Page 72 of Run, Little Rabbit

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and mumbles, “Shit.”

Guess she missed the notifications blowing up her phone. Now I just felt guilty.

“Any casualties?” she asks as she gets herself ready to leave. It’s like watching a switch flip in her eyes as she jumps into action.

Veon shakes his head. “Just some minor injuries.”

“Good.” Echo pulls a card out of her bra and places it in front of me. “Send those pictures with this.”

I can already feel the scowl of disapproval against my face as Veon looks at me, but I don’t care. I’m too distracted by the infamous calling card of the Six Minute Killer. It’s there, in black and white and shades of fucking pink. How the police think that Six is a man, I’ll never know.

I don’t know how long I stare at it, but by the time I drag my eyes away from it, Veon and Echo have gone, leaving me alone to blackmail the leader of the Irish Mob.

No pressure then…

Chapter Thirty

Echo

We were getting nowhere. Veon and I were standing at the back of the room like spectators. I wasn’t even worthy of a fucking seat at the table today. What the fuck was I even doing here? Standing here in a room steeped in sweat and testosterone, listening to men make decisions about what to do because the Volkovs had blown up an abandoned warehouse. It was abandoned, for fuck’s sake. It’s clearly an attempt to warn my father to back off. I don’t even know why my dad is trying tomuscle into the Volkov territory anyway. We don’t need it. We’ve got strong partnerships established, money-making enterprises and good product runs. And now what? He’s after the Volkov’s drug business? We don’t need it. My dad’s desire to take it stems from arrogance and greed.

Fucking pathetic. I don’t even work for my father, and even I can smell the dissension in the ranks. I hadn’t seen it until now, but it’s there. Clear as day. The sideways glances the men were throwing towards the twins. The twitch under Dad’s left eye as he realises that he’s losing his grip. Jace narrows his eyes as he scans the room for threats. Jesus, this is going to turn into a fucking bloodbath if someone doesn’t step in.

“We should steal more from them,” Seamus yells, banging his fist on the table. He runs the casino in the city and has worked for the Quinns for a long time. “One crate of guns wasn’t enough. If we want the drug business, we should steal that. Create a supply problem.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Conor scoffs.

Seamus whips his head around to look at him. “What?”

Cillian sighs, and that’s never a good sign. A bored sociopath is one step away from creating his own fun, and the last time Cillian decided to havefun,one guy lost his fingers by way of a cleaver.

I’m almost tempted to egg Seamus on just to see what Cillian will do. We could do with some chaos to liven up the place.

Cillian strokes a finger across his bottom lip. “We’ve already established partnerships with several cartels in South America. Why would we risk jeopardising that over some inferior product?”

“We need to retaliate. We can’t just let them get away with burning down one of our warehouses,” Seamus barks, spittle flying from his lips in his outrage.

There are a number of affirming murmurs to his statement, and dear lord, you’d think he was making a speech in the House of bloody Commons instead of my father’s meeting room.

“There was nothing of value in there. The Volkovs clearly want us to retaliate. The smarter thing to do would be nothing,” Conor says, his voice deceptively calm.

I lean towards Veon to whisper in his ear. “I think this is finally about to get interesting.”

He hums in response but doesn’t say anything. Probably wise. With the tension in here, he’d probably get shot, and as much as I still haven’t gotten over that conversation we had when I returned from the Volkovs, I don’t want to see the guy dead.

It still rankles though, and I catch myself wondering if I should be ashamed of what I did. Was it wrong to be with three men at once? It was no doubt unconventional, but it didn’tfeelwrong. When I was with them, I’d felt freer than I ever had before. I didn’t have to hide behind the masks that I used for everybody else. I could just be Echo Quinn without all those added layers.

I know there had been a spark between Veon and me, but I was coming to terms with the possibility that that was all it was ever likely to be. He didn’t seem the sharing type, judging by his reaction to what happened at the Volkov Mansion, and maybe I was a little bit sad that we’d lost that connection. We needed to find a new level to our friendship, but I knew that was going to take time, and I had to prepare myself for the fact that it might never happen. We both had to want it, and I wasn’t sure Veon did. Hell, I wasn’t sure I did at the moment. It all still felt a bit raw.

The sound of a gunshot sliced through the air, pulling my attention sharply back into the room.

“Cillian! For feck’s sake,” Dad shouted, his Irish twang filtering through with his rage.

Seamus’ body slumped forward on the table, blood pooling onto the dark wood beneath him.

Huh, I guess Cillian got bored of the guy’s ramblings.

“The man was an idiot,” Cillian said with a shrug as he holstered his gun.

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