“You gonna tell her before or after?”
“After,” I say flatly. “Can't have her trying to stop me.”
Cavin laughs, short and sharp. “Fair enough.”
“You’d do the same.”
“That I would.”
My hands are shaking now, the rage I've been keeping locked down threatening to surface. “So aye, he fucking deserves it.”
“Then let's make sure you're ready.” Cavin moves to the heavy bag and holds it steady. “Come on then. Show me what you've got.”
I don't hold back.
Every punch is Marcus Crowning's face. Every kick is six years of watching her, wanting her, and not being able to touch her. Every combination is the fury of knowing he had his hands on her, that he planned to hurt her, that he thought he could take what'smine.
“Christ, Ash.” Cavin grunts after a particularly vicious series. “Save some for the actual fight, yeah?”
I'm breathing hard, sweat dripping down my spine. “When?”
“How long you think it’ll take before we have what we need? Before he retaliates?”
“Week, maybe two, reckon.”
Two weeks. I can wait two weeks. I've waited six years for her.
“And the research?” Cavin asks. “What do you need?”
“Everything on Marcus Crowning. His movements, his men, his weaknesses. I want to know every place he's vulnerable, especially anything involving Francesca.”
“Already started.” Cavin pulls out his phone and scrolls through it. “Declan's been tracking him. He's got a pattern—seems he visits his accountant every Tuesday, then stops at the same coffee shop after. Alone.”
I frown. “Tuesday's too soon. Need more time to prepare.”
“So we watch him. Learn his habits. Make sure that when you face him, you know exactly how to break him.” Cavin's grin is sharp, feral. “This is what you're good at, cousin. This is who you are.”
Aye. This is who I am.
And Bianca, my sweet, innocent Bianca, with her bright eyes and soft smiles, is mine to protect, mine to keep.
And Marcus Crowning is a dead man walking.
“Come on,” I say, moving toward the ring in the corner. “Let's go another round. I need to be faster, stronger. Need to make sure when the time comes, I don't just beat him.”
“What then?”
“Idestroyhim.” I climb between the ropes, then raise my wrapped fists. “Completely.”
Cavin follows, bouncing on his toes. “That's what I like to hear.”
We spar for over an hour, and he lands a few good hits. Cavin's always been quick, but I'm driven by something beyond skill or training.
I'm driven byher.
Every time he connects, I think of Bianca's smile. Every time I block, I remember her laugh. Every time I land a devastating combination, I see her face when she called herself pretty, when she started to believe what I've known all along.
“Mercy, brother,” Cavin finally calls, breathing hard. “Christ, you're a machine today, and Seamus will finish us both off if we draw blood.”
