Relief floods through me. "Dimitri!" I let him pull me to my feet. He came through for me, like he always does. I'm safe. For now.
"Tane's got more than just a criminal operation. He's running a house of horrors. We need to shut it down," I say, my voice hard with conviction.
We drive back to the Brixton's compound in silence, Dimitri using his free hand to squeeze my thigh reassuringly a few times on the way.
As soon as we get back to the main operations room and I recount what I saw, I see my own anger and disgust reflected in their faces.
Devon's jaw tightens, fury smoldering in her eyes. "Good work, Aria. This gives us the leverage we need."
Brick slams a fist on the table. "His behavior is escalating. Let's take him down."
The others nod, determination steeling their features.
I know we won't stop until Tane and his sadistic empire are burned to the ground.
This ends now.
Chapter thirty-one
The sun beats down on my back as I kneel in the dirt, the rich scent of earth filling my nose. My hands are stained with soil as I gently pack it around the tomato seedlings, nurturing their fragile stems. What started out as a hobby in tiny pots in the living room at our old house has developed into a full-blown garden, my sanctuary from the chaos that surrounds us.
The creak of the gate draws my gaze upward. Brick's hulking frame casts a shadow across the vibrant petals as he steps inside. His usual intensity is tempered today, his dark eyes more curious than menacing.
"Hey, Dom. Mind if I join you?" His gravelly voice is unexpectedly soft.
I gesture to the tools lying nearby. "Not at all. Grab a trowel if you feel like getting your hands dirty."
“Always,” he grins, and I know he means it. Brick is always ready for whatever the universe throws his way, the crazier the better.
Brick settles on the ground beside me, dwarfing the delicate trowel in his massive grip. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he mimics my movements, clumsily patting soil around the tender shoots. It’s like watching a giant befriend baby chickens—cute but awkward as fuck.
I study his chiseled profile, a glint of admiration warming my core. Beneath the ruthless exterior lies a gentle soul, seeking connection amidst the violence that consumes us. In this moment, we aren’t two enforcers who spend our time inflicting pain, but two kindred spirits finding solace in the simple act of nurturing life.
Even monsters can grow plants if they try hard enough.
Brick's questions come slowly at first, his gruff voice hesitant. "How do you keep all this alive? Seems like a lot of work."
I wipe a smudge of dirt from my cheek, gazing out at the riot of colors surrounding us. "It's all about balance. Too much sun will scorch the leaves. Too little water and the roots shrivel." I meet his thoughtful eyes. "Each plant needs different care, just like people."
Brick nods, his fingers trailing over the velvety petals of a nearby rose. I've never seen him so gentle. There's more to this man than I realized. I’m so used to his wild schemes and random obsessions that I haven’t really stopped to consider the guy behind it all.
His attention is drawn to the large wooden box in the corner, curiosity glinting in his eyes. He peers inside, watching the wriggling mass of worms churning the waste into fertile soil.
"What's this? Some kind of worm party?" His lips quirk into a crooked grin.
I chuckle at his choice of words. "It's a worm farm. The worms break down organic material into nutrient-rich fertilizer. Nature's way of recycling."
Brick studies the writhing creatures, lost in contemplation. "So they take something useless and turn it into something valuable."
I nod, sensing the deeper meaning behind his words. We too take society's chaos and try to cultivate something good from it, although we might create some trouble in the process. The worms are a metaphor for our own special form of transformation.
Brick falls silent, gazing out at the vibrant life surrounding us. In this moment, we're not predators, but total plant daddies. And perhaps from even the darkest places, beauty can grow.
I scoop up a handful of the dark, crumbly compost from the worm farm and hold it out to Brick.
"Here, feel this. The worms break down waste and excrete these castings which are full of nutrients for the plants."
Brick takes the compost, rubbing it between his calloused fingers. His brows lift in surprise. "It's so soft and rich. The worms made this?"