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“Well, that was in my younger and more reckless days,” he says with a chuckle. “Besides, Seamus was a prick. And you’re not. I trust you.”
“Well, you helped my brothers and me out a lot when we first came to the States. We’ve always got your back.”
“And I yours, amigo,” he says before knocking back his whiskey.
“So, you know nothing about him then?” I ask again. If I didn’t know that he existed, I would think the Wolf was a figment of someone’s imagination, he is that fucking elusive.
“Only what everyone else knows. The Bratva’s top assassin. Disappeared ten years ago after he slaughtered that family and kidnapped your girl.”
My girl. Dammit Jessie!
“I even had Jax do a little digging for you but he came up with nothing.”
I shake my head in frustration. Jax is the human equivalent of a bloodhound. The fact that neither he nor Jessie can find the Wolf gives me little hope that we will ever find him unless he wants to be found. And I can’t help that worry her being with me and my brothers makes her more visible to him.
“You worried he’s still out there and he might come after her again?” Alejandro asks, as if reading my thoughts.
“Yep. And if I don’t know who he is, then how the fuck do I protect her from him? I worry about her every time she leaves the apartment. I worry that he’s so fucking invisible he might walk right past me one day and take her from under my nose.”
“You do what you can, Shane. That’s all any of us can do. I used to worry about Alana too. Fuck, I still do. And I had reason to after what happened to her. But, trying to second-guess everything and everyone, trying to keep her in a cage, well it drove both of us crazy.”
“So, how do you deal with it?”
He sucks in a deep breath. “I choose not to let it overwhelm me. Now that we have the kids too, I could worry about all of them all day long, so I have to consciously make an effort not to. She and the boys never leave the house without a bodyguard, and I trust that she does everything she can to keep herself and our children safe.”
“And Lucia?” I ask, referring to his adopted adult daughter.
“Don’t even,” he says with a shake of his head. “That girl can take care of herself and I swear she is even more stubborn than both me and Alana combined, so I let her do her own thing. I have given up trying to give myself an aneurysm arguing with the kid.”
I smile at the image that conjures in my head. Alejandro Montoya is one of the fiercest and most ruthless men I've ever met, but he is completely besotted with his wife and children, and there is a distinct change in him when he talks about them. I finish my whiskey and lean back in my seat.
“We chose this life, Shane. We don’t get to make the people who love us suffer for it too. So, we do what we can to keep them safe and then we let them do what makes them happy.”
“I suppose so.”
“Damn. I’ve never seen you like this over a woman,” he laughs.
“Like what?”
He doesn’t reply, simply shakes his head before he pours us each another drink.
“I hate it,” I admit. “I wish I could stop thinking about her.”
“She doesn’t feel the same?” he frowns at me.
“She does. At least I think she does.”
“Ah, love," he says with a sigh. “It’s an incredible thing — even when it hurts like hell.”
“So, what’s this business you have to deal with?” I ask him, desperate to change the subject.
He flashes his eyebrows at me. “Why? You in that much need for a distraction? You want in?”
“Does it involve breaking bones?”
“It can,” he answers with a grin.
“Then I’m in.”
