Mack challenged. He still didn’t trust this douchebag.
“Just leave and let him get away with this shit? No fucking way, man. I have little sisters. If someone pulled this shit with them, I’d beat his ass.”
Mack resisted the urge to point out that a man shouldn’t need little sisters to recognize how wrong Royce’s behavior was, but this didn’t seem like the time.
“Do you know any names of the women he’s done this to besides Jessica?” Liv asked.
“No.”
“Where might we find that information?”
“His office. He keeps some kind of secret record in there.”
“Bullshit,” Hop grumbled. “No one would be that stupid.”
“Have you met him?” Liv countered. “He’s an arrogant prick who thinks he can get away with anything. It would never occur to him that anyone would uncover his dirty secrets.”
“Or that anyone would violate his trust,” Mack added, his eyes trained on Geoff.
“I’m not loyal to that dirtbag,” Geoff said. Then, with something akin to admiration in his eyes, he looked at Liv. “That’s why you scare him, I think. He knows you think he’s a piece of shit and have never been loyal to him. He’s not used to people he can’t intimidate or pay off or impress.”
A swell of pride flushed Mack’s chest with heat.
“Then what exactly can you do for us?” Hop asked.
“What do you want?”
“We need names,” Liv said. “We need to know how many women he’s done this to and how much he’s paid them.”
“Those would be in the files.”
“Can you access them?”
“I don’t—I don’t know. But I know where they are.”
Mack raised his eyebrows and nodded toward Liv. “What do you think?”
“I think we should trust him. This is the best information we’ve gotten so far.”
“I agree,” Hop said. “Let’s get everyone together tomorrow and make a plan.”
Geoff stood and handed Rosie the ice pack. “Thank you, ma’am. I should probably get going.”
“Nonsense,” Rosie said. “It’s late. Just stay here.”
Mack and Hop made matching noises of what the fuck, but they were overruled by a single look.
They watched Rosie escort Geoff to the downstairs bathroom. Liv stood and said she needed a glass of water.
“So . . .” Mack said when she was out of earshot. He motioned toward the bathroom. “That looked promising.”
“Fuck off,” Hop grumbled.
“You could just say thank you.”
“I’m not thanking you for shit.”
Mack grew somber. “We’re in over our heads, aren’t we?”
Hop nodded. “Yep.”
“You think we should stop?”
Hop hit him with a stare as certain as he’d ever seen. “Not a fucking chance. I’m in.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The guys, minus Del and Gavin, who had an away game, arrived at the farm just before noon to plan the next steps. Geoff sat in the corner like a hostage, alternating between biting his nails and eating cookies.
“What good does it even do us if we get a list of names?” Malcolm asked. “They’ve all likely signed NDAs. And if any of them wanted to come forward, they would have done so by now.”
“We don’t have to release names,” Liv said. “All we need to confront him with are the numbers. We can leave names out.”
“It would be enough proof to leak to the reporters at his cookbook event,” Derek said. “No one has to be identified. No one has to know where they came from.”
“I can cover our tracks,” Noah said.
Liv didn’t doubt it. But it still made her stomach hurt. “Just to be clear. We’re actually talking about doing this, right? Breaking into Royce’s office?”
Mack stood in front of her, close enough that he could keep his voice low, close enough to be obvious. “You’re in charge,” he said. “If you’re not comfortable with this, just say so.”
She wanted to kiss him for that but held back. She wasn’t sure where things stood between them after last night, but she still wasn’t quite ready for the public display of affection thing.
“I just want to make sure we’re all in agreement about what we’re getting ourselves into,” she said. “Royce has done enough damage. I don’t want any of you to suffer from bringing him down.”
“Then we’d better be sure we don’t get caught.” Hop said.
The plan came together quickly. Derek would arrive first and park himself at the bar to keep an eye out for Royce. Malcolm and his wife would make a reservation in the VIP section—
“Order the Sultan,” Liv said. “It’ll send him into fits.”
That would keep Royce occupied while Geoff snuck Mack, Noah, and the Russian through the back door and up to the administrative offices.
“What about me?”