Page 47 of Queen's Ransom

“But now one of their people have her. The head of a rival organization.” And there she went, making it sound even more ominous. It wasn’t so much a hummingbird in her stomach now as a raven doing barrel rolls.

“We can’t rival the Bratva,” Chris said, “but we can cause them trouble, unless we convince them Zima is more trouble.”

Go with the giant black bird, then. She didn’t see how she had another option. Hold on tight, use everything Helena had taught her, summon up all the borrowed and earned confidence, and go save the woman she would like to have more with too. “All right, then, what the fuck are we waiting for?”

Chris pulled into the Madigans’ driveway and shifted in his seat, angling toward her, and Celia had no idea his eyebrow could climb that high. “We?”

“She’s in this because of me.” Celia pointed at herself, then at him, then at the house where the rest of her family had been sheltered the past week. “Because of our family. And because Dex is a fucking idiot who led them right to something—someone—they could leverage. That’s what you all call it, yes?”

His brow lowered as one corner of his mouth rose. “You hear more than you let on.”

“Dex would never do what Helena did for me today, and I’ll be damned if I let that asshole be the reason something happens to her.” She unfastened her seatbelt and flung it off, hand on the door, hand on the next step of her life, and she was ready to pull the handle. Ready to open the door to the chaos and love that could come with it. “I’m not sitting this one out.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Celia was over thirty, and tonight was the first time she’d stepped inside a club. That’s what happened when you had your first kid in high school. She’d never had nights out at the club with friends, never had a wild spring break with college roommates, never danced to thumping music and flashing lights with a would-be partner. Looking down from the mezzanine balcony of Club Sterling, she wasn’t too sure she cared about the club part of what she’d missed. The loud music made her head hurt, the strobe lights didn’t help, and the dance floor below was way too packed for her to ever feel comfortable there.

“How did this place become neutral ground?” she asked Hawes, who rested against the balcony rail beside her.

They’d read her in back at the house, explaining the basics of the meet—the location, the parties, the objectives.

“How much do you want to know?” he said.

She waved him off. “Forget I asked.” She was here for Helena, and she would be again in the future for Helena and any of her family—Perris and Madigans—when they needed her, but as seldom as possible in this direct a role. Mia was spot on the other night when describing her place in all this. Five minutes inside Club Sterling, five hours of the fucking raven doing barrel rolls in her stomach, and Celia agreed one hundred percent with her daughter. “When this is all over, I just want to be the partner who is the mom-friend of the family and who makes sure all of you are bandaged and fed. The rest of what you do…” She closed her eyes and covered her ears.

Hawes gently tugged down her hands. “Her partner?”

“Yeah, if I can get through that hard head of hers.”

Chuckling, Hawes dropped a peck on the top of her head. “Helena needs you. We all do. I think back on my parents, on my grandparents, and they never had anyone on the outside to ground them. They got lost in this world, and it cost them their lives and freedom.” Celia was so surprised by the regret, the vulnerability, the warmth in his voice, that she reached out to clasp his hand. He squeezed back, more firmly, more genuinely than she expected. “We’re trying to do things differently. Better. You help make us better.”

If she could do that for the Madigans, it made her feel a little less guilty for all the trouble they’d gone through this week to keep her and her family safe. “Thank you.”

The moment was interrupted by a click in her ear, startling her at first until she remembered the comm device there.

“What is it?” Hawes said, and it was equally startling to hear him next to her and directly in her ear.

“Patching Oak through,” Holt said. Another couple clicks, then Holt reported, “Oak, we’re all on.”

The lawyer? Celia mouthed to Hawes, who nodded. Made sense as Helena had mentioned a meeting with him on Monday.

“Two updates,” Oak said. “It was a Bratva soldier that murdered Griffin. The soldier hung himself in his cell this morning.”

“Fuck,” Hawes cursed. “The other piece?”

“The connection between Griffin and Lenny. Griffin’s ex-wife is tight with Lenny’s sister. Lenny told his sister he needed some wheels, and the ex mentioned the car sitting in a storage unit she’s justifiably bitter about paying for.”

“So Lenny helped himself to the car.”

“Looks like it.” The ambient noise in the background grew louder, Oak entering a restaurant, judging by the clink of silverware and a hostess asking for his party name. He begged her pardon for a minute, then asked them, “You need anything else from me? My husband might murder you himself if I continue to keep him waiting for our anniversary dinner.”

“We’re set, thanks,” Hawes said. “Have a good dinner, and happy anniversary.”

Oak clicked off with a “Thanks,” and once Holt confirmed “Clear,” Hawes added, “Find out where they’re dining and pay for the meal. Send over some champagne too.”

“Already done,” Holt said.

Celia ducked her chin and smiled, happy her brother had found a good man and a good family to attach to their own. All the good it had led to.

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