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“Griffin,” Striker said.
“Boyo,” Griffin said. “Kalen and Bailey are about an hour behind you.” Striker nodded and Griffin continued. “I’ll drive you in and they’ll have a car waiting since…”
“Whoever is after me or my brother,” I said.
“There’s that,” Griffin said. “But I don’t think they knew you were in Ireland.”
“Can we have this conversation in the car?” Striker suggested.
Griffin nodded and we got into the SUV. Surprising me, Striker sat in the back with me, leaving Griff alone up front.
“Tell me what you’ve found out,” Striker said.
Griffin proceeded to tell him that a rival drug lord had been in town at the same time Matt was. Whoever Matt was working for in Chicago thought he’d come to have a meet-up with the other player behind his boss’s back.
“We are waiting for Matt to confirm, but we haven’t heard anything yet,” Griffin finished.
“What? You haven’t heard from my brother?” I sounded on the shrill side, but it was warranted.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. He’s deep undercover now, especially if they don’t trust him. He probably can’t make a safe call,” Griff said.
“And that’s it?” I asked.
“You could call the FBI and ask about him. But is anyone supposed to know he works for them? Or are you supposed to think he works for the Chicago PD?” Griff argued.
I sighed. “The police department.”
“Your brother is smart. Based on what I’ve seen when he helped with the Bailey thing, he’s been doing this a long time. He can handle himself,” Griff said.
I’d been telling myself that very thing since I found out, but it didn’t make me less worried about my brother. I squeezed Striker’s hand, which I’d woven with mine. He was there for me as I was there for him. If he couldn’t see we’d built a relationship against all the odds, I didn’t know what else to do.
“How’s my father?” Striker asked.
“Out of surgery and in recovery. I only know that much because Kalen told me to pretend I was him.”
Striker said, “You’re taking us to the hospital, right?”
“I doubt they’ll let you in, laddie. Not until he’s transferred to a room, most likely in the ICU.”
“I don’t care,” Striker said.
Griff eyed me in the mirror. “I can take you to the house.”
I doubted Connor’s father lived in a house. It was probably a mansion. “I’m going wherever—Connor’s going.” I had to catch myself. I didn’t know if Griffin knew him as Striker too.
“Well, wait to you see the place,” Griff said. “It’s something to behold. Six levels, twenty thousand square feet, between Madison Avenue and Fifth. Heated marble floors and, catch this, heated sidewalks so snow isn’t a problem in the winter.”
My eyes widened. My parents did okay with a six-thousand-square-foot two-level condo on Park Avenue, but Connor’s place near Central Park would be something else.
“Oh, there’s a roof deck with views of the park, and a swimming pool on the lower level,” Griff continued.
“Did you grow up there?” I asked Striker.
“I was at boarding school most of the time.”
I nodded, hating that I’d brought up that memory.
“Kalen notified the staff to have your room ready,” Griff said.
“I haven’t lived there in years,” Striker said more to himself.
I still had so many questions, but Striker seemed lost, so I said, “Maybe you should call the hospital.”
“My phone’s dead,” Striker said.
Griffin tossed him his phone. “Here. Use mine. It’s the last number I called.”
My phone was likely dead too, wherever it was. I hoped my parents hadn’t called. They would be worried. We hadn’t been gone a week though, so I crossed my fingers they hadn’t called. “Griffin, do you have my phone?”
He looked at Striker, who said, “I have it,” and pulled it out of his bag.
“You had it the entire time?” I asked.
“Yeah. You didn’t ask for it.”
Sometimes you didn’t sweat the small stuff. Striker had probably had his reasons for keeping it from me—like me trying to make a call on the island and giving away our location. Yeah, I did that. So I let it go. Now wasn’t the time to debate the merits of him keeping my phone, considering he’d probably been right. Plus, his father could be dying.
I took the phone and asked Griff to charge it. He was able to charge both of our phones while he drove. My parents typically only called once a week, but I needed to make sure they hadn’t been looking for me. They’d been at the wedding and left the reception early. They wouldn’t have known my brother and I’d left without a trace.
My parents hadn’t left a message, but I wanted to hear their voices. Not wanting to be cruel, I waited until we were at the hospital to call them. While Striker was talking to the nurse to get an update, I stepped a few feet away and made the call.
