“Fuck,” Julian says, rubbing his hand over his face.
“That’s about all she’s said about him. I know it’s too soon to pry for more, but this asshole needs to be killed. Not just stopped.”
“We have eyes on his bird in Denver,” Julian says. “And he pissed off every fucking head in the country last night.”
Christ, that feels like ages ago.
“He won’t be able to make moves without someone hearing about it,” Rome agrees. “And thenwe’llhear about it.”
I nod and push my hand through my hair. I didn’t get any sleep last night. I missed having my wife with me, and I’m fucking worried about her.
I avoided feelings for most of my life, and now I’m having all of them, and it’s fucking me up.
She looked exhausted when I left. I doubt she slept either. I know she’s worried about Rose, and I need this asshole dead.
“Do we know who the motherfucking mole is?” Rome asks.
“Not yet,” I reply, and the others shake their head. “But when we find him, he’ll wish he were never born.”
“Cillian’s pissed that he wasn’t in on the raid last night.” Carson says.
I scowl and then turn around, marching out of the office.
“Where are you going?” Julian calls out.
“To see Cillian.”
Diego drives me to the Four Leaf and sends me glances, but I ignore him.
“Starting a war with the Irish isn’t going to fix anything,” he says.
“I’m not starting a war, I’m having a conversation.”
“You’re spoiling for a fight, and nothing good can come from that today.”
Yeah, I want to fight. I want to punch someone until they’re a bloody heap. I hate that my savage is hurting right now and there’s nothing I can do about it.
In fact, I call her, and she answers on the second ring.
“Hey,” she says.
“I’m just checking on you.”
She’s quiet for a second. “I feel like I should check onyou. I don’t like the sound of your voice. Are you okay?”
“You first.”
She sighs. “Yeah, I’m good. She’s napping here on the couch, and I’m making some soup. I’m not the best cook in the world, but I don’t know what else to do with myself. She showed me the fucking tattoo they put on her, and I want to destroy something.”
I narrow my eyes. “What is it?”
“They put a fucking ‘X’ on the back of her neck, Mateo. We’ll cover it up, obviously, but Jesus fucking Christ.”
“I know. I know, Savage. If you hate to cook, I’ll hire a chef.”
“Right now I can cut some shit, and that feels pretty damn good, so I’m okay.”
“Don’t cutyourself.”
