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Talon sat across from me, leaning forward as his elbows rested on his knees.
I had so many things I wanted to ask I hardly knew where to start. “Where is my brother?” I asked, pouring a shot.
“At The Roost. Our clubhouse.”
“Where’s that?” I lifted the drink and tossed it down my throat, hissing at the burn that followed.
“In Henderson.”
“Why hasn’t he come yet?” I poured another shot, holding the drink as I stared into his eyes. “Answer me.”
“I don’t know,” he replied.
I drank the shot, quickly pouring another. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
He frowned. “What’s that going to accomplish?” He gestured to the bottle.
“Not much, but I’ll feel less stabby.”
He smirked. “You’re that frustrated?”
“Yes,” I growled, flinging back the liquor.
“Gail. Crow doesn’t want to overwhelm you.”
“Really?” I asked, not believing him. It wasn’t that Talon lied. He didn’t. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that my brother didn’t care enough to join me right away. He sent one of his guys instead.
“Baby,” he began.
“Don’t call me that right now.”
“Fine.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “We can talk about this.”
“You’re not the person I want to talk to right now. I. Want. My. Brother.”
Yes. I sounded like a spoiled brat. It wasn’t my usual way of handling things, but I was already overwhelmed.
Crow’s absence made things worse, not better.
“I see,” he replied, sitting back against the leather cushions.
The living room had been arranged so that the leather couches faced one another, one backed against a wall. Open floor plan leading into the dining room on the right. Large windows on the left. The coffee table stood between us on top of a dark gray rug. Almost all the flooring was hardwood throughout.
“Call him. Right now.”
Talon sighed but pulled his phone from his cut.
“Wait.”
He arched a brow.
“What’s Crow’s real name?”
“Austin.”
“Okay. Call him and put it on speaker.”
The line rang twice before a deep, gruff voice answered. “Is Abigail—”
