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“I don’t know how.”
Patriot closed the distance between us and opened his arms wide, waiting to see if I could take that next step on my own.
My lungs dragged in a heavy breath and before I could think too hard about it, I rushed forward, straight into his embrace.
“There. Not so hard. Easy as breathing, sunshine. Just one step at a time.”
Maybe he was right.
“What have you found, Xenon?”
“Not much,” he complained. “Public records are few other than some arrests and a DUI. Debt. Normal shit but I couldn’t find any connection to family or the Scorpions. Most of the data I found is years old like someone scrubbed their information from the internet. This is intentional. Guys like Jones and Rattler have a long and sordid history. If I can’t find it, it’s been erased.”
“Fuck!” I shouted, kicking at one of the chai
rs in the room as it spun and crashed into the wall.
Grim leveled me with a look. “Talk to me, Patriot.”
“I don’t like this. There’s too many ways all this shit could go wrong.”
“Yeah, we established that shit already.”
“I want to hunt that fucker down. Jones is close. I can feel it.”
“No confrontation yet. We’ve been over the reasons why.”
“Yeah, I hear you, but I don’t fucking like it.”
Grim laughed, gripping my shoulder with one heavy fist. “You never learned patience in the Corps? Thought the one thing they taught was hurry up and wait.”
His humor wasn’t helping. “I’m hanging on by a thread.”
Grim gave me a shake. “Hunted recently?”
He knew about my trips into Vegas and didn’t care as long as I wasn’t stupid and didn’t get caught.
“No.”
“You talk to Bishop lately?”
“Nah. Didn’t feel the need,” I admitted.
“Feeling the need now, you stubborn fucker?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Xenon interrupted us. “I’ve found some photos of Rattler and Jones. Still digging for Resnikov. I’ll send them to all the phones. Make sure we all have an idea of who we’re looking out for. Never know when one of those assholes will show up.”
I opened my mouth to ask him if he was still watching and recording the feeds all the time and Xenon held up a hand.
“Yeah, brother. I’ve got eyes and ears where we need them.”
“Alright.” I swiped my hands down my face and decided I needed a stiff drink.
“Have a whiskey or whatever else you fuckin’ need, Patriot,” Grim advised, “but then you give Bishop a call. Find your center.”
“I will,” I promised, leaving him behind to head for the bar.
