“Since you poisoned the well,” Hawthorne says pointedly.
The Seattle streets are empty—it’s late, and it’s raining. Perfect for my plans.
Nathan’s town house is dark when we pull up.
“It’s not even a nice town house,” I hiss out softly.
It’s one of those papier-mâché new builds. I’m sure Nathan lied to Jenna and told her it was state-of-the-art and that he’d worked hard and sacrificed for this piece of garbage.
“Is this the right house?” Hawthorne asks.
“Yeah, that looks like Jenna’s stuff on the sidewalk.”
Her fiancé, who she claims loves her dearly, just dumped it haphazardly on the sidewalk to get wet and ruined. The papers, some with my name on them in Jenna’s loopy script, bleed purple ink into the pages.
My brothers and I quickly load her stuff into the trunk of the SUV. Then Isaac picks the lock in an impressive five seconds. He shrugs as I give him an approving nod.
“Hunter thinks he has his liquor under lock and key.”
It’s dark in the narrow townhome. Jenna’s touches are everywhere—the blue-and-yellow curtains, the handblown glass vase with a daisy pattern, the fairy lights over the fireplace.
I whistle softly for Truman as my brothers fan out behind me.
The upstairs is messy. There’s a dog bed in one room but no dog. No Nathan or his pregnant girlfriend either.
“Truman!” I yell before whistling loudly for the dog.
“Damn it, Nathan must have thought Jenna might come back,” I say as I take the narrow staircase down two steps at a time. “We need to move out. He might have gone to a hotel. We should…” I trail off as Henry maneuvers past me.
“What the fuck?”
Henry’s eyes flick back toward me apprehensively, and he freezes.
“I thought we were here to steal things,” the littlest of my brothers says slowly, a banana-yellow stand mixer in his hands.
“I mean, I’ll allow it.” I wave him forward. “Carry on.”
I pick up a vase, dump it out, and add it to the box of high-end pots and pans Isaac is carting out.
“Where to, chief?” Fitz salutes as I get in the Jeep.
“Pancakes!” Scout cries.
Arms crossed, I let my brain run.
When I woke her up and demanded information, Jenna told me tearfully that Nathan’s new girlfriend wanted the dog.
Fucking bitch. I wanted to punch something, and I would if the little kids weren’t in the car, chattering excitedly.
Instead, I just stew in my fury. It’s just like when they took Buddy.
“I know where that dog is.”
I’d made Jenna give me the name of the girlfriend. A quick Google search brings up an address in a luxury high-rise across town.
The stand mixer is wedged between my feet on the floor of the Jeep as we drive across town. The lobby of the high-rise has crystal chandeliers, probably to make it feel safe for women. But Nathan’s girlfriend isn’t safe from me if she stole that dog.
I greet the doorman. “Georgiy.”
