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She’s pregnant.
My breath moved a little deeper with the thought. We’d need to do more than find Hale and the rest of the now splintered Order. My days and nights were soon to be busy, hunting, killing…and getting ready for our baby.
The image of that consumed me. By the time I turned into the sprawling industrial compound, I’d almost forgotten why I was there. The Rossis…that’s right. Something so damn important that it couldn’t wait.
I slowed the car and turned into the driveway, to find the bright lights of the trucking company still in full swing. Trucks were being loaded. Rossi Haulage was printed on the sides of gleaming trucks. But the gates to the compound were still closed. I pulled up next to the darkened guard hut, scanning the otherwise empty compound, and swore under my breath.
“You’d better be fucking here,” I muttered.
Then a sharp knock on the window jolted me.
I jerked my gaze to the guard standing outside the door, peering at me. I stabbed the button to wind down the window.
“Mr. St. James?”
“Yes,” I forced through clenched teeth, watching him scan the rest of the car. “Looking for something?”
He didn’t answer, just stepped back and turned his head. I followed his gaze, seeing movement in the hut before the gates in front of me opened.
“You can drive in, sir.” He motioned toward the main building. “Mr. Rossi and Lazarus are waiting for you.”
“He’d better be,” I muttered, moving from being annoyed to seriously pissed off.
What the fuck was going on? I pulled the car in, parked it under the glaring exterior lights, and switched off the engine. Benjamin had better have a good reason to drag me all the fucking way out here, then check me over like a goddamn schmuck. A real good reason.
I closed the door, not bothering to lock it, and strode to the closed massive roller doors, focusing on the small door to its side. The regular-size door opened as I neared. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a savage hunger in his stare. You could almost mistake Lazarus Rossi for a Son if you didn’t know better…lucky for me, I did.
“Laz.” I glanced toward the front of the compound. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Better we show you. Dad’s waiting inside.”
I stopped outside the door, searching his stare as that nagging voice in my head warned steady. I peered inside, finding nothing more than shadows. I didn’t like this. Not the dangerous glint in his stare, or the clipped way he spoke. These were dangerous times and Hale was still out there, or was he here, maybe holding them hostage?
The memory of that boardroom where I’d had Hale’s brand new buddies held hostage returned. They were free now, being observed. Still, you couldn’t be too sure. “How about you tell me here?”
Laz shook his head and took a step backwards.
My pulse sped. My mind raced.
I was putting a lot of trust in the Rossis here.
My gun was under my jacket. Still in a situation like this, anything could happen.
If they were in danger, then we were all fucked. I stepped in, waiting as Lazarus closed the door behind me.
“Can’t be too careful,” the Mafia son muttered, striding through the gloom toward the rear.
The faint sound of a TV came. Screams, cheering. It wasn’t until I caught the words, “The Kings are heading to the finals!” that I understood.
“Sounds like the Kings won,” I commented, earning myself a cutting glare.
“Didn’t expect them to lose.”
Lazarus was insanely savage about his hockey, and none more than the Crossfell City Kings. The door to the rear office opened and Freddy, their right-hand man, stepped into view. That warning in my gut only grew louder, sending a stab of fear through me.
I rarely got scared. But this had my body tightening.
Until the hitman moved aside and Benjamin Rossi was there, pushing up from leaning back against a desk.
