Page 124 of What Lies Within

"You went quiet," Ronan says as we emerge from the forest onto a less populated section of the hillside.

I stall, brow furrowed at the sight before me. Three solid timbers framing a hole in the fucking hill. “Didn’t know there were mines here.”

"There's not." Ronan sets Terry's feet down. "There were exploratory shafts made a fucking age ago, but they moved north when they figured what they wanted weren't here." He dials a combination lock on the steel fence gate blocking the entrance. "Council has some marked, but this one isn't on their records. If they came across it, they'd believe it closed due to contamination and be reluctant to step inside."

“You’ve got a fucking dead cow hole.”

“A what?” He grins.

"Farms. They have pits they throw dead cows in. When they get too full, they cover them up and dig a new one. Guess this is your dead cow hole, huh?"

“I guess.” He swings the gate open. “Not far to go.”

“I ain’t going in there.”

“Scared of the dark?” Ronan taunts.

I fix him with a dead stare. “Close quarters, asshole. We may be friendly now, but that don’t mean I trust you.”

He sighs, hands on his hips. "Well, fuck, Tyke. That's gonna make this take all that much longer."

“Not my problem.”

"Fancy heading back to the house and breaking the news while I finish this?" He smirks when I don't respond. "Exactly. Now pick up his fucking split melon and help me do this. Yeah?”

49

DIGGER

“I got a message.” Rae ambushes me the second I step out of Tyke’s office, ushering me away from Minion with her body. “See.”

She offers her phone, and I read the latest bubble.

All clear. He’s on his way back.

You can show me how grateful you are later.

I resist the impulse to send the fucker a reply. Tamp down the urge to get on my fucking bike and make the delivery in person. “That all he has to say?” Asshole would probably add to her debt if she asked him to relay what happened. Has Terry kicked him out? Did they fight? What was said?Shit. I’ve got so many fucking questions.

“That’s all.” She pats my pockets with her free hand. “Where’s your phone? Don’t you have that tracking app thing?”

I take her wandering hand in mine. "As much as I love you feelin' me up, baby girl, no, I don't have that 'app thing.' Only Turnip had the one where he could pinpoint our whereabouts."

“Can he still do that now?” Her excitement turns sharply toward concern.

“Nope. Handed the device in when he left. It’s club property.”

“So, who has it now?" She jiggles her head, eyes wide, urging me to get to the point.

“Tyke.”

“For fuck’s sake.”

I can't help but smile. She's cute when flustered, even if the circumstances have had my chest knotted tighter than a beginner's knitting project since we first noticed him gone. "He'll be okay." He has to be. "Ask Connor if his old man's still home."

She frowns. “What do you mean? He said he was. They were talk?—”

“He’ll know what it means.”

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