Page 37 of The Piece You Stole

Turning, I give him a long look. “You know how I feel about responsibility.” My gaze settles on the bottle in his hand. He’s supposed to be the hopeful one. Just how much has he had to drink? “You’re smart, you’ll think of something. Though the thinking might be a little easier if you’d stop knocking that back like you can handle your drink.”

“If we had a name, we could sniff her out that way,” Aden says, shoving the bottle toward me.

I take a gulp from the nearly empty bottle. Aden might not be able to handle his drink, but I’ve never had that problem. “Tried the sniffing, didn’t work out.”

“I’m not talking about your nose. Money leaves a trail.” Yawning, he slumps into the couch as if he’s settling into sleep.

Gripping his shoulder, I pull him right back into a seated position. “You’re not done talking yet. Sniff them out how?”

He yawns again, this one so wide his jaw cracks. “You’re always saying money is the best and easiest way to hack someone.”

“No,” I tell him distinctly. “I’ve said that it’s easier tostealfrom them if you have their name. And I’m not a hacker. Yes, there are some people I could ask, but we need more than a name because that info does not come cheap. We’d need other people or businesses to connect this name too. That or a photograph, otherwise, we could be wasting our time digging into the wrong guy.”

“It’s still worth asking your friends, right? If they knew how serious this was, they’d help.” A hopeful note creeps into his voice. Or desperation. Could be either, or both.

Shit, I could probably do with putting my head down for five minutes. It might go some way to clearing the grittiness out of my eyes. Maybe even help me think of what we could do next.

One thing is certain, I’m in no hurry to pick up my cell and call my ‘friends.’

I turn to study Aden, keeping my expression carefully blank. How to tell him that the people I would be asking are not friends, despite what Dariel and I have led him to believe?

They’re not enemies either. What they are, are people you wouldn’t want to walk on the same side of the street with if you knew what they were capable of. Human through and through but fucking animals with no lines they wouldn’t cross if it lined their pockets with cash or favors they can collect down the line. The sort of favors that you’d rather they’d taken an ear from you instead.

“We would have to be sure, Aden,” I say, for once relieved Dariel isn’t here because he knows the people I’d be getting back into bed with, and they make the guys who loaned us the money to buy the Cerberus look like girl scouts. Or nuns.

The price they’d demand would be high. Almost too high…unless I was sure they could lead us to Saige. Then, I’d happily pay it.

Remembering I have a bottle of whiskey in hand, I lift it because fuck knows I need a drink.

“Rylan Treveiler.”

The bottle stops at my lips.

Dariel.

He’s back, and from an iron and black pepper scent that is most definitelynothis, he didn’t come alone.

Their steps move toward us. From the guy’s heavy treads on the apartment stairs, it sounds like he’s a big guy. I’d put him at over six feet and hulking, a similar build to Dariel. I could be wrong and a heavy-boned midget walks through the door.

While Aden and I have been searching for Saige, it looks like Dariel has been busy making new friends. Some fucking alpha.

Aden and I wait in terse silence, until finally, Dariel appears in the doorway, wearing his usual uniform of all black shirt and pants. “The shifter who has her is Rylan Treveiler.”

“Ah, the bedmates.” An unfamiliar man drawls, stepping in through the doorway

The man’s clothes are nicer, definitely designer, and his hair is longer, but the build, the face, and the green eyes are the same. Dariel’s brother. Has to be. A man neither I nor Aden knew existed until right fucking now.

Guess we don’t know everything about each other after all.

“A family reunion?” I smile, as if there’s something amusing about this situation. As if Saige isn’t likely being abused right this fucking moment. “Thatwas what you were so eager to get to? A fucking family reunion?”

Dariel’s eyes sweep over us and narrow as his lips tighten in disapproval. “Get up, we’re going somewhere that serves coffee and food. Aden needs to sober up. Put the bottle down, Kade.”

I don’t move.

Dariel’s brother eyes us curiously. “Ah, so does he give orders in the bedroom as well? Or—”

“Stop talking, Leandro.” Dariel’s voice is a rumble of sound.

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