“Mason,” he says, sounding increasingly frantic. “What the hell is going on? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. I can’t explain it all right now, but King’s father, well, he’s a piece of shit. And I think King has gone to confront him, and I need… I need you to put me in touch with your clients. I could really use their help.”
“Fuck, Mase. You really want to fuck around with the Ryan brothers?”
I’ve met the Ryans a few times, and they all seem like nice guys. Mikey and I in particular get along well—we bonded over our similar sense of humor. But I’m under no illusions regarding the kind of men they are and the kind of shit they do.
“They are the exact people I need tonight, bro.”
It’sConor Ryan I get ahold of. From the background noise when he answers, he must be in their club, The Emerald Shamrock. He’s expecting my call, as Nathan promised he would be.
“Hey Mason, what can I do for you?”
“I don’t know how much Nathan has told you but…” I screw my eyes closed and go for it. “I think my boyfriend’s in trouble. He went to his parents’ house earlier, and he didn’t come back. His dad is a real piece of shit, and I’m sure something bad has happened. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing here, Conor, or what I’m walking into, and… I guess I was hoping you could help. Or that you might know a couple of guys who could.”
“Right now?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
He’s quiet for a minute, then he says, “I mean, I have a few bouncers who are handy, but we generally take care of our own business, you know?”
I can imagine.
“Who is this guy? The father?”
“Kyngston Worthington III.”
He huffs a dark laugh. “The investment banker?”
“Yeah,” I reply, unsure if his laugh is good or bad.
“That fucker tried to have us shut down,” he growls. Seems the evil laugh was a good thing. “Someone will be outside your building in twenty minutes.”
After I hang up, I realize I didn’t give him my address. But people like Conor Ryan probably have plenty of ways to get that kind of information.
The black SUVpulls up twenty minutes later, as promised. I can’t see the faces of the driver or the passenger due to the tinted windows, but when I climb into the back, I’m shocked to find Conor driving and his older brother, Shane, in the passenger seat. To be honest, I feel fucking honored.
“You okay?” Shane asks.
“No,” I admit. “I feel like I’m going to vomit.”
He grins at me. “It’ll pass.”
“Don’t throw up in my new car,” Conor warns, which doesn’t help at all. “So we’re going to the Worthington estate, right?”
“Yeah. I think that’s where he is.”
Conor drives like he knows where he’s going, and I don’t question him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew where every person of interest in New York lives, though the thought is mildly terrifying. As are the two eldest Ryan brothers, who sit in silence. “Thanks for doing this,” I say, if only to fill the awkward silence.
“Happy to help.” Conor meets my eyes in the rearview mirror and nods.
“It was a quiet night,” Shane adds. Then he rolls his shoulders. “And things have been a little too quiet lately.”
Conor laughs like they’ve shared an inside joke. I know from Nathan and Drake that the Ryans have settled down somewhat since they became fathers a couple years ago, and I can imagine the lifestyle they lead is not an easy one to step away from. No matter their reason for being here, though, I’m glad they are. My stomach is twisting itself into knots worrying about King andwhat we might find when we get to where we’re headed, and I am beyond relieved to have them as backup.
Chapter
Forty-Nine