Paul didn’t miss a thing. A slow smile spread across his face. “You knew him well, didn’t you?”
With a heavy sigh, Isaac sat back in his chair. “You know I did. You probably also know that we didn’t part on the best of terms.” Their falling out had been nasty and very public. Had to be. “I haven’t seen or heard from Michael McKillan in over five years. Maybe more.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve lost count.”
Paul hummed, eyes narrowing as he looked at Isaac. “Also the perfect cover story. And what a coincidence that three of those fugitives found their way here when they needed help.”
Isaac snorted. “Not really. I was relatively close by. I’m an excellent surgeon and I had the facilities to treat them. Away from the public eye. I doubt the McKillan pack would’ve wanted that dirty laundry aired for all the packs to see.”
Paul considered that but looked anything but convinced. “I’m surprised you offered to help, considering your past with Michael.”
Isaac scoffed. “I’m not fucking stupid. No one would refuse to help a member of the McKillan pack unless they had a death wish.” As much as the thought grated, it was true. Michael had built a solid reputation for being ruthless.
It’s not the Michael I knew.
But it was the one Paul knew, and that’s what Isaac was relying on right now.
“I’d like to see these facilities of yours.” He stood as if Isaac’s agreement was a given.
Isaac took his time pushing up from his chair, then took both of their mugs over to the sink before turning back to Paul. “Follow me.”
