Page 74 of Bozo

Jerry shakes his head. "Not exactly. We’ll set up surveillance on them, have our guys watching them. Whoever follows you—us—will be brought in for questioning."

Raptor nods slowly. "It could work. But it's risky as fuck."

"Everything about this situation is risky," Jerry counters. "But if we do nothing, they'll keep coming after her. This way, we control the situation, and we keep her safe."

I pace the room, my mind racing. The thought of putting Gráinne in any kind of danger makes me sick, but I know Jerry's right. We need to end this, and fast.

"Fine," I growl finally. "But I want every fucking precaution taken. And I'm going to be there every step of the way."

Jerry nods. "Of course. We'll have eyes on her at all times. And we'll make sure she's never actually in harm's way."

Preacher nods, already pulling out his phone. "I’m letting Prez know what’s going on. He’s going to want to ensure that we have men on the clubhouse and women."

“I’ll call in my men too,” Jer says with a dark grin.

I leave them be and step outside for a moment, needing some air. I’m worried that this could all be for nothing, that it could end up backfiring on us and Grá will be hurt despite everything.

I pull out my phone, staring at Gráinne's number. I should call her, tell her what's happening. But the thought of hearing the fear in her voice again makes me hesitate.

"You okay?" Jerry's voice comes from behind me.

I turn to face him, my expression grim. "No, I'm not fucking okay. The woman I love has a fucking bastard after her who wants her dead."

Jerry's eyes soften. "I know. But we’re going to make her safe. We’ve got a plan and it's our best shot at ending this quickly."

I nod, knowing he's right but hating it all the same. "If anything happens to her..."

"It won't," Jerry says firmly. "We'll make sure of it."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's to come. "Alright. Let's do this."

As we head back inside to finalize the plan, I can't shake the feeling that we're about to step into something much bigger and more dangerous than we've ever faced before. But for Gráinne, I'd face down the Devil himself.

I’m like a caged animal,prowling the warehouse that Jerry owns. It’s out in the docklands, and I’m waiting with my brothers for that motherfucker to be brought to us. I went to Grá’s apartment to get her clothes just as we’d planned, and to no one’s surprise, that motherfucker was waiting on her. It didn’t take me longer than a second to see that it was Étienne, the man who was at the poker game in Spain. He’s also the fucker who Grá described as the man who attacked her.

He watched from across the street as I entered her apartment and was still there when I left. I saw the twisted fucking grin he had when we made eye contact. He’s not stupid; he’ll know we’re the ones who are hiding Gráinne. If he’s sensible, he’ll stay the fuck away from the clubhouse. Jerry had Maverick and Emmanuel follow him when he left Grá’s apartment. From there, they followed him across town to another apartment complex in Rathmines, where Jer has more of his men currently watching, while Maverick and Emmanuel continue to follow Étienne. Soon, they should have him cornered and be bringing him to me.

I want answers and I’m done playing around.

The warehouse is silent except for the sound of my boots on the concrete floor. Preacher and Raptor stand nearby, their faces grim. We're all on edge, waiting for the moment when Maverick and Emmanuel bring that piece of shit Étienne to us.

I check my phone for what feels like the hundredth time. No messages. No updates. The waiting is fucking killing me.

"They'll be here soon," Preacher says, his voice low and reassuring. "Maverick knows what he's doing."

I nod, but I can't shake the tension coiling in my gut. Every second we wait is another second that Gráinne could be in danger. I know she's safe at the clubhouse, surrounded by our brothers, but it doesn't stop the worry gnawing at me.

Suddenly, the warehouse door creaks open. We all snap to attention as Maverick and Emmanuel drag in a struggling figure. It's him. Étienne.

They throw him to the ground in front of us. He looks up, his eyes wild with hatred and fear. Good. He should be fucking terrified.

"Well, well," I growl, stepping closer. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Étienne spits at my feet. "Fuck you," he snarls in a heavy French accent.

I don't hesitate. My fist connects with his jaw, sending him sprawling. "That's not very polite," I say, shaking out my hand. "And here I thought we were going to have a nice chat."

Preacher and Raptor move to flank me as I crouch down to Étienne's level. "Now, you're going to tell us everything you know about Dragomir Popescu and The Revenant. And you're going to tell us why you're after my woman."

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