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“TowhatBrent?” Her anger surprises me.
Brent loses some of that softness he seems to reserve for his family, looking at her with the same frustrated energy she was bringing to the table. “Why do you think The Kukris are targeting Talon and Dao territories, Ruby? It makes no sense when The Tantos are disbanded.” He holds his hands out in a helpless gesture. “Either they have already set up shop right under your nose, or they’re so certain that you won’t be an issue, that they’re saving you for last.” His voice booms in the empty room and I watch the exchange in fascination. I’m hardly a gossip but I’ve been curious about what happened to The Tantos when Declan was sentenced and Ruby disappeared from our world completely.
“I can’t be part of this,” Ruby yells and raises her finger pointing at Brent. “And you know that.” She looks around the circle with mild contempt. “I’m out of here. Good luck bitches.” She leaves with a dismissive wave.
Brent moves as if to go after her, but Lance holds him back. “Let her go, you can’t force her into this.”
“What isthis, exactly?” I ask still unsure what this secret meeting is in aid of.
“If The Kukri know of our alliance and are now targeting us, we’re officially at war.” Lance mirrors my stance, placing his hands in his pockets and looking at me with an intense seriousness.
I feel Stuart move close to my back, a supportive action that I appreciate. “What are your plans?” he asks for me.
“We’re not making any without you,” Lance answers, giving me that same intense look. “We’re in this together, Annika.”
I nod. “Then, let’s figure it out.”
We’re there for an hour and although no solid plans are made, I feel oddly grateful for The Daos, specifically the three men at their head who have proven to be loyal and helpful allies. We are preparing to leave when Hayden steps in my eyeline.
“You should come to the club tomorrow night.”
“Why?” I narrow by brows. “Is everything okay?”
He chuckles. “Darling, I can run that place with my eyes closed.”
“Call me darling one more time and see where it gets you,” I warn, although I can’t seem to bring any real heat to my words.
He just smiles cockily. “You wound me, Annika.”
I find myself smiling at him and his answering grin is full of affection and friendship that brings me a warmth. “Why do you need me at the club tomorrow if you’re so good?”
“I didn’t say I needed you, I said you should come by. We’re all going to be there.” He gestures at his husbands. “And Elle’s singing. It’ll be good to, I don’t know, hang out.” He shrugs.
Raising a sceptical brow, I level a glare at him. “Like teens at a kegger?”
He gives a full and throaty laugh. “It’s been a while, but sure, if you like. Or.” He raises his brows and points upward as though he’s just had a bright idea. “Like adults at a bar. Friends, even.”
“I don’t have friends,” I say, trying to tame my smile.
“We could all use friends. Try it, you never know how it might turn out.” With a wink and a smile, he leaves me with that thought.
“Can we have burgers for dinner?” Keeley asks.
“Yes,” I answer with a sigh because I’m too tired to argue that the girls should probably eat something green and not fried as they’ve—mostly Keeley—have talked me into unhealthy take-out food most nights since we’ve been at the hotel. There’s no kitchen in our suite and Guinevere’s talent is limited to what she can put together for us. “But we’re ordering from room service,” I compromise. “No more fast food.”
“Okay,” she says brightly. “I like burgers.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, fighting back the nausea that comes with the thought of smelling frying oil and sweat.
“They remind me of the first time we had them,” she answers as though that should have been obvious. “We met Stuart, and Harvey made me laugh so hard I dripped lemonade out my nose.” She giggles at the memory.
We’re sat on the plush sofa in our suite, just the three of us as I told Guinevere to spend some time with Lee. Keeley watches one of the animated movies she’s become obsessed with on the large flat screen while I’m doing some work on my brand-new tablet. Mabel is tapping away on her phone, lost in whatever’s on the screen. I become immediately suspicious.
“What are you doing?” I ask her.
She shrugs without looking up. “Playing on my phone.”
“Yes, thank you for that enlightening answer.” My sarcasm seems to go unnoticed as she continues to frown at her phone while her fingers move across the screen. “Playing how? A game?”
