Page 40 of Cain

Holding up my hand to silence them, I say, “We still don’t really know much. He wasn’t home, but they knew we were coming unless it was just really good timing. We broke in to look around, and it looked like he had left in a hurry. He’s into some shit. I just don’t know how his shit ties to us.”

“If he was gone, why would the Russians be there waiting?” Hash asks, taking a seat at the bar.

“Good question.” I shrug, trying to wrap my brain around all of this.

“You guys shoot back?”

“No. They had bigger toys than we did, and it was just us against that. We weren’t prepared for that kind of fight, so we just laid low until it played out, and the idiots thought they killed us without even checking.”

“Can’t blame you there,” Ink says, getting beers out for everyone.

“It’s almost like they knew we were coming.”

“What do you mean?” Trick asks, and everyone’s eyes move to me.

“They could have shot at us when we first got there, but they didn’t. We scoped out the outside, knocked and waited, picked the lock, and checked out the inside. They didn’t open fire until I was halfway down the front steps,” I say, staring almost too deeply at the bottle of Jameson like it’s going to give me all the answers.

“The shooters also knew it was us. They specifically said the Dirty Devils’ president. I wish we could have seen their fucking faces.” Scotch slams his beer down on the bar, and an eerie silence settles in the room. Tension is at an all-time high.

Hash breaks the silence by clearing his throat, making everyone’s eyes jump to him. “You don’t think Evan tipped Storm off that you guys were coming?”

A low growl erupts in my chest because there is no way. No fucking way was it Evan.

Hash raises his hands in defense. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, Prez. I’m just trying to look at it from all angles.”

“Evan isn’t a fucking rat,” I say between clenched teeth.

“It’s just a little weird that you said it looked like this guy left in a rush. Like maybe she tipped him off. And he tipped off the Russians because he’s involved with them somehow.”

Fuck.

I hate that what he just said sounds like a real possibility. Without another word, I grab the Jameson bottle by the neck and head to my room.

Is Hash right? Would Evan do this? I didn’t think she would be the type, especially after last night. She just seems loyal to her core. Scotch even vouched for her, but Hash’s theory makes the most sense right now. Someone tipped all of these guys off.

“Fuck,” I say out loud to no one but my bottle of Jameson before taking a big swig as I sit back on my bed and lean against the wall.

Feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, I pull it out to see it’s a text from Evan.

Evan: Hey, you!

Me: Hey

Evan: I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out tonight?

Me: Can’t. Got shit going on.

I take another swig as five minutes pass with no response. I know I’m being short, and she probably thinks I’m back to being a dick. Maybe it’s best this way. A one-percenter president has no business getting attached to a woman. Let alone a woman like Evan. There’s too much risk on both sides and too much to gain from the other turning on each other.

They say you can’t find answers at the bottom of a bottle, but I’m damn well going to try.

Too bad those gorgeous blue and green eyes haunt my dreams.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

EVAN

Cain: Can’t. Got shit going on.

---