We all stare at it, tension thick. It feels like it might start ticking.
“He wouldn’t put a bomb in it, right?” Kian mutters as Connor steps back.
Then Doyle rushes in. “My phone.”
We all exhale.
Doyle talks in a rush, trying to get the words out before Flanaghan notices. “He’s gone off the deep end. Power hungry. His wife left; the kids are gone. He’s unhinged, and I’m not going down with him.” He flinches when Declan steps closer.
Then his gaze snaps to me. “I didn’t know about the hit until after. If I had, I would’ve warned you. I swear.”
I study his face. Fear sits raw in his eyes. Not guilt. Fear.
“Tomorrow you stay inside with Kian and Connor,” Declan says, stepping back and giving Doyle space.
Doyle nods. “But John—”
“I’ll handle him.” Declan’s voice leaves no room for doubt.
“Do you have any details for tomorrow?” I ask. My stance shifts, muscles braced, preparing already.
“No. I’ll try to get more. He trusts me, but he keeps everything close. It’s getting harder to hear anything.” He glances toward the door. “I need to go, or he’ll get suspicious.”
Kian moves fast, pulling a burner from a drawer. “Use this. Text when you get something.”
Doyle nods, pockets the phone, and bolts.
“Good job, kid,” Declan calls after him.
Doyle throws a final nod and disappears through the front door.
“Fucking hell.” Declan drags a hand through his hair. “Just what I need. Russians here while there’s a war inside the Consortium.”
I step in close and clap a hand on his back, my grip solid. “Now we know. Now we can do something.”
Declan eyes me, a slow, knowing smirk forming. “You have a plan, don’t you?”
“I do.” I step back, rolling my shoulders as the idea sharpens into place. “Let’s give John Flanaghan exactly what he wants.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Autumn
“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice rolls through the room, rough, low, deep enough to thrum in my ribs. I shoot up from the chair anyway and grab more ice.
“Shh. Don’t talk.” I press a cube to Kaden’s swollen lip, and he closes his eyes like the cold actually hurts less than speaking.
“I don’t need—” he tries, but I shove the cube into his mouth before he finishes.
“You better let her do her thing, or she’ll choke you with those cubes, mate,” Flynn says from the doorway, amusement dripping from his voice.
Kaden glares at him around the ice.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I should’ve moved faster—”
Flynn strides in, that usual controlled force behind each step, and leans over him. “You took me out of the way and got shot with a bullet meant for me.” Flynn grabs Kaden’s hand with a hard squeeze. “I owe you my life, brother.”
My eyes sting immediately. I sniff loudly. Both men look at me.
