I set my glass down, internally scolding myself for getting wrapped up in domestic shit again.
“I’m assuming she lives around here?” I asked, although I knew. I had a file on Sophie, her late boyfriend,andJacqueline Madoc-Caldwell, Kristoff’s ex.
His fingers tightened around the beer bottle and then he lifted it, tilting his head back and emptying it.
“Yes, but not for long.”
“What do you mean?” Byron questioned.
Kristoff shrugged. “She’s leaving the States.”
“What about her job?” Byron questioned. “She has security over at General.”
Kristoff shrugged.
“She’s staying long enough to find a replacement, then taking a sabbatical.” At Byron’s dubious look, he continued. “I own the hospital. Whenever she’s ready, her job will be waiting for her.”
“Where is she going exactly?” I asked.
“Don’t know yet.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “She’s throwing a dart party. Where the dart lands… that’s her destination.”
“Fuck, aren’t you worried where she’ll land?” Alessio asked. “You should buy all the darts within a hundred-mile radius.”
“I considered that, but she already has them,” Kristoff grumbled,pushing his hand through his hair. “It’s all very unlike her. Ever since Jonathan died, she hasn’t been the same. Admittedly, I had my hands busy when everything happened with Sienna, but she seemed fine. Well, as fine as she could be after her boyfriend died, I guess.”
“Understandable,” I remarked, familiar with the story about Sienna.
She was Kristoff’s stepdaughter, who got caught in my half brother’s flesh auction web around the same time as Reina Romero. Apparently, on a dare, she hacked into my half brother’s account and wiped it clean.
Fuck, I would have paid good money to see my brother’s expression when he realized that. Damn cruel bastard deserved what was coming to him.
“You had a lot going on. Besides, it was a traumatic experience,” Byron retorted. “The crash and then Jonathan’s body disappearing without any evidence, only to reappear unrecognizable from the river?” He gave an audible shiver. “Did they identify him by his dental work?”
Kristoff shook his head. “No, his ex had to go identify the body.” Everyone winced. “You should have seen the theatrics. The woman could have been awarded an Oscar for that performance.”
“What if her dart lands in a war zone?” I questioned, circling back to the topic at hand. “It could be pricey.”
“Money is no object, but don’t worry, I’ve already told her if it does, she’s throwing again,” Kristoff retorted wryly. “Even if I have to lock her in her damn condo, she’s not going to a war zone.”
“Women are stubborn,” Alessio deadpanned, probably recalling his own wife.
“Don’t let your wife, or mine, hear you say that,” Byron said. “Or there’ll be hell to pay.”
I leaned back in my chair and considered what I just learned. It was obvious Kristoff was worried enough about his cousin, and Blackhawk needed something to keep them busy—aside from the client with the Black Oil Syndicate problems.
“Blackhawk can handle that,” I said. “She’ll never notice anyone tailing her.”
Kristoff exhaled, relief flickering before he smothered it. “I want itto be as discreet as possible. No interference unless something’s wrong.”
“Hopefully her dart doesn’t land in Albania,” Byron joked. “Kian doesn’t allow anyone there.”
I shook my head when a worry line appeared between Kristoff’s eyebrows. “If her dart lands in Albania, she’ll be safe. Once you have the details on where she’s going and when, send them over and she’ll be taken care of.”
Kristoff released a breath. “Thank you, Kian.”
I took a drink of my bourbon and tilted my head in acknowledgement. Selfishly, I hoped his cousin steered clear of Albania. I didn’t need yet another liability on my plate.
I scanned the bar, diverting from the topic. “You know what this place needs?”
