“In a nutshell, yes.”
“I don’t need to tell you to keep your activity concealed,” Brodie added. “We’ve removed the SIM cards and rerouted our IP, but this guy has connections.”
“I take it the hit was arranged through Donegal?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be careful. Cotton—”
I could hear it in her tone, all the things I didn’t want to hear, all the things that wouldn’t make a difference, and stopped her before they escaped. “Thank you, Twiggy. I appreciate this, so much. Stay safe.”
“Wait!”
Finger poised to cut the connection, I paused. “Still here.”
“What should I…I need to tell Shiloh something, Cotton. She’s hurting.”
Guilt struck me, and I knew she was right. “Tell her…I’m fine. And to be watching for a delivery. I’ll be sending something to her.”
Hanging up, I picked up my journal. I had one more letter to write before I sent it to Shiloh.
