There’s a murmur of approval from the men, but I stay silent.
“We go in hard. No mercy shown no matter what.” His gaze flicks toward me, the emerald hue sharpening. “That includes the women. They can’t be trusted, since they’re obviously working for Fedorov too.”
Tension locks up my jaw, hands under the table half curling into fists.
“We’ve got no more room to allow for survivors,” he continues. “We’ve been burned one too many times and can’t afford any more fuck ups.”
“Why don’t you come out and say what the fuck you really mean?” I snap suddenly.
Ronan’s eyes narrow, and he tilts his head slightly. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I push up from the chair, my blood running hot. “You’re not talking about some random women at a warehouse. This is about Jhene and how you blame me for bringing her into the fold.”
“It’s not a wrong fucking statement, is it?” he fires back. “The girl was nothing but trouble from the start. You were too blinded by your cock to see it.”
The rage surges up so fast I can barely contain it. “Watch your mouth.”
“Or what?” Ronan rises up from his seat at the table, never one to back down from a fight. Even with a professional boxer. “You gonna swing, Kill?”
“Both of you, cool it,” Lochlan interjects. “You think this is helping the situation we’re in?”
Ronan ignores his older brother, gesturing to my chair. “Sit the fuck back down. You must’ve forgotten who’s in charge. You work for me. You’ll do as I say.”
“I’m my own fucking man,” I growl, stepping around the table and knocking over my chair in the process. “I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”
“Then maybe your loyalties are in question too. Just like your girlfriend.”
I’m vibrating with rage. So much so that if Ronan wasn’t Clan Chief—if he wasn’t my best friend from the time we were rowdy boys getting into trouble—I would lose control right now.
We would come to blows. I would deck him in his fucking smart mouth and make him regret every word he’s said.
Instead, I force myself to turn toward the door and stride out of the pub. The whole place has gone silent, everybody watching as I storm off.
I make it halfway down the block, still fuming when somebody calls out to me. It occurs to me the gruff voice belongs to Lochlan.
I spin around, teeth gritted. “You can fuck off if you think I’m going back in there!”
“Not why I followed you,” he answers. “You and Ro in the same room right now doesn’t sound like a smart idea. I came out here ’cuz I heard from Sean how you’ve had the buttonmen looking for her. For the stray.”
“Yeah, and what of it?”
“And you’ve had no luck, is that right?”
“Still missing your fucking point!” I growl.
Lochlan regards me as if irritated himself over the exchange. He juts his chin out and says, “So the fucking point is, in case you’re too damn hardheaded to put two and two together, I’ve got an answer for that.”
“What do you?—”
“There’s somebody who might be able to tell us where she went,” he interrupts. “Or at least give an idea.”
He starts down the street in the same direction I was headed in, bypassing me in a few strides. I stare after him, still so fucking confused about what’s happening.
“You coming or not?” he calls from over his shoulder.
I hesitate a moment longer, then begrudgingly follow after him.
We wind up at the diner around the block. The same place where I once brought Jhene for breakfast because her stomach was gurgling and then became a staple in our weekly routine together.
