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“Which explains why they’ve been quiet on the streets. They’re getting ready for something big,” Rayne muses.
“They’re getting ready to take us out,” Wynter whispers.
“Okay, so at least we know where their shit is, but I don’t know how much luck we’re going to have hitting it, especially with a rat in the mix to tip them off,” Storm says as he starts pacing. It must be a Saint James trait to think better as you walk around a room aimlessly.
“We need to hit one of the cousins,” Tommy suggests. “They’re coming after Wynter, so it’s time we go after them. They’ve had the upper hand the whole time because you’ve been mourning your parents, and before that we were just trying to get on our feet after Emerson was taken. It’s time we get ahead of the game and start taking down key players.”
Storm nods and takes another look at the screen. “We need to figure out who we can trust, or we need to hire in some help who won’t betray us.”
“I know some guys.” Tommy pulls his phone out and starts tapping away. “I can probably have them here by tomorrow, they’re based in New York, but they’re not loyal to any one family.”
“Which means they could double cross us just the same as anyone else,” Rayne groans.
“Nah, not these guys. They always get the job done, guaranteed. And Russo doesn’t have any allies in New York, at least we do.” Tommy shrugs as if that’s comforting to any of us. The fact that we have to rely on people outside the family, that we’ve never met doesn’t sit right with me, but I don’t know what other choice we have right now.
“Call them,” Storm says and then turns to me. “Let’s go to bed. It’s four in the morning and we’ve done everything we can for tonight. Tommy, if you can have your guys here as soon as possible, we can’t wait long to retaliate because even though you killed every motherfucker in that warehouse tonight, them not returning from the mission will tell them we hit them.”
Wynter says a quiet goodnight to everyone and is the first to leave, closing the door gently behind her. She held her own tonight, even when everything was falling apart and she had the most vulnerable time in her life exposed, she held her chin high and got on with it.
“We underestimated Wynter,” Storm admits.
I smirk. “Told you.”
He glares at me. “You shut the fuck up. I just mean that she handled everything, she got straight into research without having to take a minute, she called shots like she was fucking born to do this.”
“She was.” I smile. “The two of you are cut from the same cloth, except she doesn’t destroy shit when things go south.”
“I swear to God,” Storm growls.
“That’s enough, you two,” Rayne snaps. “I think we were too hasty in not teaching her this side of the business.”
“Dad would be rolling over in his fucking grave if he knew we had his little girl working on this shit,” Storm retorts.
“No, he’d be proud as hell that his daughter is a strong woman who can bring men to their fucking knees.” Rayne looks to me, a smirk playing on his lips. “I guess I won’t have to beat your ass if you break her heart again, she’ll do it for me.”
“There will be no heart breaking. The minute this shit is over, there’s a ring going on her finger.”
“Aren’t you meant to ask our permission or some shit?” Storm asks.
“Your dad gave it to me, it was in my letter.” I chuckle as I stroll out of the room. Wynter may be able to make men fall to their knees, but my little dove is about to fall to hers for me.
45
Wynter
The moment I leave the office there’s a weight on my chest I can barely breathe through. I had no other choice but to hold my own in there, to prove the men in my life wrong when they said I couldn’t handle it. Except now that I’m alone, the emotions I’ve been stamping down all day are rushing toward me and threatening to take me down.
I’m not so naive to think we’ve never been in this kind of danger before, because that’s almost certainly not true, but this feels different. The energy in the office was a mixture of fear and anger, and both reared their ugly heads more than a few times in the hours we spent in there.
Snow and Emerson are long asleep, probably for the best. If my sister knew what was going on she would be panicking, and Emerson already worries about Rayne so much, I would never want to add to that.
The moment I reach my room I strip out of the stale clothes I’ve worn all day and head for the shower. I turn the water on as hot as it will go, and the moment I step into the stream, the heat burns away the filth of the day. I may not have physically got my hands dirty, but I’m the reason men aren’t returning to their families tonight. When I look down at the water draining, I almost expect to see red, almost expect there to be blood washing away, but it’s only clear water on the shower floor.
I stand under the stream for so long I think the water may run cold soon, but it never does. Hot water beats down on me and I allow the sting of it to draw me back to the moment, to stop my mind from wandering into the far corners of itself I never want to return to. Tonight will go into the box of things I prefer not to think about, the one I hold only for the worst days of my life.
By the time I drag myself from the burning water, my skin is red and sensitive, and I don’t feel any more settled than I did going in. I towel off slowly, taking my time because the idea of getting into bed and closing my eyes makes my heart speed up with panic. All that awaits me are nightmares I’m not ready to deal with.
I wander into the bedroom and startle when I see Everett standing by the window, his back toward me. It shouldn’t surprise me that he’s here, we haven’t spent a night apart since the bomb scare, but there’s something about his demeanor that has heat pooling in my core.
