Page 23 of Cruel Debts (Killers of Port Wylde #4)

NINETEEN

TRINITY

"I can't believe he went to the club tonight and refused to take me!"

I perched on the fucking counter, fuming at the betrayal Hawke had just pulled on me. I mean, there was no love lost between us, but for fuck's sake, was there no honor among killers?

Apparently not.

Liam stood at the counter, washing an apple like the damn thing might poison him if he didn't. He didn't bother to turn around to answer me in the driest tone I'd ever heard from his mouth.

"You know, there's a reason he didn't take you, Trin."

"Well, it's not a good one, whatever it is," I groaned, throwing myself back on the counter like I'm preparing to serve myself for dinner. "Just fucking end me yourselves, you cowards, because staying cooped up in this place, day in and day out, is killing me."

"So dramatic," Asher drawled from the living room, his hands working on the shiny scalpel he's been polishing for ten minutes now. "He didn't take you because he's gotta work, and that means he won't have time to watch you."

"I don't need watched," I growled, but he had a point, and I knew it.

"Last time you were at the damn place, someone got stabbed, and the whole damn thing went to shit."

He had a point. "Okay, you're not wrong, but?—"

"And the likelihood of him being recognized alone is way lower than if he's got you with him." Liam threw in, taking a bite of his damn apple as he watched me cautiously.

I hated when Liam was right. I hated to be wrong. But I hated that he was right more.

"Just drop it, Pretty Bird," Asher mumbled, and though he thought I didn't hear the term of endearment, I'm pretty sure everyone in the room heard it.

And I was pretty sure Liam was not impressed.

Thankfully, he didn't have time to say anything about it, as his phone started ringing. He stepped out of the room to grab it, and when he came back, it was with a look of irritation on his face.

He held the phone out to me. "It's for you."

I raised my eyebrows in question, but he didn't say another word, just waited for me to take the damn thing from him.

I knew better than to take that phone. There was only one person in the world who probably knew where I was and with whom, let alone how to get in contact with them.

But I was stupid. And in a moment of weakness, a moment of wanting to hear another voice outside of this den of demon men, I answered with a chipper hello and was met with the wrath of my own mother.

"Trinity fucking McCoy, I want you home."

Oh, great.

"Mom," I started, but she ran right over me, just like she always did.

"No, girlie, I'm not having it. I want you home. We have things going on that require your presence, and you know this. We had plans. You have a future here that needs nurturing. Wyatt Pierce?—"

Oh no. Not her plans to marry me off again. "Mom, I told you, I'm not interested in becoming a Pierce so that Daddy can expand into the western market." If she'd stopped to listen to me once in the last three years, she'd have known that.

"If not him, then it'll be Dalstan." As if. James Dalstan was an abusive, neglectful, cheating piece of shit. "If not the boy, then the girl. I know you kids have rather questionable habits these days, but they're both good-looking. You could do worse, really."

Yeah, and their fortunes were split down the middle. It wouldn't matter to my mother and father which one I married, as long as the clout that came with it could be benefited from.

"Besides, dear. You've been in that hellhole long enough.

I'd have thought you'd let go of your silly little manhunt ideas by now, but apparently not.

" Her voice dropped, and I knew my father must've joined the conversation.

"It's time you put away your fancy little ideals and start accepting reality. "

"Keehn isn't dead, Mama. He's still out here somewhere.

I can feel it in my bones. I know it. I'm not giving up on him, even if the rest of you so-called family and friends have.

" I shot a pointed look in Liam's direction, but he clearly wasn't phased by the dig, if his interest in his fingernails was any indication.

"I'm not leaving here until I find him."

"You can't leave here now, regardless," Asher reminded me, setting his scalpel down to move to a pair of hemostats covered in suspicious red flecks. "Remember? Killer on the loose, assassination attempt?"

Liam groaned as I lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh, right. I can't come home now, Mom. Someone is attempting to kill me every time I step out of this compound. I'm safest right now in this apartment with the guys."

"I'm not a fan of you living with three grown men, either, young lady," my father chimed in, his voice heavy, with an edge of frustration to it. "We haven't seen them since?—"

"Yeah, yeah, since Keehn went off to war, right, I get it. But really, are you saying you don't trust the men you hired to come find me in the first place?"

Liam's brow quirked as he listened in, his interest piqued now.

"It's not them that we don't trust, young lady." My father didn't want to say it. To him, I was still his little angel, though he knew I had my quirks.

My mother held no such reserve. "It's you that's untrustworthy, missy. With your habit of doing the exact opposite of what you're told, and your tendency to run off and do stupid things half-cocked when you get a wild hair up your ass?—"

"Listen," I huffed, gripping the phone tighter with every second.

"I'm going to say this one more time. I'm here for Keehn.

When I find him, I'll bring him home, and you can roll out the red carpet, and I'll try not to say I told you so too much.

And then I'll do whatever it is you fucking want of me.

