Eventually we got out, then walked together to the front door, which opened before we could touch it. Mr. Hopper glared outside behind us, but when I glanced over my shoulder there wasn’t anything there.
“Are you well?” he asked, and I blinked at him because I was pretty sure the old man had never said a single word to me. He looked the same as usual in his black suit with his gray hair combed straight back. I kind of wanted to ask him if he was drunk.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Why?”
“You look injured.” He scanned my body, and I felt a little weird about it.
My face burned as I glanced down at my filthy suit.
“It’s not his blood,” Rowen said, nodding at Mr. Hopper. “Thank ye.”
We stopped not far inside the door and stared at the chaos. Four men missing their suit jackets, with their shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows, brought white cardboard boxes out from the hallway to the left. They added the containers to a mountain of boxes in the middle of the shiny white marble floor.
“What the bloody feck?” Rowen grumbled.
I ran my fingers through his beard because he sounded so stressed out, and he shot me a tiny smile.
Conall strode from the direction of the office and his mouth was in a firm line. His eyes were too wide as he rushed out, cradling his cast to his chest. His dark hair swayed around his face, and it was frizzy in a way I’d never seen, like maybe he’d been tugging on it.
I hustled over to him. “How are you?”
Conall groaned and threaded his fingers through the hair on the back of his head. “Bad. No! I want all this shit in the bunker Sloan has set up.” His words were rough, like maybe he’d been yelling at people. “And the very second we’re done, all those fucking orchids need to go back where they belong.”
Shaking off my exhaustion, I nodded. “Where is it?”
He sighed and closed his eyes, taking shallow breaths. “Under the greenhouse. There’s a section for exotic plants, and I already moved everything out of the way to get to the door in the floor. We gotta hide this shit.”
Rowen paced over to stand near Conall. “He didn’t need to know the location. The fewer who do, the better.”
“Do you want to tell me what I should be doing, too, Rowen?” Conall snapped his eyes open and glared. I was surprised by the bite in his tone.
Rowen’s jaw tensed and he shrugged. “I do, actually. The boss told me to look out for ye and make sure ye’re safe.”
Some of the irritation faded from Conall’s expression and he pursed his lips. “I’m aware of what needs to happen.”
Rowen nodded. “I’ll help.”
“Tell us what to do,” I said, going for a goofy salute, but Conall barely cracked a smile.
He gave Rowen a long look. “Everyone helping knows about that hidey-hole now.” He rested a hand over his eyes. “Sloan is being interrogated by the police. He’s not technically under arrest yet, but he’s sure it’s coming. I agree. But maybe not? Who the fuck knows.”
“It’s smart to clear out anything incriminating,” Rowen said, staring at the growing pile as Ronan carried two more boxes down the left side of the split staircase. Sweat made his pale blond hair darker and his hardened face gleamed with droplets, so he must’ve been doing this for a while.
Conall crossed his arms and glared at the boxes.
“What about guns?” I asked.
“What?” Conall scowled in my direction. “Guns are legal. This is America. You were born here. You know that.” He glanced at Rowen. “Are you sure you two didn’t switch brains?”
I grinned. “Yeah, but are all the guns here legal? Or clean? You know, they haven’t been used to shoot anyone? My dad and brothers all have hidden gun safes, and that was one thing my dad told me on repeat when I was sent to train with the guys. I can carry a gun, but if I think I’m going to run into any police, I need to make sure it isn’t one I would need to worry about anyone taking and testing.”
“Aye, that’s a good point,” Rowen murmured.
Conall’s mouth fell open. “Fuck. I didn’t think about that. Damn it. Another fucking thing to worry about.” Ronan came back carrying two more boxes, and Conall snagged his elbow. “Spread the word. The cops will probably be here sooner rather than later. Make sure no one is carrying questionable weapons. Anything we shouldn’t have needs to be hidden, too.”
With a sigh, Rowen held out his hand.
“What?” I asked, glancing down at his palm.
