“Any more word from Reagan?” he asks, once I’ve set the final dish out.
“No.” I clench my jaw while lowering myself into my chair. “I’ve sent Alex, Garrett, and Jerrad—and a few of their guys—down to New York to see if they can locate her, but they’re still trying to pick up her trail.”
“I tried calling her, but it just goes right to voicemail,” he tells me, and I know he’s as worried as I am.
“How’s Rory?” Liam asks, and I lean in, wanting to know, too. She’s had a rough couple of days.
“She’s still kind of shaken up,” Aidan admits. “She slept most of the day, but she said she might come down to dinner.”
“If she’s not up to it, I can set aside a plate for her,” I offer, and Aidan nods at me appreciatively.
Briar’s been quiet since we all sat down, and I’m surprised when it’s she who speaks up next.
“Who’s Reagan?”
The table goes silent. Only a few scrapes of metal can be heard from Liam’s fork as he stares down at his plate, pushing his food around with it.
I clear my throat. “Our sister,” I inform her.
Briar’s eyes dart around the table, taking in the sudden shift of mood, recognizing that she’s stepped into something complicated.
I start carefully—we’ve been trying to keep Reagan’s disappearance as much of a secret as possible. We’re all nervous about what might happen if word gets out in the underworld that she’s on her own.Unprotected. I can think of quite a few of our enemies who would have a field day with that information.
“She ran away this week.”
“Ran away?” Briar’s eyes widen and she looks around the table. I notice how she keeps casting nervous glances Aidan’s way.
“She wasn’t a fan of lockdown,” Liam jokes, though Briar doesn’t get it.
I lean forward on my elbows, lacing my fingers together over my plate as I try and explain. “I know you are aware that our father died.”
She nods, watching me nervously.
“He was murdered.” Her eyes widen but I continue, “Tensions in the city have been running high since his death. We know the Russians killed our dad, but we feel it’s part of a bigger play to wrestle control of the city.” I watch her face carefully; there’s fear there but she’s still listening. “It appears a few of us have targets on our backs.” She swallows, her fingers tightening around her fork. “Until we get to the bottom of it, we’ve had to tighten security. Reagan, our sister, was not too happy about that, as you may be able to understand. This life—our life—is dangerous. As our sister, Reagan will never be safe. There will always be someone, somethreat,out there looking toget to us by hurting her.” My eyes hold Briar’s for a moment. It’s a reminder to both of us why I pushed her away in the first place.
“Reagan has been pushing back against the increase in security, and I guess she just finally had enough.” My jaw works and I pick my fork back up. “She texted yesterday saying she was safe and she was sorry, but then she turned her phone off.”
“So you’re going to hunt her down?”
“I’m trying to keep her safe.”
She cocks her head. “There’s a difference.”
The table around us is silent.
“Yeah. There is a difference between tracking someone down and dragging them home. Between watching them and caging them. If she wants out, I won’t force her back. But I also won’t let anyone take advantage of her or put her at risk either.”
She studies my face. “You said she turned her phone off. That kinda sounds like she doesn’twantto be found.”
“Maybe,” I say, leaning back in my chair and tilting my head. “Maybe she just needs a little space to breathe. But it doesn’t change the fact that there are people out there who want to hurt her. I won’t let that happen.”
“You don’t get to decide for her,” she says, and her tone sharpens. I’m not so certain we’re talking aboutReagananymore.
“You’re right.”
Surprise flickers in her expression as she stares back at me.
“I don’t. But I can do what I can. I can keep watch. Make sure there’s a way out if she wants one, and I can keep her safe.”
