“Is Stroviak the name of his partner?”
War stands and stretches. He’s so tall his fingers graze the ceiling. “Yeah. Anvil’s last name is Stroviak.”
“You think it was a good idea to throw his daughter across a room?”
An evil smirk curves his lips. “Impulsive decision.”
“She could’ve been hurt.”
His dark gaze slides to my face. “I could bench three hundred at fifteen.”
“Meaning?”
“Did I break any bones when I put you in the back of the truck?” War shakes his head as he walks over to the small flatscreen that’s mounted in the corner of the room. “When I hurt people, it’s no accident.”
“Still, you might have scared her.”
He murmurs some words in Russian before turning to face me.
“What?”
“The princess one told the violent one she’s not allowed to hit people, even if they’re mean. And especially not if they’re so big.” For a brief moment, a smile appears, and War looks almost human. He rests his hands on his head, huge muscles straining the sleeves of his shirt. Then he sits on the end of the bed again. “What I said just now was ‘born fighters fight.’” His head tilts as he looks over at me. “Ever meet Anvil?”
I shake my head.
“Yeah, well… the younger one, she’s all Stroviak. About the only thing that kid got from the mother is a fucking X chromosome that’s dormant.” He checks his watch. “She was looking for a fight, and I gave her the closest thing anyone ever has. She look scared to you when she hit that mattress pile of stuffed animals?” Staring down at the floor, he allows himself another flash of a smile.
The idea that he thinks he was providing a child with fun by tossing her across a room is crazy. And yet, Makayla did erupt like a volcano without an ounce of fear or regret.
“Her father may not view your version of play-fighting as casually as you do.”
“May not.” He stands. “And then you and Blondie can cheer my demise.”
“Blondie is Ash?”
Without answering, he rolls his massive shoulders as though he needs to keep his muscles loose. “It’s been long enough. I’m gonna roll out to a safe distance to check for messages from J.” He pulls my phone from his pocket and sets it on the end of the bed. “Give me an hour for the round trip. If I’m not back by then, it’s safe to turn your phone on.”
“What makes you think I won’t turn it on the instant you leave?”
“Nothing.” His gaze sweeps over me. “Nor do I really give a shit. By now, you should realize theonlyway I’d do what I just did for you is as a favor to him. From here on out, if you don’t cooperate with being helped, you’re on your fucking own.”
I lose our stare-down, and he stalks over to the door. Without another word, he walks out and slams the door behind him.
So, I’m alone.
Free to participate in my kidnapping. Or not.
56
JAMIE
“C,” I say slowly. “I learned things I needed to learn during Crue training, and that was always with the intention of using those skills both to carry out my revenge and to do whatever operations you put in front of me. I’m not looking to get out of C Crue early. I’m committed to being an investment that pays dividends.”
“We’ve got no Ireland-based operations. And that’s always been the goal, right? To go back?”
“Not if it means cutting all ties here and leaving things hanging.” I splay my fingers on the table. “I’m in a position to help with the on-campus operation. I want to see it through. And to do any other work you think I’m suited to. I’m ready.”
“There’s no half in,” C says. “I never should’ve agreed to let you do a one-year contract. This isn’t a tour in the fucking military. It’s a life sentence. And the guys you’re working with need to know you’ve got their backs, not some hidden agenda that’s more important than their lives. In their place, I would want you gone.”
