Page 109 of What Lies Within

“The fuck is Kane doin’ there?” Has Tyke lost his goddamn mind taking his heir apparent along for the ride? I turn for the armory. “Fuck this. I’m ridin’ out.” Doesn’t matter how wrong it feels. Rae will understand.

She’s got to.

I get that she needs me. Fuck—Iwantto be her safe place while she waits for my brother to return. But the damn woman won’t have much of me left if I lose fifty percent of my family in one hit.

It took three and a half years to pull myself out of the dark when I returned from tour. I ain’t sure I got that much left in the tank anymore.

"He meant it when Minion told you to stay here." Hammer's firm touch on my shoulder stalls me. "Let me go. I'll set myself up nearby with the truck, so if they need help gettin' out of there, I'm close."

"No." I brush his hand off. "You've got a kid to think about. I've got no one relying on me."

“You sure about that?” He nods toward the girls.

Fuck it.Why do I still default to that? How hard-wired in me is it? To be so… isolated.

My jaw tics, over and over, faster and faster. “It’s my goddamn brother, Hammer.”

"Yeah, it is. And if God forbid it got to that, I know he'd want you here to take care of what he left behind. Maddie. Harvey." He swallows and wets his lips. "Rae."

“Fuckin’ hell.” My head swims. I back up a step to plant my ass on a barstool before I keel over.

What the fuck you done, Tyke?

43

TYKE

I'll never forget when our biology teacher brought a dead owl to school. The old guy had found it in his garden and figured the tiny corpse would be a great learning opportunity for his middle-high students. That cold, stiff bird lay on a stainless tray at the front of the classroom half the day while he rotated it through his three classes. By the time it came around to us, the fucking thing stank—my first encounter with the odor of death. Mottled brown feathers with a streak of red where a cat had got it, and these tiny matte black, soulless eyes.

I stare into the same goddamn eyes now; only it ain't a dead bird on my tutor's table—it's Terry's cleaner. His enforcer, lackey, hitman, whatever you want to call him.

It’s Ronan I face on the concrete paver porch, no less than two guns trained on me from somewhere amongst the trees.

I didn't come here expecting anonymity; sure as fuck knew it'd be no secret when I brought my bike through the valley. Asshole would have heard me coming ten whole minutes before I turned up his mountain road. But I also expected a bit of a fight when I got here. Not this terse hospitality as I stare at a man who could kill me as quickly as he could step aside to let me in.

I hate being disappointed.

“How’s your little girl?” Ronan asks in his carefree Irish accent—the start of his words clipped, the vowels rounded.

I regard the man before me, casually dressed in dark slacks and a black Henley beneath a fine-knit sweater the same color. His hands are slung in his pockets, and the wrinkle where his pants fold atop his heavy boots gives off an air of disregard. But I know he's anything but careless as he studies me, waiting for my answer.

“She’s recovering’,” I clip. “How’s your master?”

Ronan bristles at the slight. “Myemployeris enjoying breakfast at present.” He drops his gaze the length of me. “Can I pass on a message?”

"Eh." I glance down the stone chip driveway, where two blacked-out SUVs sit on the hillside in a leveled-out parking bay. "I'd rather pass it on myself." Ronan's jaw firms. I smirk. "How many bites you got left to feed him?"

The career killer sighs, eyes closing briefly. “I don’t have beef with you, Tyke. Now’s not the day to start any.”

“That so?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Name one time I did anything that affected you personally.” His accent makes the word anything come out sounding like anyting.

I work my jaw side-to-side and refuse to break eye contact.Fuck. I can’t pick one. Sure, he’s done shit that’s caused trouble for us as a flow-on, but he’s never directly hurt or killed any of our own.

I did that.

“Come in,” he relents. “Park yer ass on the seat there, and I’ll go see if he’s in the mood for a slinging match.”

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