Page 51 of Wild Angel

Just friends though? The sinister voice in my mind just isn’t letting up. What if they’re more?

I turn my attention away from the two Irish men. Instead, I pour a row of vodka shots for Vito to hand out. At first, it looks like Patrick won’t participate, but when his son takes one, he reluctantly does too.

When Nyx reaches for one of the shots still on the table, I grunt at her.

She pauses and then snatches one anyway. She doesn’t wait—she tosses the clear liquid straight down her throat and then lets out a tiny cough.

I pour another, since I didn’t include hers the first time around.

Everyone else drinks theirs when it’s obvious I’m not going to salute, but I don’t drink mine. I keep the shot in my fingers—something to toy with while I consider my options.

I knew Patrick might not know where his brother Donnacha, AKA Donny, was. I’ve been doing some digging the past couple of days, and I’ve learned quite a bit about the Brennan family and their boxing club.

Surprisingthings.

Some I wish I’d known a long time ago.

I’m used to Sergio keeping things from me and Vito…but not my own father. Unless he didn’t know about the Brennans, and that leads me to wonder about a whole lot of shit.

“Have you tried reaching him?” I ask.

Patrick studies me again for a second before responding. “Aye. Of course.” He shakes his head. “He’s off the grid.”

I finally toss back the vodka, but my eyes never leave Patrick’s. I set down the glass and shift forward, my hands dangling between my legs as I lean forward.

“I suggest you find him.” I grab hold of Nyx’s thigh and squeeze her so hard that she makes an angry sound. I’d hoped for a gasp, but as it is, both Brennans are suddenly sitting straighter, their jaws clenched. “Or this will be the last time youeverlay eyes on a Gray.”

Patrick scoffs quietly. “You said nothing about the girls.” His eyes cut to Nyx. “Just her.”

I sit back a little and slide a hand into my jacket pocket. When I bring out the blood-smeared crucifix I found on the floor of room twelve of the Happy Earth motel, Patrick’s eyes lock onto it immediately.

Nyx’s muscle tenses under my fingers as a tremble rushes through her.

I forgot I had this thing, but after one of my errands this past week, the cleaning staff had to clean an immense amount of blood off my leather jacket. They left everything that had been in my pockets in a zip-seal bag on my dresser. The crucifix was in there. I was going to give it to Nyx…until I realized it would be more useful as proof of life.

Despite her obvious shock, Nyx remains silent. She could call my bluff in a heartbeat, blurt out that her sisters were taken by someone else, not the Domingo cartel.

But she’s beautifulandsmart, my wild little angel.

We both know Donny might be the key that unlocks this whole fucked-up mess. And if keeping quiet lets the Brennans think that all three of the Gray sisters are currently under the Domingo Cartel’s thumb…then I guess, for once, she’s going to do as she’s told.

Patrick rises slowly to his feet. He’s not a bad man—at least, he hasn’t committed the kind of crimes that could tarnish his morals.

But he’s too soft. Maybe, with age, he let sentimentality take over reason. Because if I’d had a brother who kept using our business as motherfucking collateral for his gambling debt, I’d have fixed the problem a long time ago.

“You lay a finger on those girls, and…” Patrick trails off. He’d been pointing at the floor, but now his hand curls into a fist. “I’ll find Donny. But I need more time.”

“You have twenty-four hours,” I tell him.

He turns away, scoffs at Liam who’s sitting and watching the exchange with thunder in his eyes. “I canna find him in—”

I let go of Nyx’s leg and shove my hand between her legs. It’s the second time she surprises me with what I find. I was expecting underwear, but I find her hot slit instead.

This time she does gasp, and the sound is fucking glorious.

Everyone moves at once.

Patrick surges forward. Liam jumps to his feet.

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