“It’s not business. This one is personal,” I say. “It won’t affect you.”
“Well, I have the feeling that it will.”
“Can you do what I ask or not?”
“Have I ever let you down?” The answer is no. I vet my inner circle very closely. I’ve never made the wrong choice. “Consider it done.”
“Get his misdeeds on camera. Meet me in an hour.” I end the call before he can say another word. I send Rip a text reminding him of the meeting.
Once Finch does her business, we return to the apartment. She’s locked the door, but I use my key to get inside. I hear the shower running when I get back. I pull out the hidden dog food and dish, fill them, and go in search of my reluctant woman.
The bathroom door is locked, so I use a butter knife to jimmy it open. She shrieks when I join her in the shower and wrap my arms around her waist. I kiss the side of her neck. She relaxes into me and sighs.
“Why can’t it always be like this?” I whisper in her ear. “You and me. Together and happy.”
“I’m not looking for—”
“You were with that loser doctor. Why not me?”
My mind is elsewhere, not at this fucking jail, but this is what needs to be done, and the fucking Titans requested an audience. They have leverage. They know it, and I know it. I know what’s coming, and I don’t like it.
Preacher sits in a van that I can only describe as a vehicle befitting a serial killer. It’s white, about fifteen years old, and riddled with dents. He has three laptops, and he seems unfazed, which reassures me.
Ripley shows up on that big, loud ass bike, and parks next to me. The only person more eager than I to leave this godforsaken place is him.
“Let’s get this shit over with.” His deep voice penetrates through the dark, but the man who arranged all of this isn’t here.
We don’t have long to wait until a black SUV slowly rolls in. One would think that the driver behind the wheel is not eager to get this over with. Perhaps he isn't, but we are.
He comes to a stop, and he steps out. All six feet and three inches of him. I know because all the Titan men are the same height. They’re a strange fucking family, but they stick together. If you fuck with one, you fuck with them all. And you don’t want to do that.
He’s in Dockers, a white button-down shirt, and dress shoes. He looks like the trained accountant that he is. Despite his height, one would think he’s non-threatening. They wouldn’t be more wrong.
He gives a curt nod to us, but he doesn’t speak.
“Thirty minutes,” Preacher yells from his van. “Go.”
The guard directs us through the back door. We don’t get far until two others drag Jack Brennan to us in the middle of the hallway. He blanches when he sees us. He knows what’s about to happen, or at least he thinks he does.
“No.” He shakes his head. “No, no, no.” He tries to back away, but a guard holds each of his arms. They toss him in the middle, and he’s surrounded by the three of us.
“Mr. Brennan.” Stone has a slow drawl. There is no emotion on his face. He looks like he’s here to sign paperwork. “It’s been brought to my attention that you laid hands on my niece.” Brennan swallows, but he doesn’t say a word.
Both his eyes are black, and his lips are swollen. His face is also bruised.
Stone puts on black gloves before he stands in front of Brennan. For a man who caused so much trouble, he’s small, and he looks even smaller in front of Stone.
“We have rules, Mr. Brennan, and one of the most important is that you don’t put your hands on women.” He grins, and it looks more like a grimace. Stone Titan is not unassuming. He’stall and muscled. I’ve even heard women describe him as handsome. If you didn’t know, you’d think he was a businessman who works a regular job. He certainly dresses the part. I’ve only ever seen him in button-down shirts and expensive slacks, but his name is perfect for him. He’s stone cold. He’s almost clinical in these situations, and if Brennan were anyone else, I’d feel sorry for him. “Especially not my niece.” He taps Brennan’s cheek and chuckles. “Mr. King, I’ll give you first dibs. After all, we’re here because of you.”
“No.” Brennan shakes his head as he tries to back away, but one of the guards pushes him back in the middle. “He already almost killed me. Reed and Chandler will pay you whatever you want.”
“Little boy, I can buy you with the change in my pocket. Shut the fuck up.” Stone’s icy façade drops, but only for a second. I guess he’s just as eager as us to get this over with. “Mr. King.” He tilts his head toward Brennan and whistles. Then, he pulls out another pair of black gloves and throws them at King. “No DNA, please.” He takes a deep breath. “Hurry. I’m eager to go home and get to bed.”
King puts the gloves on, steps to Brennan, and gives him two solid punches in his stomach. “Leave some for me,” Stone says. “This is my show.” But King doesn’t listen. This man almost killed the woman he loves, and the only reason he didn’t kill Brennan himself is that he knew it would cause a war that would put Eden in more danger. King punches him two more times before I push him away.
Brennan has doubled over and vomited on the floor.
“Hold him,” Stone commands to no one in particular. Two guards follow his order, and Stone proceeds to punch Brennan in the face until he passes out.
