Page 88 of Ruthless Reign

He crouched low, raking clawed hands through his hair before lurching back to his feet, coming to terms with the information.

“You should leave, mo mhuirnín,” he said in a dangerous tone.

“I’m staying.”

He muttered something in Gaelic I didn’t understand.

“You don’t understand,” Aodhán was getting angry now, frustrated, and Hardin looked absolutely feral for his blood. “Whatever it is you’re planning, my father is two steps ahead of you.”

“Then help us be the ones who are a step ahead,” I snapped back. I wasn’t asking for me. I didn’t like that we were using what Séamas did to me to get under Aodhán’s skin. But I would use it if it was a way in which I could help protect them.

They could use me however they needed if they just survived.

“Give us something we can use,” Kaleb pushed. “You must have some kind of information that can help.”

“You have a rat,” Aodhán told us. “I learned who he was a few days ago, just before the meet. A man called Pope.”

A hand went to my mouth, and I watched Hardin’s gun hand falter as the information knocked him off balance.

“Bullshit,” Kaleb breathed.

“Liar,” Hardin growled, adjusting his aim, making my belly flip.

“Hardin,” I blurted before I could stop myself and his black eyes slid to me. I shook my head. Don’t shoot him. Please.

His jaw flexed, but he relaxed his aim.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Aodhán said. “Apparently Da’s had him in hand since almost the start.”

“What did he offer him?” Kaleb asked, and I could hear the incredulity in his voice. He still didn’t fully believe Aodhán, but I did. I liked Pope, but I knew that people could change faces on you, pull the rug out from under you, before you even knew you were falling.

Aodhán shrugged. “Don’t know. Likely what he always offers the rat—amnesty for himself and his family. Immunity. People will do almost anything to protect the ones they hold most dear.”

His green eyes flicked to mine as he spoke and my jaw clenched against a warm flush heating my face.

“I should go. I’ll do what I can to slow them down and buy you the time you need. Know that unless you make a move against him, he won’t attack. Stop talking to the pigs. Stop trying to communicate with the other gangs. Do as he says and there’s a good chance he won’t strike against you.”

Kaleb sighed. “You know we can’t do that.”

Aodhán nodded and turned again.

“What will he do if he thinks you betrayed him?” I asked, making him pause for the second time.

He turned his head to the side enough that I could see the curve of a wicked smirk on his lips. “Don’t worry, mo mhuirnín. I’ll be back. Promise.”

“We aren’t really letting this fucker leave?” Hardin asked as Aodhán began climbing the vines.

Kaleb held an arm out to stop Hardin’s advance. “Let him go.”

Hardin growled his frustration as Aodhán cleared the top of the fence and vanished into the night.

“Hardin,” I said gently, but he was beyond hearing me as he stormed right past my shoulder and into the house, slamming the door behind him.

I sank onto the bottom step, wincing as I stretched my leg out to stop the skin pulling on the stitches. Kaleb fell into the seat beside me, equally winded from standing for so long when he should still be in his fucking bed.

Saints.

“Pope,” he said, more to himself than to me as he shook his head. “I don’t want to believe it.”

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