to the hanging pots. “Remember I told you how we helped save people from some cray-cray fanatics? The woman we really went for—Frankie’s bestie—was Kit. Being into gardening, she’s giving flowers to all of us who helped bust her out.”

Milo stared at Felix, then sneered. “You helped?”

Scowling, Orion turned, and one big hand clenched into a fist.

Hell. Hawk stepped between them. Bull got irritable about brawling in the parking lot.

“Not every fight requires fists.” Unfazed, Felix smirked at Milo. “I helped with the diversion. We staged a car crash at the front gate to draw off the guards and made enough noise that the others”—he nodded to Hawk—“could get the women and children out.”

“Staged a crash?” Orion looked delighted. “You didn’t mention that.”

“Zappa donated two rust-bucket clunkers.” Felix rolled his eyes. “Our piece-of-shit spewed smoke like a forest fire. Anyway, Erica’s crew raced ours, and we smashed the cars together at the gate and put on a drunken screaming fight.”

“Played right into your thespian talents. Way to go, love.” Orion set his hand on Felix’s shoulder. “That took guts.”

From the looks of Felix’s glowing happiness, someone was smitten.

“We weren’t in that much danger since the guards totally fell for it.” Felix tried to look nonchalant. “The pissers are… Let’s just say they’re about as bright as Alaska in December.”

When the sun barely rose. Hawk grinned.

Orion considered the flowers. “It seems Kit has a green thumb and a good heart.”

“They’re flowers,” Milo snapped. “Big fucking deal.”

Hawk stiffened. If the asshole said that to Kit, Hawk would—

“Dude, a verbal thank you is easy. Trying to give something back is far more rare.” Orion tugged on his three-inch brown beard and gave a firm nod. “I’m impressed.”

“Me too.” Felix pulled a pen from his pocket. After writing, “Property of Felix,” on the carpenter tape, he attached the strip to a pot of blue-and-white pansies.

Orion barked a laugh. “Ensuring you get the right colors?”

“Duh. The yellow would clash with my décor.” Felix leaned against Orion and batted his eyes. “As you know.”

Milo’s mouth twisted as if he’d stepped in dog shit. After a glance at Hawk, he told Orion, “I got something to do. I’ll grab food from Dante’s.”

As he walked away, Orion snorted. “Not like I wanted to eat with him anyway. Gotta say, boss, he’s got some skills, but every time he opens his mouth, I want to punch him.”

Felix snickered. “Since Orion’s a pacifist, that’s saying something.”

It was hard-held truth that some people improved after a few punches; Milo might be one of them.

No. Bad boss.