“Good. I’m choosing the location.”
“Of course.”
I grabbed my phone and texted him the address to Money’s farmhouse. It wasn’t my usual meeting spot, but it was familiar, off the grid, and I knew it was secure. Me and Hana had some shit to address, and I wasn’t tryna do it over dinner.
“Tell her to be there by 8:00 p.m.”
Jack lifted his glass in acknowledgment.
Let her come.
Let her see for herself what our father had left in his wake.
I didn’t know how I expected to feel when I finally laid eyes on Hana for the first time. Honestly, I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I had a sister at all.
There were no anxious flutters. No knotsin my stomach. Just… nothing. I was unnervingly calm, and I couldn’t tell if that meant I was numb to the whole thing or if it hadn’t hit me yet.
“Still can’t believe you volunteered my shit without asking,” Cash muttered as he checked his gun for the umpteenth time.
We were in the office upstairs—one of the only parts of the farmhouse that didn’t look like a serial killer’s playground. The bright fluorescent lights gave the white room a clinical feel, a complete 180 from Cash’s office in midtown. Through the reinforced windows, we had a clear view of the floor below.
It was the first time I’d been back here since the night Cash beat a man to death in front of everyone. The memory of that day lived in the walls of this place along with every other person who’d been brought here by Cash or Jelani who needed to pay for their sins.
“I think they’re here,” Slim said, tapping one of the monitors.
I glanced up at the screen. Sure enough, a black Suburban was crawling up the gravel drive.
I sucked in a breath, feeling my stomach tighten. “Let’s get this over with.”
They followed me downstairs and waited at the entrance where the door was already open.
Jack stepped out first and straightened his jacket. Another guard opened the rear door and there she was.
Hana looked like she was used to drawing attention. Her jet black hair was pulled up into a bun, and she wore similar attire to me—tight black leather leggings, black combat boots, and a leather coat with a fur trim.
Her face was familiar and foreign all at once. I saw Sterling’s eyes, the shape of her mouth which was also his. And mine.
I stared as she, Jack, and the guard made their way toward the entrance.
She scanned the space, assessing the farmhouse no doubt. Her gaze finally landed on me as we stood a few feet apart.
I held her stare, waiting for the other to say something, to make the first move.
Hana’s posture was composed, but not stiff. She tilted her head slightly, like she was cataloging everything about me in real time.
And for some reason that pissed me off.
I crossed the space between us in two strides and punched her right across the jaw.
She stumbled as her hand flew to her face, eyes wide but not surprised. She caught herself and lunged for me.
Her elbow hit my face and then I felt her shove me hard in the chest. I caught her wrist and twisted it, forcing her back into a wall. She grunted as she slammed against it and kneed me in the stomach. I staggered back, sucking in air before crying out and going for her again. We grappled and fought.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw Jack try to move but Fontaine cocked his gun at him.
“Let them handle it,” he warned, voice low.
Hana got a solid hit to my ribs. I grunted and shoved her off. She came at me again, but I ducked and caught her in a headlock. She twisted, throwing us both off balance so we fell on the floor.
