When I close the door behind me, I find Kieran leaning against the wall outside the room, his expression grave. He was the one who tried to wrestle Scout off me when I tried to leave, which landed him with an accidental hit to the jaw as my son fought his way back to me.
“I take it he’s asleep?” he asks.
It’s the most words Kieran has spoken to me in days. Ever since Fiona confessed to working with Lorcan, my relationship with my older brother has gone right back to square one.
“I wouldn’t be leaving if he wasn’t.”
“You don’t have to go, you know. Ronan offered to go with Brennan tonight.”
I shake my head. “Ronan’s picking up all the slack atSullivan Investments.”
“So? You know what a workaholic he is.”
“I’ll be back in a few hours. Call me if he wakes up.”
I walk away before the guilt can claw its way any deeper inside me, and I go running back to Scout.
Brennan is waiting by the car, leaning against the trunk and scrolling on his phone while the engine runs. “Sure you want to come?”
“No offense, little brother, but we need information. And you’re not exactly the most threatening.”
Brennan flashes his teeth. “Want to bet?”
I roll my eyes and jerk my head toward the car.
“Enough dicking around. We’ve got work to do.”
The gates slide closed behind us, and the estate quickly disappears in the rearview mirror, swallowed by darkness.
Neither of us talks.
I keep my attention on the road, and Brennan taps away on his phone as he checks in with various men who are on the lookout for Lorcan.
The city lights bleed into one another as we head toward Lorcan’s old territory in Hell’s Kitchen. The club we’re visiting tonight is one of his leftovers, a place he used to funnel cash through before he went underground and started coercing people like Fiona to do his dirty work. We haven’t been back in a while, so I figured it’s about time we pay them another visit.
Neon flickers above the entrance when we pull up outside, the bass vibrating through the pavement. A line curls around the corner, and one of the bouncers seems caught up in an argument with a woman who can barely stand upright.
“He really does like to pick the shitholes,” I mutter.
Brennan points to a side alley. “Go down the side. It’ll draw less attention.”
I notice the group of girls who have rallied to help their friend, each one as drunk as the next. “Trust me, we’re the least of their worries.”
I pull down the side alley and park.
It doesn’t take long for the emergency exit to open, and one of the bouncers appears. He’s as tall as he is wide, with every inch of exposed skin covered in tattoos.
But I don’t even blink. I’ve already faced my worst nightmare. My son was stolen right out from under me, so at this point, I’m not afraid of anything, oranyone.
“Get the money,” I order.
Brennan reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out the envelope of cash.
I reach for the button to roll down Brennan’s window as the bouncer approaches, but he immediately stiffens when he recognizes who is behind the wheel.
“Didn’t expect you tonight,” he grunts.
Brennan waves the envelope of cash like it’s a fucking dog treat. “We’re feeling nostalgic.”
