Page 88 of Whiskey Kisses

“We’re both coming,” Dad says, startling me when his voice joins hers.

“Not the tag team,” I groan. “You realize it’s creepy when you two do this, right?”

Dad talks over me. “I don’t want your mom to travel down there by herself, knowing what kind of fuckery is afoot. But Evie needs her—she needs family. Her parents are both gone now, and we’re all she’s got. It’s time for her to see how we take care of our own. And besides, you might need a little support, yourself. Lucky was thinking of flying down and surprising you, but …”

“But what?”

“Eh, he’s got a lot going on, too,” he says cryptically. Mom says something to him in the background.

“Is everything okay?” I ask. Lucky and I were just texting last night—he never mentioned anything.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dad says quickly. “He’s great. I gotta go, but listen—we’re gonna try and grab a morning flight tomorrow, all right? I’ll let you know when we’re boarding.”

A mixture of trepidation and gratitude settles in. I hate dragging them into the bullshit, but there’s nothing better than having family around. They’re equally capable and compassionate, in different ways, so I know they can take care of themselves … and us.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “Take care.”

Alex looks at me from the driver’s seat with an expectant grin. “They’re coming down, huh?”

I snort. “They just can’t help themselves.”

We pullinto Doyle Whiskey and park up front in Randall’s old spot. The lot is nearly full today, as it should be on a weekday morning. I’ve been keeping in touch with Scott, as well as the board of directors we’re putting together, and I feel good about how things are coming along. Grabbing the briefcase at my feet, I tuck my phone into my pocket and slide out of the Suburban. It’s a beautiful, crisp morning, the sky a cloudless blue as I make my way toward the front door with Alex and Finn.

The growl of an engine speeding into the lot shatters the quiet. Whirling around on instinct, I drop the briefcase and pull my Glock from beneath my jacket, Alex and Finn doing the same as a navy blue F150 pulls up behind the Suburban, blocking it in. Four men spill out,

the morning sun glinting off the metallic surface of their drawn guns.

“Kelly!” the one leading the charge calls.

My heart skips a beat as I hold my gun at my side, its familiar weight a comfort. “Cole.”

“Hey, there.” He strolls toward me, tapping his gun against his thigh. “What happened last night?”

“Stay the fuck back,” Alex snaps, stiffening.

I elbow his arm, the futility of the situation sinking in as more men emerge from a sedan parked nearby as well as a third vehicle across the lot. Ready and waiting, and we didn’t even see it coming.

Cole smiles pleasantly as he raises his gun and points it at Alex, then me. I return the favor—if I go down, he’s coming with me—and it’s like tipping over a row of dominoes. Alex and Finn take aim, as does every man on their side.

My stomach coils and my heartbeat triples, every thump reverberating against my eardrums as I stare at that muzzle. Sucking in a long, deep breath, I hold it for as long as possible, trying to slow the swell of panic rolling slowly in. I’m no stranger to the adrenaline-soaked sensation of self-defense, but I haven’t had a gun pointed at me since the night we retrieved Liam and Bria.

It's worse than I remember.

“I asked you a question, asshole,” Cole says.

I release my breath slowly, coming back to myself. “What?”

“The meeting?” he asks, stopping about a foot away as his guys flank him. We’re completely surrounded. “With my dad? You didn’t show.”

“Sorry about that. Evie had just been told some upsetting news about her father,” I say carefully, watching closely for any sign he knows what I’m talking about. “It wasn’t a good time to leave her.”

“Letting your personal dramas interfere with business is a sign of weakness.” Cole stares back at me, eyes glittering coldly. “You’re lucky my father’s feeling generous.”

Finn, usually the calmest and most composed of us all, shifts from one foot to the other beside me. He’s a live wire right now, vibrating with anxious energy. Another layer of dread settles over me. Finn is Uncle Keegan’s only son and my responsibility. He’s always been about this life, just like his dad, but I don’t like that he’s in this situation because of me. My fingers tighten on the Glock, knowing he and Alex will back my play if it comes to that, but it won’t. We’re outnumbered, one bad choice away from being mowed down like grass.

“Let your father know I apologize.”Inhale, exhale.I wish he’d lower his fucking gun.

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