Page 65 of Corrupted Union

Oran disappeared for a minute, then returned with a second phone. He lifted his wife’s head upright. “Open your eyes.” She obeyed. He swiped once the facial recognition had unlocked the phone.

He tapped several times, then slowly scrolled, his forehead creasing angrily. “Thefuck? What is it? Some kind ofGame of Thronesshit? Are you fucking kidding me?” Oran shot a look of incredulous disgust at his wife. “Tell me you are not in love with your own brother.”

“Of course, I love my brother,” she said with saccharine innocence.

“Have you fucked him?” Each word dripped disdain.

“No,” she shot back, a touch of emotion resurfacing.

“Do you want to?”

She finally opened her eyes again, leveling him with a semi-lucid stare. “More than I ever wanted to fuck you.”

Jesus. I shook my head. “Tor, go find something to tie her up with. Oran, think we can text and make him believe Caitlin wants to meet up?” We needed to focus, no matter how disturbing the degree of her dysfunction. Traveling down that road at the moment wasn’t going to help.

Oran grimaced and returned to scrolling. “We could figure out where Flynn was living and go to him, but setting up an ambush in neutral territory gives us more of an advantage. Looks like they did meet up on occasion, so that might work.”

He texted out a message and waited.

The phone buzzed.

“Says he’s got a meeting in an hour and asked if she can wait until tonight.”

I looked at Caitlin, coaxing her face toward mine. “Caitlin, look at me,” I said softly.

Her eyes cracked open.

“You love Flynn, right?”

She nodded.

“All you’ve ever wanted was to be with him—to make him proud?”

Moisture pooled on her lashes. “Yes,” she breathed.

“I bet that means you worry about him, don’t you?”

Again, a nod.

“You’ve even followed him, wanting to be close. To protect him. That’s how you saw the scarred man, am I right?” My heart thudded in my chest.

“The men he works with are so dangerous,” she whispered.

“Where does he meet with them, Caitlin?”

“The warehouse.”

“I need you to tell me where it is.”

A tear broke free and trickled down her cheek. “On 30thacross from the High Line.”

I looked at Tor, who now stood behind her. “Secure her.”

He bit off a section of duct tape and placed it over her mouth, then set about taping her hands.

I turned back to Oran. “An hour doesn’t give us much time, but we have the element of surprise.”

“Let’s get that fucker.”

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