Page 8 of When Sinners Fall
He sighs and looks out over the view, taking the Scotch I’ve been pouring for us both. “Cane.” I arch a brow, unsure why they’re being talked about. “Logan specifically. Seems he’s got a new friend he’s looking after. Reed.” I sneer and sink my drink, pissed that the name’s even been mentioned, let alone the problems it gives us. “We have got to play this cool, Dante. There’s no way we’re winning that fight if it’s us on them.” I could if it was one on one. “I haven’t mentioned anything to Abel yet, because you know what he’ll do, so don’t go doing anything fucking stupid. Last thing we need is a feud with New York and Chicago because you both get in a hissy fit about our rank below them.”
“Carter isn’t a problem. He’s dead weight these days.”
“No, but Logan is, and you know his reach. We’ve stayed out of it all these years. We’re going to continue staying out of his business.”
“The hell makes you think you're in control of that decision? Call Abel. Now.”
“No. And if you want to keep us all alive, you’ll let me handle this, just like I handle everything that needs the slightest bit of fucking delicacy.” A snort falls out of me, followed by a full-on fucking rage-fuelled laugh.
“Delicacy? You need to remember what you are under that pretty ass suit, Knox.” I stand and pace for the overhang, about ready to throw his delicacy over the goddamn ledge. “You’re no different than me. We're fucking carnage, that's all.” I frown and think back to what I was thinking before I got in this damn penthouse. Her face makes me lean on the edge of the glass frame and stare blankly, sultry green eyes reminding me of why we're so damn different to everyone out there and I'm not deserving of her at all.
“That might be so, but the only way we get Reed without a full-on war is tactically. You know as well as I do that Logan will kill any of us, or all of us, just to prove he can rather than let us have something without his permission.” Yeah, he’s probably right about that. “But, I do have something that might make this more palatable to him.”
“What?”
“A priest.”
I turn and scowl back at him. “What the hell has a priest got to do with Logan Cane?”
“You let me handle this and I’ll fill you in as I get closer. Abel doesn’t get to know until I’m ready to let him in on it, nor Shaw or Mariana. Certainly not Mother.”
That shit doesn’t sit well with me.
I down my drink and keep scowling at his way of dealing with this crap. I doubt I can hold in much more biding our time before I blow, and that means words might come out of my mouth that screws his plan straight out the window.
“So, you need to find something to occupy yourself with, Dante. We both know you’re barely holding yourself together, as proved with Tyrone back there. That’s not useful, and I need time to set this up.”
I’m still scowling, despite his correct analysis of my feelings on the situation.
He gets up and walks over to me with a folder, casual as fuck strides showing his logic and dispassionate attitude. “I’m only telling you so you know why I’m not delivering. I need you to trust me. I’m doing all I can to make this work, and I can bluff the others. I can’t bluff you.”
A folder gets passed to me. “Let me do this, Dante. You can have Reed the second I’ve got him, and there should be enough in there to keep that rage under lock and key for a while.” I flick through it, looking at all the names that need dealing with and all the girls that need branding up for the next few months. It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough to keep me occupied. “And maybe whatever else you’ve got on your mind can fill in the rest of the time.”
My frown gets deeper. Damn sure that’s not going to be useful to anyone. Definitely not her.
“If nothing else, think about what Logan might do to Mariana while he makes you watch. He's a psychopath in revenge mode. That should make you think rather than act.” I swallow, deferring instantly to that train of thought. One thing no man, let alone Logan Cane, is doing, is screwing around with her. “So, we’re cool, yeah?”
I nod. What else is there to say after that image just ran through my brain? Not much.
“You get three fucking months, Knox,” mutters out of me.
Three. That’s all.
I'll keep myself occupied until then.
CHAPTER FOUR
WREN
Did I see him?
Was my mind playing tricks?
I’m always in my head. I could have just imagined his heart-wrenching brown eyes. They’re the same familiar eyes that have haunted me so many times over the years.
My phone rings for the hundredth time, and I see Bridezilla’s name. I've just finished on the phone with her, and I can’t imagine what she’s got to tell me since the last time we spoke ten minutes ago. She's going to have to learn that while our job description covers full service, we aren’t her puppets, and she will be billed for each and every call.
Just not this one.
