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“Look where they are.” He shoved the phone at me, but didn’t give me a chance to look before he said, “That’s Brooks Street Café.”
I relaxed and dropped the phone to the floor. With everything happening, Mickey following Jentry into Dare’s mom’s café was the least of my worries. Having Jentry in his crosshairs? That was fucked.
“The Borellos own most of Wake Forest, Beck. Mickey doesn’t know Brooks Street is Borello owned . . . Dare made sure of that.”
But Beck was pacing, hands fisted in his hair, chest heaving.
“Beck—”
“She’s there, man.” When my brow pulled together in confusion, he gritted his teeth and said, “Lily.”
I ignored the residual ache in my chest and shook my head. “You don’t know that.”
“She manages the café now. She’s there every morning.”
I hissed out a curse and stood, my attention going to the girl on the couch.
There was color returning to her face and her pulse was slowe
r and steadier, but I couldn’t wait for her to wake up. Besides, I needed her to stay here. I knew she’d try to come with me since it involved her brother.
Looking to Conor, I opened my mouth but he beat me to it. “I know, man. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”
I gave him a firm nod then turned to Beck. “Ready to finish this?”
“Fuck yeah, man.” He hit me on the shoulder and stopped so he was directly in front of me. “See you in hell?”
“See you there.”
“Did you see that?” he asked as we stalked toward the door. “I just hit you, and you didn’t even try to stop me.”
My chest moved with a silent laugh. “Shut up, Beck.”
His loud laugh was still echoing through the house when he flung open the door and stepped onto the porch.
With another look at my girl, who was starting to move on the couch, I grabbed the handle and softly shut the door behind us.
“What happens if we make it to Brooks and they’re not there?” Beck asked as we hurried across the porch and onto the massive lawn stretching between the guesthouse and my car.
“I don’t know. He’s too unpredictable.”
I turned when I heard our names being called and mumbled a curse when Conor came running out of the guesthouse, holding Jessica’s phone. “I told you not to leave that house,” I bit out when he got closer to us. “Or that girl.”
“Didn’t you just tell me that Mickey had Tommy killed?” he asked, ignoring me and holding out the phone.
“Why?” I demanded, snatching the phone from him and immediately going still.
Below the previous texts was a picture of Tommy.
It wouldn’t have meant anything if he hadn’t been standing outside the tent I’d just cleared out that morning.
Does your boyfriend think he’s the only one with secrets?
“Get Jessica,” I demanded on a breath and turned to look everywhere as my heart rate slowed.
Suddenly my palms were filled with the steel of my knives, comforting and calming me.
Not a sound. Not a trace.
