Page 14 of My Prince

Yarder and Compass exchanged a look, and I could see the determination in their eyes. “We take the fight to them,” Yarder said. “We hit them where it hurts.”

“We’ve tried that before,” I pointed out. “It didn’t work.”

“This time, we do it differently,” Compass said, his voice low and dangerous. “We gather all the intel to find out their weaknesses and strike when they least expect it.”

I considered their words, my mind racing. It was a risky plan, but sitting around waiting for the next attack was even riskier. “Alright,” I said finally. “Let’s do it. But we need to be careful. One wrong move, and we’re fucked.”

“We know,” Yarder said grimly. “But it’s a risk we have to take.”

Compass received a phone call as we continued to discuss the details of our plan, and the rest of the guys filed into church.

Everyone was on board to hit Boone and Gibbs head-on with whatever we could throw at them.

Compass walked back into church. “Russ will be here tomorrow at two. I only talked to his secretary, but she said he’ll be here.”

Yarder nodded. “Good. Russ is going to be the one that can give us good information on Boone and Gibbs.”

We finished our impromptu meeting, and the guys dispersed. All of us were pretty shocked that Boone and Gibbs had struck again so soon.

“You sure you’re okay?” Cue Ball asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

I nodded. “Yeah, man. We got down pretty quickly. Whoever shot at us wasn’t that good.”

“Thank god for that,” Cue Ball sighed, relief evident in his voice.

I made my way back to the common room, my eyes scanning for Adalee. The guilt gnawed at me. I should never have let her follow me out to Pittsburg; now she’d been caught in the crossfire.

“You seen Adalee?” I asked Sloane as I approached her.

Sloane shook her head. “She took off about fifteen minutes ago. Garett and Mark gave her a ride back to her place.”

“Was she okay?” I pressed, needing to be sure.

Sloane frowned. “Uh, well, about as good as you can be after being shot at.”

This was all my fault. I should have just given her the fucking interview instead of making her chase me to get it. I had planned on agreeing to the interview after a game of cat and mouse, but we hadn’t gotten that far before the shots rang out.

“They’re staying at the Tripod, right?” I asked, referring to the trio of houses we kept for guests and associates.

Sloane nodded. “Yeah, I think she’s in the blue one.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Does telling me which house she’s staying in mean that I should go check on her?”

Sloane quirked her lips to the side. “I mean, I’m not telling you not to, but I’m also not telling you it’s a good idea.” She winked at me.

I took that as a green light. Grabbing my keys, I headed out to my bike. The ride to the Tripod was short, but it felt like an eternity. My mind raced with thoughts of Adalee—how she must be feeling, what I would say to her, how to make it right.

When I pulled up to the blue house, I took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

Chapter Eight

Adalee

I sank deeper into the clawfoot tub, letting the hot, soothing water envelop me. The bubbles frothed around me, their soft, fragrant touch a balm to my frazzled nerves. I knew I shouldn’t be in the tub because of the cut on my side, but I had found two bandages and waterproof tape in the first aid kit, and I wasn’t about to let a little injury keep me from a much-needed bath after the crazy day I’d had.

Mark and Garett had both been concerned about me, hovering like anxious mother hens. It had taken a lot of convincing to get them to leave and go back to their tiny homes. As far as they knew, the shooting was just a random act of violence, an unfortunate coincidence. But I knew better. I knew it had to do with the Iron Fiends.

The events of the past month had all been connected, each incident a piece of a larger puzzle that was still coming together. And now, somehow, I was right in the middle of it.

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