Page 5 of Tyson
"There's something else." I kept my voice neutral. "About security for the wedding vendors."
Thor pulled out his phone, swiping to a calendar app I'd never seen him use before. "Eight weeks. Mandy's got everything planned down to the minute." His voice carried a mix of pride and bewilderment. "Florist on Tuesday, cake tasting Thursday, dress fitting next Monday."
"Each vendor's a potential vulnerability." I kept my tone professional. "We need security assessments for all of them."
"Starting with our own." Duke's eyes stayed on me. "What's the exposure level for businesses connected to the club?"
I'd prepared for this. "King's Tavern and Iron Kings Auto have established security. The real concern is Marked Kings. Corner location, multiple access points, large windows facing two streets."
"Lena's already working on the wedding pieces." Thor scrolled through his phone. "Custom designs for the whole wedding party. She's doing my piece next week, then the groomsmen." He glanced up. "That includes you, Ty."
My pen paused above my notepad. A fraction of a second, barely noticeable. Except Duke noticed everything.
"She's working late most nights to fit everyone in." Thor continued, oblivious to my reaction. "Mandy wants all the work done by the same artist, says it'll look more cohesive in the photos."
"Security for the tattoo shop will be challenging." I forced my voice to remain steady. "The corner location creates multiple approach vectors. Sight lines from the coffee shop across the street. Alley access on the north side."
Duke leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving my face. "Sounds like it needs someone with tactical experience. Someone who can think like the enemy."
"I can draw up plans—"
"You'll handle it personally." Duke's tone brooked no argument. "Full security implementation. That means daily presence until the threat's neutralized."
My jaw tightened. Daily presence meant daily proximity to Lena. Her purple-streaked hair, the way she bit her lip when concentrating on a design, that laugh that could cut through shop noise like music. I'd kept my distance for good reason. Shewas Thor's friend, under club protection, off limits in every way that mattered.
"Is that a problem?" Duke's question carried weight.
"No problem." I made another note, hand steady despite the acceleration in my pulse. "I'll need to coordinate with Lena on scheduling, understand her routine."
"She opens at ten, closes at eight most nights." Thor supplied helpfully. "Later if she's got a big piece going. Girl's dedicated, I'll give her that. Treats every tattoo like it's going on the Sistine Chapel."
I knew her schedule. Knew she grabbed coffee at 9:45 from the place next door, same order every day—large dark roast, two sugars, splash of cream. Knew she took smoke breaks in the alley even though she'd quit six months ago, just needed the excuse to step outside. Knew more than I should about someone I'd been avoiding.
"What about the other vendors?" I shifted focus, needing to move past the dangerous territory of Lena Rivera.
Duke pulled out his own list. "Riverside Flowers on Fifth Street. Sweet Dreams Bakery. That photographer Mandy likes, what's his name?"
"Marcus Wong." Thor supplied. "Arty fuck, but his work's good."
We spent the next twenty minutes dividing territory. Duke would handle the venue directly, his presence alone enough to make management cooperative. Thor would coordinate with the prospects, setting up rotating security for his high-value targets. I got vendor security, which meant my days would be spent ensuring every florist, baker, and seamstress in town understood they were under Heavy Kings protection.
And Marked Kings. Always came back to the tattoo shop.
"Questions?" Duke stood, signaling the meeting's end.
Thor was already moving, energy focused now, dangerous but directed. "I've got church in two hours. Gonna hit the gym, work off some of this." He paused at the door. "Ty, thanks for the heads up. Would've walked right into it."
"That's what brothers do." I started gathering my materials.
Thor left, boots heavy on the old wood. Duke remained, watching me pack photos into precise folders.
"You did good work." He moved closer, voice lowering. "Don’t know what we’d do without you."
"Just applying my training to a different battlefield."
"That include maintaining operational security around attractive tattoo artists?"
I stopped packing, met his eyes directly. "I don’t know what you mean."
