I watch Ryker expectantly, feeling the weight of my anger and impatience as I wait for his answer. After everything I’ve told him, he has to understand my need for revenge, so why is he stopping me now?
“Give us a minute,” Ryker says, his voice firm, before he turns to the Reid brothers.
Jack, Carter, and Tyler are all still standing, but several of their men are slumped on the ground, wounded but alive. Around us, the Cortesi thugs are lined up against the house wall, bruised and bloody, their wrists bound tight. Matteo’s battered face is illuminated by the moonlight, his eyes swollen, and a fresh streak of blood is trickling from his brow. Every single one of them looks like they’ve taken a beating or been shot at.
“No one died,” Jack mutters to Ryker, his voice almost incredulous.
A flicker of surprise crosses Ryker’s face, and I’m sure he’s thinking what I am: it’s a miracle no one died tonight, given the gunfire and sheer rage in the air. Matteo’s eyes land on me, and despite his wounds, he throws me an unwanted smirk.
“We’re not murderers,” he insists, his tone smug as he meets my glare.
“Neither are we,” Jack retorts, staring at him as if he wished otherwise.
I scoff, unable to stop the fury bubbling up in me when I turn to Matteo.
“But you were awfully proud to be responsible for my father’s death just a few minutes ago, you fucking piece of—”
I lurch forward, ready to wipe that smirk off his face, but Ryker reaches for me and pulls me back, his grip firm but gentle, when he places himself between me and that asshole.
“He’ll pay, June. I promise you, we’ll make them all pay.”
Jack and Carter nod in agreement, their faces dark with intent.
“We’ll delete them—their entire operation, everything they’ve built,” Carter seethes. “By the time we’re done, they’ll all end up in jail.”
“How?” I snap, feeling the impatience boiling over. “What are you going to do?”
The youngest of the Reid brothers, Tyler, eyes the building thoughtfully, scanning the boarded windows and rusted equipment around us.
“First, we need to know where the headquarters of their operations could be—this might just be one of their safe houses.” His gaze narrows as he considers Matteo and his crew, who are now looking less smug and more worried.
Carter steps forward, catching on to his brother’s thoughts. “Maybe one of these assholes feels like giving us directions.”
“It’s here,” I say, my voice strong. “I’m pretty sure this shithole is their headquarter, or at least a rather important place. They’ve got a bunch of offices inside, and I saw safes—probably stuffed with documents and money.” I point back at the house, its shadow looming over us in the moonlight, silent and empty now. “I can show you everything I saw. I spent enough time in there to know that they’re hiding a lot of important stuff in there.”
I notice the shocked expression on the faces of the Cortesi and instantly know that I’m right. The Reid brothers exchange quick, skeptical glances, clearly surprised by what I told them, but Ryker doesn’t hesitate. His arm slips confidently around myshoulders, and a warmth spreads through me as he gives me a proud nod.
“That sounds like a plan,” he says, his arm pulling me close. “Good job.”
I catch Tyler’s raised eyebrow as he looks from me to Ryker, and a shy smile tugs at my lips. Carter lets out a low chuckle.
“Looks like we’ve been doing a bit of matchmaking on the side,” Tyler jokes, exchanging knowing looks with his brothers.
A laugh slips out, and I feel the tension melt away, just for a moment as we all join in a round of laughter that feels so odd and misplaced, given our surroundings.
“I need to take care of this,” Carter says, pointing to his shoulder, where a dark spot has been growing on the fabric of his jacket. “I’m pretty sure it’s just a graze wound, but it’s bleeding pretty badly.”
“We’ve got some dressing material in the trucks,” Tyler points out. “Let’s get you fixed up, and then we’ll check out the house.”
His eyes flit to Jack and Ryker and me, and Jack nods. “I’m coming with you. We should also see to Billy and Joel over there.”
He points to two of the men who are slumping on the ground, and I realize that he’s right. It doesn’t look like they’re fatally wounded, but both of them are pretty pale and clearly in need of medical attention.
“What about your hand?” Ryker asks me. “We should take care that it as well.”
I grimace in pain as I lift my left hand. It’s swollen now, and the skin is changing color, but the pain is bearable, as long as I don’t move it too much.
“I don’t know, maybe,” I say through gritted teeth. “But can we have a word first?”