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Dante’s voice slices through my thoughts and I drag my gaze up from his fingers curled around that glass, swallowing around the iron in my throat when our eyes meet.
“What?” I shouldn’t snap but the tension inside me is reaching breaking point. I can’t comfort Cara while she’s pushing me away so I’m focusing on the Russians instead. Revenge sings hot in my heart.
Dante and Sienna exchange a look and Sienna smooths her well-manicured hands over her knees.
“I asked if you knew anything else about Callahan,” Sienna repeats and there’s a sharp edge in her voice, a demand for me tofocusand answer her. My fingers twitch.
“Like what?”
“Anything that could explain why he was killed,” Sienna continues and her eyes narrow. She must have said this earlier when I was distracted. I glance back at Dante’s glass and lick my lips.
It’s a dark time, it wouldn’t look bad to have one drink, right?
“No.” Shifting in my seat, the hard ridges of the leather press insistently into my back. “If anything, he was a weak target. His death changes nothing aside from angering both families.”
“Agreed,” Dante nods at me, “he wasn’t Captain anymore so it makes no tactical sense to take him out like that. It’s not even subtle.”
“So we must consider that he wasn’t the target,” Sienna muses and she clasps her long fingers together, her brow creasing faintly in thought. “It was Cara’s car after all and she arrived in it, correct?” She glances at me but I’m focused this time.
“Yes.” The word snaps out so tightly that my jaw aches. She isn’t accusing me of anything but it doesn’t help ease the guilt that’s clawed its way into my chest since I realized anyone could have seen her get out of that car.
If I’d just gone home to meet her and had her brought in one of our cars, hell if I hadn’t crashed my own car I would have brought her myself.
“Lucky she was in the bathroom,” Dante muses and he lifts his glass, taking a long drink. The copper liquid disappears past his lips and my throat runs dry.
Lucky indeed.
Dante and Sienna only know the lie that Cara had simply been drunk in the bathroom, oblivious to what occurred outside. They haven’t questioned it but they won’t believe it for long.
I know Cara wasn’t in the club. The problem is, I have no ideawhereshe was. She isn’t talking to me, not yet.
I can’t force her. Cara is fierce and if I push, she’ll lock right down and I’ll getnothing. I have to wait for her to come to me. I’m backed into a corner, unable to ask questions and comfort her the way I need to because her needs come first.
Another reason I need a fucking drink.
“Even then,” Sienna says after a moment of quiet, “Cara is still a softer target if someone really wanted to send a message. She’s part of our family now, and the Irish princess regardless of Callahan. Killing her in that way would only bond us together.”
Sienna’s words makes my blood boil; talking about Cara’s death so casually would earn anyone else a bullet. My hands curl into fists until my nails dig into my palms and pain spikes up my forearms. Ihatethis.
I had a taste of losing her and it wascrippling.
“Maybe it wasn’t about a message,” I reply stiffly. “Maybe it was just luck. Someone looking for a kill and striking where they could reach.”
“The Russians aren’t smart enough to getlucky,” Sienna scoffs and stands elegantly, moving across to the small drinks trolley. I’m confident they’re not taunting me with alcohol but logic isn’t my focus right now. Just as the urge swells to stand and grab a drink for myself, my phone buzzes to life in my pocket.
Well timed.I groan softly as I fish the device out of my pocket and Cain Arco’s name flashes up on the screen. Cain and Declan, two of the Arco brothers have been working around the clock to find out how the bomb got planted and by who. Their third brother, Archer, is guarding Cara.
“Hello?”
“Boss!” Cain’s thick timbre buzzes in my ear. “We might have something.”
“I don’t deal inmights,” I snap. Dante and Sienna study me over the edge of their glasses, curiosity burning in their eyes.
“Right,” Cain replies and he clears his throat. “We found a Russian grunt, took a few fingers before he’d talk to us but it looks like killing Grigoriy Lenkov caused a bigger stir than we might have been expecting.”
“Really?” Just thenameof the bastard that orchestrated Cara’s kidnapping sends my heart racing. He’s dead, by my own hand, but oh how I would relish a chance to kill him again. “How bad?”
“Turns out Grigoriy may have been the only competent Brigadier left. Those loyal to him are scrambling, like a pack without a leader trying to kill anyone they can get their hands on. No clue why the Pakhan isn’t reigning this in. Unless that is the order,” Cain replies with a dry scoff. “The bomb that was used struck me as more home made so if the Pakhan has declared open season, maybe it was someone seeking revenge.”
