Rafe raises a brow. “You want to stab something, maybe kill someone?”
“Both,” I say immediately.
“Good,” he mutters. “We’re aligned.”
I grab a bottle off the table, twist the cap, and take a long pull without tasting it.
“Anything on Connor?” I ask.
Vin scrolls. “We picked up some noise through Providence. One of his runners missed a payment window. Might be sloppy. Might be bait.”
“Let’s see if we can bring him in,” I say.
Rafe tilts his head. “Alive?”
I consider it. “Preferably,” I answer. “But I’m flexible.”
Rafe studies me. “Something else bothering you?” He lifts his brow, and I glare at him. Like the idiot that he is, he doesn’t look away.
One day, I might kill this motherfucker, but it won’t be today. I like him too much.
I turn back to the table and grab a knife. “Vin, out. I want to speak to Rafe alone.”
Vin looks at me, then at the blade in my hand. He thinks his friend is about to die, but is smart enough not to object, choosing to scurry out of the room instead.
Once we are alone, I look at Rafe. “She smiled.”
Rafe blinks. “Who? I’m confused.”
I drag the blade across the tabletop once. “She smiled,” I repeat, “at one of my guards.”
“Oh.” Rafe sighs. “You let her get under your skin.”
“I didn’t let her do shit,” I snap.
“Sure, buddy,” he deadpans. “Not sure what you want me to do. You married her.” Rafe folds his arms. “You going to punish the guard?”
“I threatened him.”
“You threatened him, but did you punish him?” he says flatly.
I glare.
“Exactly. That’s not punishment.”
I bare my teeth. “Careful.”
He doesn’t back down. “Interesting how you don’t spiral over territory. Yet you’re spiraling over a guard.”
I slam the knife into the table, and the wood cracks. Rafe doesn’t even flinch. The silence in the room stretches thick and heavy.
Finally, I straighten. “Find me Patricks location.”
“I said I’m on it.”
“Work harder,” I snap. “I want an address asap.”
Rafe nods once. “And when we find him?”
