“Hunter? Sweet, timid Hunter?” I laughed. “No. There are men I would believe that of—”
“You better fucking believe it.” Grant’s shoulders slumped. “He almost died once because he jumped one of the meanest sons of bitches on the planet and was party to the removal of a Kings of Men tattoo. He’s lucky that I fuck that man on the regular, or even being King’s son might not have stopped Reaper from skinning a long strip out of his hide some dark night.”
I stilled. “For real, King’s his father?”
“No, for fake,” Forrest said and laughed. “Yeah, that’s true. King’s my dad too.” He rolled his eyes.
Scowling, I went to find my boots. “Wouldn’t have thought he’d lie to me about being a King, but it just seems so unlikely. Can’t fecking believe Hunter did something like that.” I slid my boots on while I griped, “They absolutely wouldn’t go to fucking Queens without me.”
“Hunter will do a lot of things for someone he feels he owes some sort of loyalty,” Forrest said softly, and when I looked up at him, he stared directly into my eyes with his serious green ones. It was downright silly that a puffball like him should make me feel like squirming on the spot, but I wanted to. I tipped my chin at him instead while I laced up my boot.
“Did you say something to my brother that he might take a certain way? A serious way you probably didn’t mean?”
To avoid that knowing stare, I turned my attention firmly to my boot as I tied a bow and then tied one again, so the laces wouldn’t come undone. “I don’t say shite I don’t mean.”
“Well, he’s off doing stupid stuff for you, so you better go get him before he dies and takes Grant’s fiancé with him. There will be a lot of people in New Gothenburg not happy with that.”
My heart squeezed. “Fuck. All right. I didn’t start this. Certainly wasn’t me who said skip off to rumble without enough people to do it up right.”
Forrest put his hands on his knees, got level with my face, and smiled. “You did start this, actually, and—” He kissed my cheek. “—I trust you to fucking keep my brother safe, or I wouldn’t have been okay with this. Right now you’re not giving me a lot of good feelings, here.”
“Last I checked, he’s a grown man.” Quickly I did up the other boot and then stood, forcing Forrest back to his feet.
Forrest huffed and crossed his arms over his stomach, leaving him with a vulnerable aura that made my gut clench. It was too easy to think about Hunter stuck in a bad situation looking just like that. “LastIchecked,” he said, all trace of friendliness gone, “I don’t fucking care how old he is. Go find him! He doesn’t seem to understand what guards are for.”
The staring contest I had with Forrest just infuriated me above and beyond anything, especially since he didn’t blink at all. I stormed out of the room, calling Corbin as I went, and again got no answer. I stomped the whole way through the Virtue in a towering rage and clear on out the front to the sidewalk, where I finally had to concede that the stupid blighter must have thought I couldn’t handle myself and had gone off in a blaze of arse-stupid glory to die with Hunter. Usually Corbin was smarter than that. My plan had been to go back to Queens later with all of my men and end this once and for all, butno. No one could fucking wait. There would be hell to pay when I caught up with them.
The car was gone from the parking garage—Corbin must have it—so I went back inside to find Rourke, uncomfortably aware of how much time was slipping through my fingers. I had to search Rourke down and tell him I needed to borrow a car. Once I got the wheels turning, I stood in his dim office going out of my mind while on the phone trying to reach at least one of my men. The call beeped in my ear several times, and I was beginning to grind my back teeth when it was finally picked up.
“Hello?” Tadgh Quinn answered the phone, sounding dozy as ever, like I’d just pulled him from a barstool, or maybe he was still on it.
“Ya fluthered fuck. It’s too early in the night to be soused.”
“ ’M not, Jamie, I swear.” The thick guilt that slathered his reply said otherwise. “Thought ya were staying at the Virtue for a well-deserved holiday.”
“Uh-huh. Sure you’re sober. Don’t ya worry about what I’m up to, just do as you’re told. Get the men. Meet me in Queens. Near that old café. The one that used to have that shite bubble tea.”
“Blue Lagoon?”
“Aye, that one.”
“Which men do ya want me to bring?” There was a sound on the other end, almost like beads or something scattering on the floor, and then it occurred to me it was probably poker chips, and a light curse from him about wasted money confirmed I was right.
“All of them. And if ya pull this job arseways because you’ve been stuck in Galloway’s gambling in back all day, you’re going to eat those cards in your hand.”
“Christ, how do ya do that?” He swore a few more times and said something low to someone else on his end. “That’s… Jamie, that’s thirty guys, at least, you’re talkin’ about.”
“And they better all fucking turn up. Anyone who doesn’t answers to me, and he’s not going to like the way his face looks when I’m done.” I hung up without waiting for another round of excuses. It wasn’t my problem if they all thought me being at the Virtue to rendezvous with Killough at his leisure meant they could feck off.
“Jamie.” I spun away from the painting on the wall I’d been glaring at without really seeing. Rourke raised an eyebrow as he handed over the keys to a car. He told me what space at the parking garage the vehicle was in, and then said, “You want to visit our toy room?”
“Aye, I better. Let’s see what ya have.”
I wasn’t surprised when I found myself following Rourke downstairs to the basement. The Virtue was massive, and it was no great shock to be led into an area that looked like what I would expect any boiler room in any hotel would look like, with a long row of water heaters. He walked behind them along the brick wall and then stopped at what seemed to be no place special, though it must have meant something to him. He felt around with both hands until he let out a small pleased sigh and pushed on one of the bricks. It moved, and I laughed as the entire section of wall slid in and to the right, leaving a doorway in its place.
“Neat trick.” I eyed the threshold appreciatively. “Didn’t even notice a seam.”
“You should have seen the bill from the contractor,” Rourke said, dry as ever. He proceeded into the room beyond, and with my stomach tensing eagerly, I trailed after him. There were several large gun vaults hanging open. I spied handguns, rifles that would work for taking someone out from a rooftop, and a few AK-47s. One vault seemed dedicated to the type of arms you couldn’t even use in a city, especially the rocket launcher.
