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Seeing my men makes my stomach sink. They show no fear, but I can’t help wondering whether they’re considering our chances against the Killers Club. After my family’s death, I vowed to never lose the people I love again. But they might die soon. If they did, it’d be my fault, and history would repeat itself.
“You need to eat, Freddie,” Seb prompts.
“Maybe later.”
“How’s Ivy?” Callen asks between bites.
Bram’s stare burns into me knowingly.
“She’s fine,” I dismiss. I can’t change what happened, but I can try to make it right. “We need a plan for the funeral tomorrow. How are we going to get Trout?”
Callen wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins. “We already have that covered. There’s a large underground crypt at Greywood Cemetery. We break into it first, then take Trout there. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”
Bram puts his hands on his hips, unconvinced by Callen’s confidence.
“What is it, big man?” Callen taunts. “Do you think you’re the only one who can find useful intel? I can research, too.”
Bram huffs and disappears into the kitchen to grab his plate of food.
“Do you think killing him there is actually the best way?” I ask.
“For once, I have to agree with Cal,” Seb admits. “Taking him to a secondary location is a bigger risk. There’ll be lots of people at the funeral, so it’ll be easier for Trout to disappear there.Besides, it’s not like we’ve got plenty of other options. We can’t bring him here.”
“Fine,” I grumble, seeing their logic, even though I don’t like it. I prefer to have control over our environment. “We’ll have to get there ahead of time.”
Bram returns and clears his throat like he wants to volunteer.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I say. “You’re still recovering.”
His face crumples. He won’t be happy with my decision, but I’m looking out for him. We need him to return to full strength. Besides, he must know that he’d only be putting everyone else at greater risk by being there.
“If we need to get there early, why are you all still standing around?” Ivy’s cold voice cuts through the room. “We should go tonight.”
I spin to see her standing on the stairs. She’s wearing a black trench coat over jeans with a tartan scarf wrapped around her neck, presumably to hide any marks I left behind during my judgement lapse.
“Callen, Ivy, and I will go tonight,” I say. “Seb, can you get him to us tomorrow?”
Seb’s jaw sets in determination. “I can handle Trout.”
“A sleepover in a cemetery,” Callen ponders, scratching his beard, then winks. “Kinky.”
“We need to gather supplies,” I say. “We—”
“It’s already covered,” Callen interrupts. “Torean has kill bags in the back of every car he owns. We switched the plates on our drive down earlier and hid the car. We have everything we need.”
“The Killers Club might know where we are,” Seb says.
“If they do, we’re sitting ducks, anyway.” Callen shrugs. “If they want to walk into the crypt after us, I’m happy to add a few more bodies to our list.”
Ivy clicks her tongue impatiently to catch our attention. Silence falls over the room.
“Do you have something to say?” I ask.
“I’m just wondering whether you always have a mother’s meeting before a mission. I thought we were leaving.” She taps her wrist, and I check the clock on the wall. It’s past midnight. “If journalists want to gatecrash the funeral, they’ll arrive early. We need to move.”
I point at the large bag on her shoulder. “What are you carrying?”
She rolls her eyes and opens it to reveal make-up, fresh clothes, toilet roll and sexy lingerie.
