“I will accept the invitation,” he smirks.
“Flynn.” Declan nods, and when I turn, Doyle is walking in.
We kept him out of this, didn’t tell him the plan, had Liam keep him away in case things went south. He’s a good kid. Loyal. If he keeps going like this, he’ll be an important part of the Consortium one day.
“I need to call the Keeffes,” Declan sighs.
I nod. “Christian’s going to lose his shit.”
“Can I help with anything?” Doyle asks as I pull my burner out.
Nothing. No signal.
“Anyone got service?” I ask.
Everyone shakes their head.
Great.
“Doyle,” I call, and he turns. “Go to Declan’s. Tell Autumn and Viviana it’s done, and we’ll be back by sunrise, and tell Kaden to meet us at the Keeffe’s mansion.”
“Of course, sir,” Doyle says.
Everyone barks out a laugh. He freezes, confused.
“Flynn or Brady, never sir, mate.” I clap his shoulder and wink.
He laughs awkwardly and hurries out.
“I have a feeling he thought I was about to shoot him,” Liam mutters.
“Probably,” Declan shrugs.
Now we get to the Keeffes, and then I go home, to my wife, so I can bury myself in her and forget this fucking mess.
“Flynn,” Declan calls, and I fall into step beside him.
“Good job, brother.”
I grin. “Don’t tell me you had doubts.”
“That fucking drug…” Kian groans behind us. “Never again.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Flynn
“Fuck,” Christian breathes, eyes blown wide, arms locked around Declan like he’s checking he’s solid.
Tiernan just stands there, frozen, mouth half open, like the world tilted and he hasn’t caught up yet.
“We saw the blood—” Christian starts, voice cracking.
Declan steps back, grinning, and I haul Christian into a hug next. He laughs against my shoulder, the sound rough.
Christian pulls away, blinking fast. “We struck a deal with Rurik before they even rolled up,” I explain, clapping him on the back. “Fake rounds, blood bags under the shirts.”
They stare at me like I just spoke Latin.
