“Should we leave him?” I asked Aspen when he held out an arm for me at the door.
He shrugged.
“Doubt they’d try again so soon.” Rowen turned to stare at Lor, though, as if maybe he was concerned as well.
Aspen only wobbled a hand in the air like a rickety ship caught in a storm, and I took that gesture at face value. He didn’t think he could hazard a guess, which didn’t make me feel better. At fifty-fifty, the odds weren’t great. Aspen’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he was fast to pull it out and answer.
“Hello?” His eyebrows danced high as a low voice on the other end, a man, said a bunch of things rapid-fire. “Yes, sir.”
“What?” I asked. It was clear by the way he squared his shoulders something else was happening.
Rowen only sighed and leaned against my side. “News?”
“We need to get home,” Aspen said.
My stomach turned. “Why? Fallon and Cillian?”
“They’re fine, but our presence has been requested,” Aspen said vaguely. There was a teasing note in his tone I couldn’t quite understand.
“For what?” Rowen snapped, and I knew him well enough by now to tell he was simply tired and exhausted. I ran a hand over his arm, and he shot me a small smile.
“An indefinite sleepover.” Aspen chuckled.
“Fer feck’s sake, what does that mean?”
Aspen only led the way out of the hospital to where he’d parked the SUV. The ride home was tense because Aspen refused to tell Rowen what was happening, but I got the idea Aspen thought whatever was going on was funny and not dangerous, so I stayed out of their bickering. Well, I couldn’t honestly call it a real argument. Rowen fumed and ranted while Aspen refused to speak. Every now and then Rowen grumbled, “What is this sleepover shite?” and Aspen chuckled until he snorted.
When we got to the house we couldn’t park in the driveway because it was full with a van and a car. Rowen was already cursing as Aspen calmly pulled to the curb. Aspen shook his head as Rowen bolted from the SUV to race for the front door.
“What’s going on?”
Aspen didn’t answer, only offered me his hand when we got out. His touch was warm and wonderful, and I leaned against his side. I was baffled when we went into the house. There was an older man with silver hair in a gray polo shirt and khakis, which reminded me strongly of a uniform, coming down the stairs. He had a suitcase in each hand. Aspen pulled me aside, out of the man’s way.
“Hello,” I said to him.
The man only nodded back without making eye contact.
I said hello to strangers carrying luggage four more times as I headed up the stairs, doing my best to keep to the left to allow people coming down to get by without knocking them over. When we reached Cillian’s room on the third floor he was scowling at a young man, with large blue eyes and a pointed chin, who wore the same uniform as the others. He nearly fled from Cillian with two more suitcases in his hands.
“Who are these people?” I asked.
“The boss’s house staff. We’ve been invited to stay,” Cillian snapped, but without most of his usual heat.
“Fuck,” Rowen said from the hallway behind me.
The rest of the packing happened around me at lightspeed with the men coming back multiple times. Weapons were removed from the house, though I wasn’t certain why, and everyone was too busy to talk to me. I went to Rowen’s room, where most of my things had been stored, and got my own belongings in order, only to have several “helpful” men take over.
It was very perplexing.
Less than an hour later I was walking into the front hall of a mansion that was so big I could easily get lost in it. The heavenly white marble was blinding and reminded me a lot of the hotel where we’d stayed, and I wanted to run up one side of the double staircase and come back down the other, though I doubted anyone would be impressed with me if I actually did it. A woman I recognized as one of the people who helped us speed pack led us up the left side of the split staircase and down a few hallways with prints of famous artwork—until I was completely confused.
“This house needs a map,” I whispered.
Aspen smirked at me and nudged my shoulder.
The woman opened a large black door and inside was what appeared to be a nice living room suite with two overstuffed gray couches and a TV. Our bags and what I thought were weapon cases and boxes full of guns were piled neatly in one corner. Fallon let out a happy sigh and headed toward a couch, but Cillian grabbed his elbow.
“There’s gotta be bedrooms. Let’s find that for ye, and ye can just lie down.”
