“I need you here with Wolfe. Running comms. If this goes sideways, someone needs to know where we are and be ready to call in backup.”
Gavin makes a face. “I hate when you treat me like a baby.”
“Next time we go after the Russians, I promise, you’ll be on the front line. But today, I need you to stay back,” I say.
He lets out a huff. “Fine. But you keep the phone lines open. If anything goes sideways, I’m coming anyway.”
“Deal.”
“So where are we going?”
I flip around to see Ronan leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed. He glowers back at me, one eyebrow lifted.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Gavin texted me.” He pushes off the frame and walks into the apartment. “I heard something was going down with the Kozlovs.”
I lance Gavin with a glare, but he shrugs. “I texted him as soon as you got here. I figured you’d need the backup, and I knew you’d never call him yourself.”
My jaw clenches so tight, my teeth might crack. I look back at Ronan. “Since when do you give a shit about me or Adriana?”
“I don’t. But I’m not gonna sit around with my dick in my hand while Russians make moves on our territory, thinking they can take what’s ours.” He stops a few feet away. “I’m an asshole, not an idiot. And I’m gonna help stop them.”
“Why aren’t you running to Dad with this?” I ask.
“I tried. He’s not answering. His phone’s going straight to voicemail. Nobody’s seen him since this morning.”
That stops me cold. Eamon’s phone never goes to voicemail. The paranoid bastard is always reachable.
“When’s the last time anyone heard from him?” Cillian asks.
Wolfe’s already typing. “I’m checking.” A pause. “His phone went dark a couple of hours ago. Last ping was near the waterfront in Southie. Same general area as Vincenzo.”
The same area. Around the same time Adriana went missing.
“Son of a bitch,” I bite out.
“What?” Ronan’s eyes narrow.
“Eamon’s in on whatever the fuck is happening right now. He has to be. He disappears the same time Adriana does? Same area? That can’t be a coincidence.”
Ronan’s jaw tightens. For a second, I think he’s going to argue it and defend our father like the good little bitch he always is. But instead, he just says, “Then we need to get going.”
“Just so you know, this isn’t about territory to me. It’s about Adriana,” I say to Ronan.
He nods. “She’s your wife. That makes her family, even if it’s a fucking sham. And family doesn’t let family get snatched by fucking Russians. Even family I don’t like.”
I stare at him. Only days ago, he called her a liability and said I should let her family burn. It pisses me the fuck off. “Forget it. I don’t need your help.”
“Yeah, you do. You’re gonna walk in there with just Cillian? Against Christ knows how many Kozlov soldiers?” He shakes his head. “I’ve got six guys who can be ready in twenty minutes.”
“Why would you help her?”
“I’m not helping her. I’m helping you.” He pauses. “I don’t want to watch my brother lose someone he loves. Despite what you might think. And I don’t want to hear that you got yourself killed, either.”
The long stretch of silence deafens me.
I don’t trust him. After everything he’s said and done, I’d be a fucking moron to trust him.
