Regan balks as if shocked she comes before anyone. I add to her surprise when I tell her precisely that. “You’ll always be first, Rae.Always.”
It is a struggle for her to keep her tears at bay, but she does, somewhat. They just pool in the corners of her eyes instead of gushing down her face.
“I’ve got to pack anyway. Our plane leaves in a little under three hours.” She gestures her hand to Grayson. “Go see what your brother needs. I’m sure he wouldn’t have interrupted us unless it was important.”
Although Grayson hears the slight sneer in her words the same as I do, he dips his head, agreeing with her. “If I don’t show you this now, it may not be helpful by the time you get a chance to use it.”
I return my eyes to Regan. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.” She breathes heavily, relieved I’m giving in. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Her fake grin dampens the confidence in her tone, but I pretend I haven’t noticed it. I’m juggling so many balls at the moment, I’m close to dropping them all. If that happens, things could end disastrously.
“Do you know your way back to our room?”
Regan smiles, then nods. Thankfully, this one is more authentic.
“Alright. I’ll meet you back there soon, okay?”
When she nods again, I lean in to press a kiss on her mouth. Just before my lips touch hers, she jerks her chin to the right, forcing my lips to land on her cheek. I tell myself it’s because she doesn’t want me to taste the salt of her tears, but there is a niggle in my gut that makes it hard to walk away from her. But she disappears before I’m even halfway to Grayson, her wish to flee darkening his eyes with as much suspicion as mine.
“Whatever you’re about to show me better be fucking good,” I growl at Grayson, taking my anger out on him instead of myself. I shouldn’t be doing this. Regan should always be my utmost priority.
“Have I ever let you down, Alex?”
He sounds annoyed. Rightfully so. He broke two bones in his hand knocking Jay out before he could reveal my secret to Regan, and how do I thank him? I get pissed for him having my back more than I have his.
Remaining quiet, he guides me into a room I didn’t know existed. Well, I did, but not like this. The number of men, computer equipment, and state of the art surveillance devices in this old boiler room rivals Theresa’s operation. There is just one difference: they have notably more intel on the man we’re tracking.
“You’re after Isaac Holt?” Surprise echoes in my tone.
Grayson shakes his head. “No. He’s small fry compared to whom we’re chasing.” He taps two fingers on a center photo in a board of many. “Henry—”
“Gottle Senior,” I fill in. “Fuck.”
My last word is highly appropriate to describe Henry. He is the mob boss of New York City, the cream of the crop on the FBI hit list. He’s the motherlode. Crack him, crack several crime syndicates beneath him. We call him the golden hen because every egg he hatches is made out of pure moneymaking gold.
“Is Isaac a member of his crew?” I try to keep hope out of my tone. I miserably fail.
Lucky, because it’s bitch-slapped when Grayson shakes his head. “No. They know of each other, but we’ve yet to link them from a business standpoint.”
“How can that be? You know as well as I do that Henry doesn’t associate with anyone outside of hisassociation.” I air quote my last word like an A-grade soft cock. Clearly, Regan isn’t the only one still struggling to understand the emotions racing through her veins.
Grayson does a weird shrugging thing. “True, but things are different between them.”
“Different how?”
Grayson points to three photos. Vladimir Popov, crime lord of Vegas. Col Petretti, slowly recouping mob boss of the Florida/Hopeton region, and Mario Taleo, suspected leader of a lower Mexican run circuit. “All of these men owe Henry in some way.”
My “duh” eyeroll stops halfway when Grayson quickly adds on, “Isaac doesn’t. Henry owes him.”
He hands me a photo of a man I’d guess to be late twenties, early thirties. He has dark hair, a well-built frame and the same sneer as every man in this room. “That is Henry Gottle Junior.”
My lips quirk.I was unaware Henry had a son.
“Details are sketchy, but from what we’ve unearthed, Henry Jr. and Isaac attended the same university. Some shit went down, and Isaac stepped in, gifting him a handful of favors from Henry Senior.”
Grayson’s intel annoys me more than it pleases me. I don’t want to hear that Isaac’s connections in his industry started nobly. I also don’t know why Grayson is wasting my time with this shit now. He’s got nothing useful for me, certainly nothing worth stealing me away from Regan for.
