Rowen rolled his eyes. “What do ye hate about California? Ye’ve never even been there.”
“It’s the principle of the matter. While in America I’m a Yankee and the West Coast can kiss me lily-white arse.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as they stared each other down. Since Vail had come along, they’d gotten softer with each other. I didn’t think they’d noticed, but there wasn’t as much hostility between them. Even the glares Cillian aimed at Rowen weren’t as intense.
I sighed, staring back down the hallway and toward the room we’d left Fallon and Vail in. I hated leaving them in a situation like this, especially with the bomb Sloan dropped on Fallon, but I couldn’t completely disagree with the boss, either. Fallon had become reckless, and we hadn’t put a stop to it. We shouldn’t have let him come along. He’d been in acoma, and while someone like me and Cillian were hard to deter when a job needed to be done, Fallon was... gentler. His MMA experience aside, his entire personality reminded me more of Vail’s than ours.
“He’s gonna be fine,” Cillian grunted out.
Surprised, I glanced at him, and he shrugged.
“I’m not going to kick his lovely arse out on the street. He can stay with us. I agree with Sloan, though. This could’ve ended bad.”
Rowen frowned. “His diabetes has never been an issue.”
Cillian rolled his eyes. “The boy was in a coma a couple of weeks ago. He’s not healed, that shite can take a while.”
Rowen’s brows dipped low, and he sighed. “But ye can’t rule out that this time his diabetes did play a role. His pump was damaged, and he didn’t bring his pens—didn’t even check his wee pump. It was feckin’ stupid.”
“He’s young,” I snapped, glaring at Rowen. “That’s why we took him under our wing, to teach him.”
Cillian chuckled and patted my arm. “Calm down, big guy. Rowen’s got a point, he means no harm.”
“I won’t stand here and let you insult him,” I growled out in frustration and turned my back to them, walking a short distance down the hallway. “You didn’t see him up there. He’s a good fighter when it’s a fair fight.”
“Never said he wasn’t. He’s our slugger.” Cillian came up from behind and rested his hand on my shoulder, tightening his hold in comfort. “He’ll be all right, mate.”
I didn’t say anything else as Sloan appeared, thumping down another hallway that came from his bedroom. He gestured for us to accompany him, and I shook off Cillian’s hold as I followed Sloan down the right side of the split marble staircase that led to the foyer, then along a corridor to the left of the stairs decorated with upscale, original artwork.
When we entered Sloan’s office, he went straight to his chair behind his glossy wooden desk, while Cillian and I took the black leather chairs directly in front of him. Rowen stayed standing at Cillian’s side.
We kept our mouths shut—we’d done this numerous times before with Sloan and it was expected we wait until he spoke first. He sat there stroking his chin, a concerned expression twisting his face. His scar moved with the crinkle of his brow.
“If it was Reyes, I’ll slaughter him.”
Cillian nodded. “It had to be. That bastard’s been waiting for his chance to get us by the gonads.”
“And what a way to do it,” Rowen agreed in a low voice.
“I told Jamie to let Sidorov go,” Sloan said, throwing a leg over his knee and staring thoughtfully at his desk. “I’m satisfied it wasn’t him, but I’ll need to make reparations for the accusation.”
“He’s Russian, offer him a bit of money and he’ll be fine,” Cillian said with a snort of laughter.
Sloan nodded in agreement, finally raising his gaze. He stared at me. “Do you have something to say, Aspen?”
“Sir?” I asked quietly.
He tipped his chin up. “About relocating Fallon. I have eyes. I can see you were getting closer to him. Don’t make me repeat the question.”
I swallowed. It would be easy enough to bullshit to Sloan, but he was good at spotting liars—and I liked my fingers where they were. “He’s only learning, sir, and you haven’t given him a chance.”
He made a sound close to a snort, or as much of one as Sloan could muster. “I’m not kicking him out of the Company. He needs to heal. Putting him with Conall isn’t a punishment. Only men I trust can be my pet’s bodyguards.”
“I’m aware of that, Boss.” I sighed. “I’d prefer to watch him.”
“Yes, I’m sure you would, as I want to always keep an eye on Conall. It’s not possible.” He tapped his finger on the desk. “We must trust they know how to protect themselves as well.”
I nodded, ignoring the long look Cillian gave me out of the corner of his eye. “Yes, sir.”
