Page 39 of Wretched Soul
“Half-brother,” Ash corrects, but I see him flinch when he remembers Reid’s in the room. “And not the half that counts.”
Killian looks in Reid’s direction. “Sorry, kid. It looks like you’re going to have to wait for your baptism of fire.”
“He’s not a fucking kid,” I spit out. “He’s a Griffin. Treat him with some respect.”
“It’s OK, Mace,” Reid says with all the self-control I’m currently lacking. If he’s tense, it’s only because he’s worried that I’m going to launch myself across the table at Killian. “I recognize that I come here without a track record, but I’m in no rush to see bloodshed just to prove myself to you.”
Killian eyes are on me when he says, “Noted.”
“But,” Reid continues, “I am disappointed that the McConkeys are so lacking in integrity. And foresight. If you think the Russians are going to limit what else they do out of deference to John, you’re in for a rude awakening. Once the Bratva establishes a stronghold around Poulton Springs, they’ll be increasing their ability to defend themselves. And one day, they’ll go on the attack.”
Killian stretches his neck. Now my brother has his attention. “It’s a risk,” he agrees. “But we will be monitoring activity.”
“You think you can still rely on me to be your information source?” I ask, the threat implied.
“Look, I know this isn’t the news you wanted,” Killian says, directing the conversation back to Ash. “Dad values your friendship, and you might need us one day if circumstances change. Don’t start burning bridges, Ash.”
“I don’t intend to,” he says. “Tell John we will be dealing with ourfamilymatter, but when the shit starts flying, I expect cover if we need it. I’d do the same for you. I have done the same for you.”
“We know it,” Killian says, releasing a long breath that reflects the collective sigh around the table. There’s a pause long enough to indicate the close of business. “But since you’ve come all this way for nothing, let me extend my hospitality for this evening.” To Reid, he adds, “A night on the town with me in Vegas is an experience not to be missed.”
I’m tempted to tell Killian to fuck off, but Ash answers with a more diplomatic response. “I think we could all do with letting off some steam.”
Killian rises from the table. “We’ll meet for dinner and take it from there. See you later, lads.”
“Fuck!” Hunter hisses, the moment Killian leaves. “It would have been better if we’d never mentioned our suspicions about the stables.”
“I’d rather they back out now than leave us high and dry when we do intervene.”
“And are we going to intervene?” asks Reid.
Ash is back to pacing the room, hands shoved in his pockets. “If we’re going to kill this before it starts, there’s only one option left,” he says. “We go to the matriarch while she’s still got breath in her body.”
“No,” I say. “I’d rather deal with the fucking Bratva than speak to Alice.”
Ash stops in front of me. “I don’t want to speak to her either. But we do this together, brother.”
And he closes down the argument, just like that. I hate that I can’t go against Ash. When it comes to family, he leads and we follow. Almost always.
I’m rolling up my shirt sleeves as I stalk over to the well-stocked bar. Reid is right behind me.
“Thanks for standing up for me,” he says.
I shrug. “I’m not sure you needed any help. You handled yourself better than I would have done if he’d called me a kid.”
“Still appreciated.”
I feel the tension that’s been building between us dissolve, and I’m grateful for it. “Reid, I need to get very, very drunk. Want to join me?” I ask, scanning the bottles on the shelves.
“Whiskey for me.”
I’m reaching for the bottle when he stops me. “Fuck. What happened to your arm?”
Reid’s looking at the memento of my drive with Lily. On each side of the sword inked into my forearm is the imprint of her teeth. It’s bruised in parts and scabbed where she broke the skin.
“It’s nothing,” I say, hating the lie because Lily’s mark on me is everything.
I pour his whiskey, but Reid won’t stop staring. He finally figures out that it’s a bite mark. “Whoa, who bit you?”
