His jaw drops, his good eye widening. “Give me that.”
I hand it to him, and he tears into the sandwich like he hasn’t eaten in days. “Oh my God,” he mumbles around a mouthful. “This is fucking incredible.”
My eyes move toward the Molloy brother I have yet to meet. He’s got dark hair and glasses and is completely focused on his laptop. He hasn’t looked up since we walked in.
“That’s Wolfe,” Lochlan says. “He’s tracking down who did this.”
Wolfe’s fingers fly across his keyboard. “Three men. One had a tattoo on his neck, Cyrillic letters. Running it through some databases.” His voice is flat and matter of fact. He still doesn’t look up. “A car was stolen from Dorchester two days ago. Found it burned out in Quincy this morning.”
“Wolfe’s the smart one,” Gavin mumbles through another bite. “In case that wasn’t obvious.”
“I’m also the one who’s going to find them,” Wolfe says. No bragging. Just fact.
“Wolfe.” Lochlan waits until his brother glances up, briefly. “This is Adriana.”
Wolfe nods once, eyes flicking to me for half a second. “Iknow who she is. I’ve read her company’s financials. Impressive margins.”
“Thanks?” I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be a compliment or observation, but I guess it’s good either way.
“It’s a compliment,” Lochlan says in a low voice. “That’s how he shows approval.”
An orderly arrives with a wheelchair. Gavin holds up a hand. “Thanks, bro, but I got this.”
“Hospital policy,” the orderly says. Then he turns to us. “We’ll meet you downstairs by the front entrance.”
“I’ll get the car,” Cillian says. “I’ll take him home.”
“Okay,” Lochlan says. “We’ll just follow you then. Make sure he’s all set up at home.”
Wolfe closes his laptop and tucks it under his arm. He falls into step beside me as the four of us walk out of the room.
“He’s better with you around,” he says without looking at me.
“Gavin?”
“Lochlan.” A pause. He adjusts his glasses. “I’ve known him my whole life. I track patterns. His patterns have changed since you came into his life.” He adjusts his laptop. “That’s good data.”
He walks ahead before I can respond, but a small smile lifts my lips. And I can’t ignore the belly flutters that follow.
We meet up with Gavin and the orderly in the front of the hospital. Lochlan and Cillian help to load Gavin into the backseat of Cillian’s car. Wolfe slides in next to him.
The ride to Gavin’s apartment is short. He lives in a brownstone on the North End. We get him inside and settled on the couch and he complains the whole time. Cillian came here early and set him up with pillows and blankets. Wolfe sinks into the recliner in the corner and opens his laptop open, back in work mode.
“You need anything else?” Cillian asks.
“Yep, another sandwich,” Gavin says. “That first one tastedso damn good going down. And anyway, getting your ass kicked burns major calories.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Calories I need to replenish.”
“I’ll get groceries later. Real food,” Cillian says with a roll of his eyes.
“Deli meat is real food.”
I catch Lochlan’s eye across the room as the bickering continues. He watches his brothers with affection in his gaze. They’re what he fights for, why he fights so hard.
Wolfe looks up suddenly. “I’ll have names by tomorrow.”
“No killing anyone without me,” Gavin says.
Cillian shoots him a look. “You’re on bedrest. We can handle the killing without you.”
