Page 52 of You Don’t Kiss Your Brother's Best Friends

“Don’t worry, Kayden’s back there too,” I assured her. “He kept filling and refilling Evelyn’s wine glass throughout the night. She can’t say no to him, so she’s fast asleep.”

The answer seemed to satisfy her, and break some of her tension. She finished eating, wiped her fingers, and picked up her phone again.

“Do you want to see everything I found out tonight?” she asked.

“You bet.”

I shuffled closer to her on the bed, not only interested in everything she’d found out, but also just eager to be closer to her. Her thigh felt warm, pressed against mine. Her hair smelled clean and fragrant, exactly like it had all week long, when I was burying my face in it. Shit, back then I guess I was burying a lot of things.

“So these guys here are with Foley,” she pointed at some names I didn’t know. “He’s another Founder, right?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “Jacob Foley.”

“Right, only they talked shit about him all night. To each other, obviously, but also to this guy right here, who’s with Victor’s crew.”

She pointed again, with a slender finger. This time I knew the name.

“Anyway,” Jocelyn went on, “they’re obviously not happy. They just about hate him, actually.”

“Well, heisa ruthless asshole.”

“Duly noted,” said Jocelyn, before continuing. “So later on in the night, they start talking about him not being around for much longer. And one of the guys from Victor’s crew shushes the other guy up, so whatever’s happening, he’s in on that.”

I nodded slowly. “Good to know.”

“And then the third guy, the big guy, he’s coming in tomorrow afternoon,” she concluded. “Ronan somethingorother.”

“Roman,” I corrected her. My hand balled into a fist. “Roman Wynter.”

Memories of Syria came flooding, unbidden, to the forefront of my brain. I tried like hell to shove them back, but the effort only made my shoulder itch.

“Right,” Jocelyn confirmed. Well,hismen hardly said anything the whole night. They barely drank, too. I thought that part was strange. Their boss is still twenty-four hours out, and they’re not drinking anything? Doesn’t make sense.”

I wanted to tell her that Roman Wynter never made any sense; the man was the living embodiment of chaos itself. His recklessness had cost the lives of people I loved, innocent people, people I didn’t even know. The man had come close todying so many times, rumors began swirling he was divinely protected. Maybe he was, for all I knew.

And then he’d taken command of Blight, and everything changed. For the first time in his life, he became cautious. His every move, a calculated means to an end. The man who’d callously blown up half our squad was now a selfish recluse, operating with impunity from the shadows. In that time, he’d done things to cover his tracks. Terrible, terrible things.

Things he would pay for.

“So yeah, he arrives tomorrow,” Jocelyn went on. “They’re all going to the dock to meet up with him, but he’s not coming by boat, he’s coming by helicopter.”

I was dumbstruck. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I heard one of his men allude to it, under his breath.” She looked away for a moment. “The short one, with the neck tattoo.”

“Morris,” I confirmed.

She shrugged. “Didn’t catch his name. But when Roman arrives, this place is going to be empty for a little while. It might be a good time to set up whatever you plan to do.”

With that, Jocelyn dropped her phone and looked up at me. She looked worried.

“Bishop, whatdoyou plan to do?”

I stared into those eyes for a while, trying to forget where we were. I wished we were home again, where everything was simple. Where there was nothing I couldn’t keep from her, and everything I could share.

“Remember that birthday when my parents were away and you baked me a cake?” I said. “Only you hadn’t made a cake before, and you used pancake mix instead of flour?”

Jocelyn blinked in puzzlement. Eventually though, her mouth curled into a smile.

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