Page 46 of Riordan's Revenge

But Jamieson was most like me. A little bit wilder. Emotionally led. Inclined to do daft things on the flip of a coin. Or in his case, a flick of his lighter wheel.

Jamieson’s shadow advanced.

Struan swore at him. “Why the fuck didn’t ye let us know it was ye?”

Tyler choked. “You didn’t either.”

Struan glowered. Jamieson gave a low laugh.

“I come with news.” He eyed the man at my side. Stalled. More sparks flared. “Riordan fuckin’ Jones. Last I saw ye, Shade had ye locked in a cell. Next thing I know, you’re all over my family’s group chat.”

Riordan shrugged. “Seem to remember knocking you on your ass as part of that encounter.”

Jamieson prowled closer. “Yet here ye are, fucking my sister.”

“Not fucking,” Struan intoned.

Riordan palmed his face.

They really needed to mind their own business.

I scowled at them both. “Get your nose out of my love life and tell us the news.”

Jamieson secured the door and ushered us into the kitchen where he raided the fridge, answering between piling up food.

“As of an hour ago, Arran and Shade captured Bronson Lesk. They’ve got him at a safe house, and tomorrow afternoon, they’re going to announce it.”

God.

Everyone spoke at once, asking questions and demanding to know how Jamieson knew.

“You were there?” Tyler asked.

“Naw, but I heard it go down. Arran called me while he was on a stakeout.”

Jamieson’s gaze slid to Riordan. Purposefully, I moved to stand in front of him, showing my ownership and the fact that yes, I wanted him here.

My brother twisted his lips but continued. “Next thing I knew, shite went down. I heard it all because there was no time to hang up. Arran and Shade were able to take the arrogant bastard entirely unseen. It was fucking poetry.”

“Red doesn’t know?” Tyler again.

“Arran will tell him personally. He wants to give evidence as part of that call.”

My fingers twitched, my mind distancing to the warehouse’s basement. To torture methods and a furious, bloodied Bronson. “They’ll work on him right away, then.”

Jamieson tilted his head at me. “Why, feel like you’re missing out in your random side quest of living at the warehouse?”

Tearing into a pack of sandwich meat, he swapped a glance with Struan.

It boiled my blood.

“Yes,” I snapped. “Though it isn’t random. I’m working there.”

Jamieson rolled his eyes. “So give it up already.”

I scoffed. “Try telling me what to do again once you’ve got your head out of your arse.”

His smile died. “To be clear, the skeleton crew took out the Four Milers’ second-in-command tonight. A violent serial murderer.”

---