“With her friend where?” Mav presses.
“They went out. To a speakeasy.”
“That tracks.” Mav snorts.
I slam the brakes hard.
“I don’t know what the fuck you two are insinuating,” I snarl, “but?—”
“There’s been rumors that they were seen together,” Baron cuts in. “That’s all.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t know who they’re hearing it from or where, but I will get to the bottom of it. Like every other fire in my life, I will put it out.
And when I do, people will learn just how different things are going to be when I ampakhan.
After circling all the places Tristan would usually hang around—empty lots where they tailgate and the warehouse they work out at—I pull up to one of the bars in their territory.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Baron asks as I undo my seatbelt. Maverick is already halfway out the door.
“His brothers’ cars are here. So he most likely is too.”
“I doubt we will be able to get in the door.” Baron nods over at the beast of a man in black guarding the front of the building like a pitbull.
“Which is why we are going in the back.”
I get out. Baron reluctantly follows.
We make our way down the alley where people are hanging out, drinking, smoking, practically banging against the brick wall. Everyone is staring. Everyone knows who we are. If Tristan is in there, it’s only a matter of time before someone tells him we are coming.
And I don’t give a shit.
The back door opens as two girls are leaving. One of them holds it open for us with her ass as she lights a cigarette. She smiles at me, blowing smoke in my face as I go.
I ignore her and walk inside. Baron thanks her and Mav says something dirty to her. I snap my fingers and he keeps walking. It’s not the time and this is very much not the place.
We make our way down the hall. It’s a seedy night club kind of joint, not a place the Bratvagoes to strut status. More like a place they go where the drinks will be free if they pay for the girls.
As we come to the opening, I stop. My head slowly pivots to scan the room. The place is crawling with people, including guys I’ve seen Tristan hanging around with. But no Tristan.
“Yury and Daniil,” Baron says over the pounding bass. “Two o’clock.”
Bingo.
Even if he’s not here, his brothers will know where I can find him.
We shove our way through the crowd, pissing people off as we go. But they’re too drunk to do anything about it, so everyone moves on their own account.
Tristan’s brothers are sitting across from each other in a booth, each of them holding a girl.
I stop in front of the table and point at each of the girls, then motion for them to get lost. They move without hesitation, and the boys look annoyed.
Until they see my face.
“He’s not here,” Daniil goes first.
“Where is he?” I demand.
“He didn’t say,” Yury answers. He takes a sip of his beer and refuses to look at me.
