“Aye.”
“Sasha’s holdings,” I stated.
“Aye.”
“Fuck.”
“Aye,” he agreed, tone bleak. “He left already for the States.”
“I should call Quinn,” I said. “And check in.”
“You should. Ramsey’s awake.”
“He is?” I let out a breath of relief. “Thank God. What the hell happened?”
“Stabbed by a woman. No idea if she’s related to all of this or if she was acting of her own accord. Knowing Ramsey, it could easily be a scorned woman.”
“Who do you think is behind this?” I asked. My mind searched for a connection, but I wasn’t sure there was one.
“I don’t know. I really don’t.”
What did burning ports, a hotel bombing, and Ramsey’s stabbing have all in common? Was there even a commonality?
“What are you thinking?” Flynn asked. “You’ve always been good at putting the puzzle pieces together.”
“I’ve got nothing at the moment. I’m just glad we’re all safe if not a little worse for wear.”
“And healthy,” Flynn stated.
“Healthy…right.”
Ash grasped my hand, and I clenched it but didn’t look at her. I couldn’t.
“How are you holding up?”
“As good as can be expected,” I said. “With you in London, it feels... I don’t know. I hate that we’re all spread across the world right now.”
He didn’t reply.
“Flynn?”
“I’ve got to go,” he said abruptly.
He hung up before I had a chance to say goodbye. I set my phone down on the table and looked at Ash. “That was weird.”
“Weird how?” she asked. Her cheeks were still stained with tears, but her eyes were clear.
“Weird like I don’t know.” I frowned. “Did you hear any of that? About Sasha?”
“About the ports? Yeah. What the fuck, Barrett?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, but I’m calling Quinn.”
“Good. Invite her and Helena to come over. We should all be together.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “We should.”
I met her eyes.
