“Depends how you look at it. More like I’ve got a female thorn in my side.”
He cocks a brow. “Woman troubles?”
“Not the kindyou’re thinking.”
Lochlan’s scrutinizing expression only deepens.
Doris circles back before he can ask what I mean. I tell her I’ll just have some of the burned black coffee and let her wander off again once she’s poured a cup.
“There’s a girl,” I start cryptically. “New server at the Banshee.”
“Heard about that,” he says. “Teagan told me she sucks at remembering orders.”
“That’s the least of her problems. Forgot my keys at the pub last night, and when I returned, I found three Bratva fucks attacking her.”
“The Bratva? At the Banshee after hours?”
“Right, sounds batshit. But then I realized who she was. You’ve probably heard the story on the news—the women who escaped the Vodka Room—turns out, she’s one of them.”
Lochlan nods, piecing together the rest on his own. “Jhene Prince?”
“That’s the one.”
“Chantal knows her. Or at least knowsofher. When the deal was going down between my crew and the Bratva, she saw her in the cages. I tossed the key over that she probably used to free herself… and the others.”
I file that information away for later. “Looks like the Bratva’s hunting her. But the girl refuses to go to the cops ’cuz she thinks half of them are on Fedorov’s payroll.”
“She’s probably right.”
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t help me figure out what to do with her.” I scrub a hand over my face, frustration thickening in my chest. “I’m an asshole, but even I can’t let the girl get snatched by the Russians. But I’m no babysitter either. I sure as shit can’t bother Ronanwith this while he’s off honeymooning with Simone.”
Lochlan takes a slow sip of his coffee, considering what I’ve said. “Probably shouldn’t keep her against her will.”
“I’m not keeping her against her will. I’m... strongly encouraging her to stay put ’til I figure out a solution.”
A vague crooked grin appears on the elder Callahan son’s face. “Strongly encouraging her to stay put. Sounds a lot like a polite way to say you’re keeping her against her will.”
“You’d know better than anyone about that, wouldn’t you?”
“Which is why you should take my word for it. It never goes the way you think it will.”
“Fall for the captive?” I scoff. “That’s never gonna happen, Loch.”
His vague grin deepens. “I didn’t think so either. She try to stab you yet?”
“The fuck were you and Chantal getting up to?”
“Listen, you fucking asshat,” he says, amusement in his tone. “The point is you’ll have to get creative with your solution.”
“How creative? The girl won’t cooperate.”
“Bring her upstate.”
“What?”
“To the estate. Me and Chantal are still renovating, but there’s plenty of room. Chantal would probably love to have her. She’d probably treat it as a pet project. You know how she is—always wanting to fix broken things.”
I consider it for a moment. It’s not a terrible idea. The estate is remote, well-protected, and far from Bratva territory.
