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“I will not ask my father for help. He’s made his stance on East and Octavia quite clear,” he grinds out. I can hear his teeth grinding together like gravel in a cement mixer.
“What does that even mean?” Mav asks as he sits on the sofa. He’s about as tense as Lincoln is, and without East here to be the cool, calm, and collected one, that leaves me trying to be level-headed about it all.
Which is far easier said than done.
“It means,” Lincoln starts, “that Harrison just told me East isn’t his kid, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck whether he lives or dies. And he’s been telling me for months not to bother with Octavia.”
“Holy shit, what?” I blink in shock at that little bombshell. “East isn’t his? Well fuck. That explains a lot.”
“No shit,” he grunts. “I guess I need to apologize to him if he survives.”
“So who is his dad?” Mav asks, brow furrowed.
“No fucking clue. I’ve called Fiona, but shocker: she’s not answering.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he leans forward. “I was hoping Luc would have more information, but while he knew that East wasn’t Harrison’s, he doesn’t know who his dad is either.”
We sit in silence for a minute while I try to process this new information.
I wonder if his dad is a Knight?
More importantly: if he is, would he be willing to help us?
“But that doesn’t help us find Octavia. I feel like we’re just sitting here with our fucking dicks in our hands. We need to do something.” Lincoln’s frustration bleeds all over us all, while I rack my mind for options. Seeing him like this is jarring as fuck.
“We could talk to Ryker?” I offer. “The Kings have people on every corner of the city. Someone might have seen something.”
He nods, even though I can see the conflict in his eyes over asking the Kings for help. “That means we’d owe them one…”
“We can give him Diego,” Maverick offers, and I nod in agreement. “The Conclave are done with him. I heard my dad bragging about it.”
For a guy who says he isn’t the one to come up with a plan, he’s full of good ideas today.
“I like it. Where is he?” I ask.
“He’s in one of the cells at The Cage.” Lincoln rubs a hand over his face before adding, “We don’t have any other options, so let’s do it. I can’t sit around doing nothing anymore. We can stock up while we’re there too. Whoever has her might not want to hurt her, but I’m sure as hell going to fuck him up anyway.”
He stands, his face like thunder as he walks out of the house, dodging the drying pools of blood still dotting the floors. I grab my phone and send a message to a friend who is used to cleaning up after the Knights and call in a favor. The last thing I want is for the floor to stain and V be reminded of this day every time she sets foot in her living room.
“Let’s go,” I say, and Mav stands with me. “If we let him go alone, we’ll probably end up with another war on our hands.”
Mav just grins at me and shrugs. “I could use a fight.”
“I think we’ve fought enough for one day.” I shake my head as my phone buzzes with confirmation of the cleanup.
I just hope we get some answers, because the whole ghost routine this fucker has going on is getting on my last nerve. Just once, I’d like to get ahead.
Maybe then we’d feel closer to finding her.
* * *
Getting Diego from The Cage was the easy part. Getting him to shut the fuck up on the drive back to Echoes Cove was a whole other story. As we pull up at the Donovan residence, the tension in the car is thick enough to cut with a knife.
“You guys can’t tell them where I was,” Diego says, looking a little panicked. “They’ll kill me if they know I made a deal…”
“They’re your brothers. They won’t kill you,” Mav snorts.
“You don’t know my brothers.” He gulps, eyes wide. “But I was talking about the Kings as a whole.”
“Fine by us. We’ll say we tracked you down and in return, the Kings are going to help us,” Lincoln commands, and Diego nods. I don’t know what they did to him, or what deal was struck, but he looks fucking terrified.
