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Ash rolls his eyes, and it’s pretty clear that this is a common thing for the two of them. They have a dynamic, much like the Voronin brothers do, and if Priest, Ash, and Gage didn’t all look so different, I’d almost think they were brothers as well.
Priest, who’s been mostly quiet through all of this, finally speaks up. “I think Ash is right.”
That catches Gage’s attention, and he glances over at the blond man with a sigh. “He’ll never let you forget you said that, you know.”
Priest doesn’t quite smile, but his lips turn up at the corners a little. “I know. I’m just saying that it can’t hurt to have a friendly exchange here and there. We help them out now, and then maybe they’ll help us out later if we need it. More connections don’t hurt. I know you don’t trust anyone but us. But the Voronins have proved themselves. And we know what it’s like to need help in a tight spot. They’re not even asking for that much, all things considered.”
As the leader, Gage could easily tell the two of them to shut up and that his word is law or whatever, but he doesn’t do that. He listens to them and seems to be weighing their words carefully.
There’s respect there, a closeness that goes beyond family. I remember the silver haired woman who was with them the last time we were here. River. They have to be close to be sharing one woman, I suppose. And I remember how that was the first time I felt less alone in falling for multiple men.
Finally, Gage turns his gaze back to us, looking at each of us in turn.
“How do I know this isn’t going to come back and bite us in the ass?” he wants to know. “If we’re going to do you a favor, I need to know why.”
My men all look at each other, as if they’re silently debating how much they should say. But I step forward, clearing my throat.
“We don’t want to start any trouble,” I tell Gage, glancing from him to the other two. “Especially not for you. But we’re in trouble ourselves. We need to talk to the leader of the Enigma gang because he might be our only chance to keep my grandmother from killing me. We just want to end this. I want a chance to not have to live in fear for myself and my men all the time. Please.”
I can hear the emotion in my voice, but I don’t try to hold it back. If Jonah can truly be an ally against Olivia, then weneedhim. And I need Gage to know that this is important.
He and the other two Kings of Chaos exchange looks, and Ash gives me a little smile. “Yeah, I think we can relate to that. Not wanting to live in fear is a damned good goal. Gage?”
He and Priest both look to the man behind the desk, and finally, he nods.
“Alright. We know the Enigma gang from some business we did with them this past year. Their leader is Jonah Kent. Their territory is on the east side of the city.” He gives us a cross street, as well as the name of the tattoo parlor that apparently serves as their legitimate front and base of operations. “You’re looking for a tall man, dark hair, weirdly light colored eyes.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, a rush of gratitude filling me. There’s still no guarantee that Jonah will help us, but at least we can ask him face to face.
“Thank you,” Ransom says. “That’s a huge help.”
We turn to leave, but Gage’s voice stops us before we can go. “Hey.”
I glance back to see him staring right at me, and something in his eyes makes me think he understands what we’re up against better than I’ll probably ever know. He dips his chin, his expression serious.
“Good luck,” he tells me.
I nod, offering him a smile that I hope looks less terrified than I feel.
I hope like hell that we’ll have that luck. Because we definitely need it.
33
WILLOW
We acton the new lead immediately, getting back in the car and heading out to the east side of Detroit where Gage told us to go.
When we reach the tattoo parlor, Malice pulls the car up to the curb as his brothers scan the street for any obvious threats.
Although it’s after hours, a group of people are clustered around outside the tattoo shop. One of them stands at least a head taller than the others, and Ransom nods in his direction.
“That must be Jonah.”
We get out and walk over, the three men once again keeping me between them, not taking any chances. The conversation the group was having dies as we near them, and they eye us warily.
“Can we help you?” one of them asks. “Do you have an appointment?”
She jerks her head in the direction of the tattoo parlor.
