“And we’ll bring her home,” Mace adds. He’s busy tearing off a chunk of crusty bread and doesn’t look up.
“Home to this house?” I ask, taking us straight back to the argument we’d had on the day Quinn was taken.
Mace breaks his bread into smaller and smaller pieces. “That was supposed to be a peace offering, Reid. Fucking take it.”
“You could just say sorry.”
He lifts his gaze to mine and holds it. “Fuck you,” he says softly.
My eyes film with tears and when I smile, it’s the first genuine one in a while. “Fuck you too.”
Lily jabs Mace with her elbow. “Can’t you two say you love each other like normal people?”
“We’re not normal,” Mace and I say at the same time.
“I can vouch for that,” Connie adds. She’s doing her thing of cleaning up an invisible mess in the kitchen so she can supervise our mealtimes. “Is Ash going to be long, or should I take him a tray of food?”
“He was on a call,” Hunter says. “I don’t imagine it’ll be a long one.”
He doesn’t say it like it’s a good thing, because it isn’t. Ash is talking to John McConkey.
For months, John has insisted that our feud with Barrettwas a family matter. I’m not sure if Quinn’s abduction changes that, but Ash is determined to try again. From his grim features when he appears in the kitchen, I prepare for more bad news.
He sinks into the seat next to me. “It wasn’t an outright no,” he says. “There’s only so long he can argue that Ilya’s activities don’t affect him. They might not share an interest in human trafficking, but the Russian’s are competition in other areas. And John wasn’t too pleased when I told him the Barkovs don’t rate him as a threat now.”
“Is that enough to convince him to join our fight?” I ask.
Ash ladles stew into his bowl. “He wants a night or two to sleep on it. But I’ll speak to Killian in the meantime.”
Killian is one of John’s sons, and our closest ally in the Irish mob. He’s responsible for expanding the legitimate side of the McConkeys’ business, but he isn’t averse to getting his hands dirty for the right reasons. It’s why he and Ash get along so well.
“We won’t stand idly by and wait for the Irish,” Ash says, preempting my next question. “We might not have an army behind us yet, but we can play Ilya at his own game. He knows our weaknesses, and we know his.”
“Which are?”
“Overconfidence for one. He’s going to make a mistake, and we’re going to be ready for him.”
“There might be one way to get him to overstretch,” Lily offers. Mace tips his head forward in question, but she won’t meet his eye. “Quinn’s plan wasn’t half-bad.”
“We’ve been talking,” Maddie adds, sitting up a little straighter. “Exploitation is nothing new to either of us.”
“So, we figured that if we had trackers implanted where no one could find them…” Lily says, but she’s already flinching as her husband catches up with her plan.
“No fucking way, Lily! You’re not putting yourselves up as bait.”
Hunter turns in his seat to face his wife. “Don’t even suggest it,” he says raising a finger to her.
The hand gesture doesn’t go down well with Maddie, and the whole table erupts. Even Connie throws in her opinion, but I’m too stunned to add my voice. They’d do that for Quinn? For me? Obviously, I can’t let them take that kind of risk, nor would I put Hunter and Mace through the hell I’m going through. But fuck. I love my people. Quinn’s going to love them too.
Emotion bubbles inside my chest, but the vibration continues. It’s not my heart rattling behind my ribcage. It’s the phone in my pocket. I jump to my feet as I scramble to answer Strider’s call.
“Hello?”
“The tracker’s on.”
I choke out the breath I’ve been holding for days. “Where is she?”
“Nevada.”
