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Story: Duncan

His name and a number were all that appeared on it.

I returned my gaze to his, and his hand lifted to graze my cheek. “Call me,mo bandia.”

With a light kiss on my forehead, he left and hurried down the street in the direction the others went.

I stood paralyzed, watching him walk away.

Pedestrians brushed past me on either side, passing in both directions. No one noticed me as I bit my lip and thought about my options.

Lucille had told me the man the universe had chosen for me would be at Mardi Gras. But there were six weeks between today and Mardi Gras. A lot could happen in six weeks. Like maybe one last fling with a handsome man before I locked myself down to the man I was supposed to be with.

As I twirled the business card between my fingers, I considered what I could gain and what I could lose by calling the number and having dinner with this man.

Was it really cheating if I was still technically single? I hadn’t even met the man the universe had chosen for me, and if I didn’t have Lucille, I wouldn’t even know I was about to meet him.

Life was a series of steps. And every step brought us further on our path. Decision made, I placed the card in my pocket and walked home. I had a dinner to get ready for.

Chapter Seven

Duncan

What were the odds that we would be back in New York City chasing down that son of a bitch Tyran, and the woman I couldn’t get off my mind would once again fall into my arms?

Dammit!

I still didn’t get her name. God, I hoped she called me. I wanted to take her to dinner, then take her to bed.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Cian asked when I finally caught up to them.

“I stopped to help the woman that asshole knocked over. Figured you two were hot on his trail. Where the hell is he?”

“Disappeared.”

I looked at Mac, my face showing my disappointment, no doubt. How exactly did a six-foot-four, three-hundred-and-twenty-pound man simply disappear?

“He had to have help,” I said, mostly to myself. “Someone in this fuckin’ city is helping him.”

The three of us stood on the sidewalk. Mac and Cian watched me, waiting for direction. The plan had always been to detain Tyran when we found him. Bring him back to Boston and let Sal have him.

We had to consider that he was smarter than we all assumed. He wasn’t just the brawn. Tyran had at least a little bit of brain matter that worked. It had been a month since he disappeared when we were in Nebraska.

Somehow, he had gotten out of Diamond Creek, come home to Boston, killed the Krueger brothers and hidden from us. Fury almost had him when he and his wife found him at the brownstone. All hell had broken loose after that.

Between Carly’s abduction and torture, then the Harbor building blowing sky high, New York City was more of a shithole than ever.

I looked around at where we were. The Soulless Sinners’ clubhouse wasn’t far. No way would they help him, though. Sal had made it clear to Fury that Tyran was persona non grata. If he came in contact with him, he’d been instructed to shoot him.

Maim, not kill.

Sal wanted the honors. And after the betrayal Tyran had committed, one we still didn’t know the full details of, Sal deserved that right.

As the boss, he tried to keep his hands relatively clean from most of the shit we did. He already had a violent record from when he lost his shit after Darcy disappeared. Cian and Mac never experienced the full effect of that.

If they had, they wouldn’t question why I kept details from Sal until I had something concrete.

No, we had men to take care of the heavy shit. Reapers to take people out. Mechanics to fix the things that needed ‘repair’. And of course, cleaners to clean up shit.

“I’m staying in the city tonight. You two head back and get a few guys lined up to come back with you tomorrow. I want you to bring Liam, Aidan, and Oscar, as well as six to eight more. We will scour this city and find out who is helping that bastard.”