Page 49 of Ronan

“Who sent you?” I bark out again.

“I told you. I don’t know anything. I was told to drop off the letter and get out of there.”

“You were told by who?” I bellow and punch him in his gut once again.

The rawny bastard can take a beating. I’ve been pounding on him in this run-down building since I caught up to him and Lochlann. His face is bloody, and his eye is beginning to swell shut.

I’m wearing his blood on my white shirt and knuckles. I want answers and I want them now. Who dares threaten my woman?

“I don’t know,” he groans.

“You take a letter to a woman to threaten her, and you don’t know anything about who sent you? Do I look like an eejit?”

Tired of this and not knowing much about this location Lochlann has brought us to, I reach into this fucks pocket and pull out his phone and wallet. I need to get the information I want and be gone. I have someplace I want to be.

I haven’t been able to get Dean off my mind. That kiss is never far from my thoughts. When I learned she was in Cali signing books, I had to see her.

I’m only in California for a wee bit. I’m checking in on some things for Black and Lock while Joe and the others are in New York with the Briggs and Mairetties. I learned about the appearance because I’ve been keeping tabs on anything Dean Foxx.

We have unfinished business. For now, I’m ignoring certain other details that have come to light with that note. I’ll process all that once this is taken care of.

“You don’t want to talk? Fine. Let’s see if you have people you care about. They can take a beating for you. Maybe then you’ll start to move your lips.”

He remains mute as if he couldn’t care less. We’ll see how long that bullshit holds up. I snort as I pull his ID from the wallet and toss it back at him. It hits him right in the face, causing me to chuckle to myself.

“You’re a long way from home,” I say and whistle as I read the address on his ID.

He says nothing, continuing to piss me off. I want to know who I plan to kill for threatening Dean. I’m going to have someone’s head.

“You want to know something, Tom Beuford?”

He shrugs his shoulders slightly. “You’re shit at picking friends. You see, I surround myself with people I can learn from. People who will teach me things. Things like why not to take on tasks without knowing the details about what I’m getting myself into.

“Or people who can teach me how to get into someone else’s phone without needing their passcode. Aye, I’ll have to tell my nephew that one still works for me.” I turn his phone to him and shake it in his face so he can see I’m in his device and have access to all his information.

This seems to light a fire under his ass. Panic fills his face, and he begins to fight against Lochlann’s hold. This either means the name I’m looking for is on this device, or he has someone he cares about on here whom he doesn’t want me to find.

“I just came in for the job. I owe a lot of money. I was told if I did this, my debts would be wiped clean. I had no idea she was connected to you, man. They said she was just some author. He said not to get too close to her and not to engage her without a crowd around or some shit.”

“He who? I’m not going to ask you again.”

“They’re holding my girl until I return, man. I know who you are. I know what you’ll do to me, but they’ll do so much worse to her if I talk.”

“Sounds like you’re both going to die either way. They’re not expecting you back. They probably already killed her, so you might as well talk,” I say dryly.

“Dalmat. He has her.”

“The Albanians? Bujar’s younger brother?”

“Yes, I owe Bujar the money. I used to work for his brother. They gave me a one-way ticket and promised I’d get Joanie back once they heard from the author and knew the job was done.”

“One-way ticket?” I scoff. “They knew she would kill you. It’s your lucky day. I’m going to do you a favor.”

“Man, I fucked up getting involved in all of this. You help me get back home and get my girl back and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Ach, ya misunderstood me. I’m not yer da, I’m not going to help ya out of your coke habit mistakes. I don’t plan to do shit for ya but take yer life mercifully. I’ve already shown ya too much courtesy, making sure ya understand my words.”

“But … but I could be of use to you. Please. Don’t do this.”

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