* * *
Sloan stared at us carefully,barely contained fury on his face. It wasn’t often wesawthe boss mad, but the only thing keeping him calm enough not to rip our hearts out was Conall rubbing his arm. The corner of his mouth twisted into a snarl and contorted the scar on his face.
“It’s fine,” Conall soothed, giving us a wince. “It’ll be fine. If Sidorov is pissed, we can figure out another way to get at Markow. Sidorov isn’t an important player.”
We stood with car lights breaking up the darkness near the Hudson River in freezing weather, the wind blowing up a gale that swirled snow past our ankles. Sloan had dragged us here in his Hummer limo. He’d been quiet the entire ride to the meetup spot, and even now he hadn’t said a word, which was beyond unusual.
To his left were Jamie Shannon, the lieutenant of Illegal Operations in the Company, and Corbin. I didn’t know what Corbin’s job title was supposed to be, but he often killed people and rarely left Jamie’s side. Their faces were impeccably neutral, hands shoved into the pockets of their long winter coats. I didn’t know if they were here to murder us or not.
“It’s time for you to get into the limo, pet,” Sloan finally said as he turned his attention to Conall. “This could get dangerous.”
Conall raised his chin and smoothed his hand over Sloan’s chest. “I’m not going anywhere, and you can’t make me. I’m yours, Boss, and you made me sit out with the Italians. I’m not doing it this time, no matter how many spankings you give me in front of everyone. You’re mine, too.”
Sloan’s mouth quirked in a half smile and hope slid into me. Maybe he wouldn’t kill us for this fuckup. When he turned back toward us, though, his jaw tightened. “When Sidorov gets here, you won’t speak unless I tell you to. Not a fucking word.”
Conall grinned, and I thought it was because Sloan swore. It wasn’t often he did, but Conall usually teased him when something slipped out. The situation was too dire for him to do it now, but I didn’t miss the way he stared up at Sloan in amusement.
I stepped a little closer to Fallon. He stood tall, and I was proud of him. He hadn’t shown weakness.
Headlights flashed on us, and we turned to watch as three cars slowly drove over the snowy ground to stop near our group. The back door of the middle car opened and someone stepped out. It was too dark to see what he looked like until he stood in front of us, and the lights glowed around him. The man had dark blond hair—probably with a few grays mixed in—and an older, refined face. His skin was pale, and I couldn’t quite get a good look at his eyes from this position, but he was taller than me and wide.
“Killough.” He didn’t have an accent, to my surprise. “Pleasure as always.”
Behind him stood three other men as wide as him, their arms crossed and close to the opening of their jackets, where I was sure guns hid. Other men stood beside the cars but didn’t move any closer.
I checked on Cillian, and he already had his attention on me.
Sidorov glanced around at us. “Where’s my cousin?”
Sloan stepped forward until he and Sidorov were close, and everyone in the vicinity tensed. The air was thick with uncertainty, along with the disgusting smell from a fish warehouse not far from here. The bitter wind didn’t make the atmosphere any better.
“He’s dead,” Sloan said bluntly. “One of my men accidently killed him.”
Cillian twitched. I grabbed his elbow, and he shook off my hold with a glare.
Fallon’s presence was the only thing keeping me sane right now. He was so close I could smell his sweet cologne and feel the heat from his body. He’d been tough since the moment we called Sloan, and he deserved credit for it.
“Really?” Sidorov’s heavy stare moved around to us. “How did that happen?”
Sloan waved his hand at us.
Cillian spoke first. “He didn’t know he was going back to ye and spent last night cutting his ropes on a sharp piece of broken chair. He attacked me when I had my back turned, and I reacted on impulse. I stuck me knife into his neck.” Cillian cleared his throat. “He died instantly, or close enough.”
Silence filled the field we stood in, the only sounds coming from boat horns farther away. Finally, after what felt like forever, Sidorov smiled and began to laugh. The abrupt noise had me tensing, and I watched him carefully to search for any real anger, but there was nothing there. Sidorov was holding his gut as he leaned over to laugh harder, and by the time he was done, everyone was staring at him.
He wiped tears from his eyes. “Well, then, that’s done, isn’t it?Babushkawon’t be happy, but I did my part. I tried to save his life.”
“Is this going to affect our bargain?” Sloan asked, his voice deep and commanding. It was hard to fault his charisma, even when he was on alert.
“Hardly. I would have killed him if you hadn’t.” Sidorov shrugged. The lights gleamed on a scar of anXthat had been carved into the back of his hand as he ran it down his face. “He was a pain in my ass. You did my work for me.”
“Why did you want him home alive, then?” Sloan asked.
“Well, it would have been fun to see the life drain out of his eyes.” He laughed again and waved his hand at the man behind him, who stepped forward and handed him an envelope. Sidorov passed the package to Sloan, who opened it and flipped through a wad of cash. “For your troubles. Also, to show my allegiance to you, Sloan. I hate the Markows as much as you do. I hope we can continue working together.”
Sloan smirked. “I’m happy with that.”
Relief washed through me and I could finally relax. I smiled at Fallon, and he gave me a hesitant one back.
