Page 106 of Debt of My Soul

“I doubt this is why you came here, R. Get to it,” Darrin snaps.

Raven pulls a hand through his blue-black hair, the hue as if he has an azure light hovering above him at all times. Although his eyes rival the color of coal, the man is ghostly pale. It’s a sharp contrast to the deep V-neck shirt he wears, revealing the delicate curves of a lily tattoo inked across his chest.

“I want in,” he says.

“In what?” Blitz counters

“Your network. Word around town says the DEA is sniffing close. You need the numbers, D.”

A drop of sweat rolls down my back, wicking away at the band of my pants.

“You know I don’t have that authority. The Cartel dictates those brought in. They haven’t been too happy with you.” Darrin smirks and I wonder how he’s keeping calm standing near the man who sent men to attack us only several days ago. I, for one,do not have the patience for this game. At the mention of the DEA and rumors circling, I cringe. Our window is closing.

“See, I think you have more pull than you let on.” Raven shuffles on his feet, shoving both hands in his pockets. A linked chain dangles from his right pocket, and it clinks with each rock back and forth.

Panic sets in and I swallow the lump in my throat. Raven’s desire to get in with the Cartel is not something on our mission radar. He’s always been the contender, the rebel to the network. Noncompliant. Darrin always said Raven hated the idea of men from outside the country running things.

“I don’t.” Darrin says it calmly, but I don’t miss the tick of his jaw or the tightening of his fists on the arms of his chair. Rage simmers beneath, and I know he’s considering his options at this moment.

Killing Raven would not earn him any favors with Raven’s men, and he has many. But I won’t let him touch my brother, no matter how stupid he was for pledging alliance to a man worse than Darrin by far.

“Perhaps …” Raven drawls. “Perhaps I should stop by and have a chat with River. How is she doing these days?”

Darrin stills. His gaze levels Raven, all pretense stripped away.

I’ve never asked River. Never cared to. However, there was always a taut line that pulled through her when I spoke of Darrin. It’s the same one barely holding D together right now.

Whatever the history, Raven knows it.

“I’ll reach out to my contact.” It’s all Darrin has to say, and the high tension is ripped from the room.

“Good man,” Raven says, smiling. He looks around, admiring the break room. “Looks like business is good. My men were impressed with yoursetup.”

A snarl curls at my lips and instinctively I step forward.

“Liam.” Darrin’s stand down command is woven in the way he says my name.

Raven continues to bait. “Would be nice to see your new establishment as well. I’ve always admired your ability to juggle both sides of the business.” He chuckles, amused with himself.

Blitz rolls his eyes and pulls his phone out. “Are we through with this shit?”

I can’t stand Blitz, but I could kiss him right now for saying what all of us are no doubt thinking.

“Paying customers are welcome anytime,” Darrin says as he stands from his seat.

What the hell?

Darrin is not friendly with Raven. Seems like the comment about River has made himflexible.

“Tonight then. Show us around.” Raven slaps Adam on the shoulder and he flinches. It takes everything in me not to grab Raven’s arm and twist until a loud pop fills the room. “It’ll give our new guy here some time with his brother and his newwife.”

Adam’s eyes flick to mine and they narrow into slits, all but a growl emitting from him, and he looks down on me in disgust.

I shake my head. I’ve given everything for my brother, and he hates me for it.

I won’t apologize for Fleur, for the feelings I’ve grown into. She brings new purpose and drive to my life, stretching it beyond a mission, beyond only being good for saving my brother and disappointing my parents.

While I’m unsure about how she feels for me, I’ve been more balanced than I have in my life with her around. There’s nothing else I want to draw—I can’t—it’s always her. Capturing the light dusting of hair on her arms, or the few freckles on her back that match those on her face. Each detail I cling to and record in my drawings, hoping to retain any and all information about her.

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