Page 112 of The Games We Play
“Says the man who got one of his men to run her off the road. Because you were pushing us together to get intel, you self-serving motherfucker, and she said no. You fractured her fucking wrist.”
“Steady,” Clutch says. I don’t realize I advanced on Cillian until Clutch’s arm stretches across my chest to stop me from moving closer.
We’re moving in around the warehouse. All roads point to here.
“That man is dead. A soldier who can’t follow orders is a liability,” Cillian says finally. “He wasn’t supposed to hurt her.”
“Yeah. Well, a man who can’t look after his family without threatening them to toe the line is a cunt,” I spit.
He has the audacity to smirk. “You have no clue what’s important to me or why I do what I do. I believe in a cause greater than me or you.”
“Easy, Spark,” King mutters. “This isn’t helping Iris.”
Thomas, Iris’s other brother is shoulder to shoulder with Cillian.
He’d offered me his hand when we were introduced. I shook it.
But the jury is still out on him.
I’d asked him how much he knew. And he’d shrewdly answered, “My uncle is a businessman. He doesn’t do anything without reason.” He’d also told me how Cillian loved Michael like his own. That the staff member he’d fired had been showing up late, despite multiple warnings. There was no way he was ever going to do the things he’d threatened. It was simply that he knew Iris would believe him capable.
Thomas grabs my arm. The cockiness is gone. “You honestly think we can get her back?”
“Yeah, kid. I do.”
I have to believe it. I’m gonna manifest that shit right now. “I’m coming for you, Iris,” I mutter into the wind.
As we shuffle along the incline, we can see down into the property. The first thing I notice is that there are definitely people there. There are two vans. One is gray. And without binoculars, I can’t see the license plate. But there are two men on guard, both armed.
We share the intel and decide we’re going with the same approach to breaking into the last warehouse, only with a hell of a lot more people on our side.
All I can do is pray she’s in there.
We swarm the perimeter, staying low to the shrubs and planting. Surprise is our greatest ally.
While Bates, Niro, and two of the Irish disarm the guards, I break the lock to the side door. King texts me from the back of the building.
Two words.
We’re in.
My hands don’t let me down as I hear the lock click and force the door open. With weapons raised, we flood inside.
“Truce until it’s over,” Cillian whispers. “You don’t accidentally shoot me in the crossfire, and I won’t shoot you.”
“Truce,” I accept as he goes left to my right.
Maybe once we have Iris safe, we can talk. Properly. Like adults.
Vex found out the old warehouse was once a sound stage set up for touring musicians to practice. There is nothing left now but the old bones. Narrow corridors and small rooms fill the backstage area. I check each one thoroughly with my weapon raised.
Saint covers my back, and we make swift work of searching until we end up face-to-face with King in front of a large set of doors. A scream comes from the other side of them, and I rush for the handle, but Bates grabs me around the middle.
“Think,” he violently whispers.
The tiny sliver of light around and between the doors only presents the slightest glimpse of what is happening inside. I try to angle myself to get a better look.
I shift slightly from left to right, but I can’t see shit.