I'll let you marry me off and play the doting little housewife while my future husband and meal ticket creeps around town collecting floozies and STDs, and I sit at home and raise his hellspawn.

You can reap the benefits of my prosperous family ties, and Keehn can inherit the company when you retire.

Everyone's happy in that scenario." I take a deep breath as my mother gears up to interject and run her over this time.

"Until then, I want you to please refrain from calling me, sending me letters, emailing me, or sending vague threats by carrier pigeon.

Because I'm no longer interested in entertaining your plans until I see mine through. "

My father sputters on the other end of the line, but my mother doesn't miss a beat. "If you let those heathen boys ruin you, Trinity McCoy, so help me?—"

"Mama, I hate to tell you this, but Johnny Falstaff ruined me in the tenth grade, when he stuck his floppy dick between my legs and tried to convince me he knew how to fuck. Compared to that, these guys are as honorable as Prince fucking Charming." Unfortunately.

I flicked the button to end the call and tossed the phone back to Liam, who barely managed to catch it before it fell to the floor at his feet.

"What gives, Trin? That's an expensive phone?—"

"Next time my parents call you, Liam, maybe do us both a favor and don't bother bringing them to me.

" I marched right into the living room area and ploped down on the couch next to Asher, who looked like he'd rather chew glass than have me this close while he sharpened and polished pointy objects. "Can I help with anything, Asher?"

"Like I'm stupid enough to hand you sharp objects when you're in a mood like this."

"Ugh, fine," I groaned, sweeping the pillows off the end of the couch with a flourish. If they didn't wanna play along, then I could just make it easy and annoy them with my presence until they got tired of me.

It shouldn't take too long.

About half an hour later, Asher and Liam ganged up on me, the former carefully putting away his tools before he unceremoniously dumped me off the couch and told me to get lost, in not-so-many words.

Okay, so in exactly that many words.

"Listen, we have to talk alone." He pointed between him and Liam, as if there was any question who the we was. "Him and I."

"I don't understand," I said, trying to pull off the dumb blonde persona, like I used to give to the guys when they were too forward with me. "Why do I have to leave?"

"Because this conversation doesn't concern you, pretty bird," he said with a frown. He used that nickname more and more for me now, and I didn't know how to take that. Was it him growing on me? Was it me growing on him? Or was it just knee-jerk, like the old days?

He pointed to my room, and I sighed heavily, determined to make him let me stay. "I'm not going anywhere," I declared loudly, staring at his hand like he was the one hallucinating. "Put that finger away before I gnaw it off."

"She will, too," Liam said with a chuckle. "She's half animal."

"I didn't want to do this the hard way," Asher said as he stood up, towering over me. "Get up, Trinity."

Uh-oh. I knew that look in his eyes. I was in trouble. "Not on your life."

"Suit yourself."

He leaned over, tossing me easily over his shoulder with a grunt.

I squealed and shouted, but he just held me tighter, marching right for the bedroom door he unceremoniously kicked open as he waltzed into the room.

He tossed me on my bed before I could think to respond, and then with a flourish of his own, he slammed the door shut—and locked it from the outside.

I didn't even know he could do that.

No amount of me beating on the damn door resulted in him letting me out, so I settled in, pressing my ear to the door in the hopes I could still hear through the damn thing and pick up on the things they didn't want me to know.

At first, it was so quiet that I couldn't accurately make out the words. But once they assumed they were safe, that I'd given up, they grew bolder, their words clearer. I could hear a third voice, which I assumed was Hawke, on what had to be speakerphone, joining the conversation.

No wonder they had to get louder. If he were already at the club, he'd have a hard time hearing them at all if they didn't yell.

"We need to drag Mistwood back into this, see what he can dig up," Liam growled, his voice low. "If he wants to keep his head, he'll do what we tell him."

"Mistwood is getting antsy, reluctant to help us as much anymore," Asher said with a huff. "Can we really still trust him like we used to?"

Hawke's voice on the phone was loudest, probably because he had no idea he was shouting.

"If he wants to keep using Keehn's good name to make a life for himself in that police precinct, then he'll do what we want and shut his piehole about it.

One word from us, and his whole little life falls apart at the seams."

"What if she's right?" Asher said suddenly, his voice quieter than before. "What if he is still out here somewhere? What if we didn't look hard enough?"

"He would have found us by now, you idiot," Liam snapped, his voice on edge. "It's Tank we're talking about. He's not stupid. If he could get to us, he would find a way. And it's been years. He's not coming back."

We'd see about that.

"Well, then, I suppose it's time to call Mistwood and have him do some digging into the staff at the club. Someone's gotta know why new girls are going missing, and where they're going."

Girls were going missing at the club? Was it connected to my situation?

"The sooner we deal with this, the sooner we can end this contract and get back to the important jobs.

" Asher sighed, the weight of the whole situation like a physical entity on his shoulders.

"We have put everything on hold to make sure Trinity stays safe, and St. Clair will start getting irritated sooner rather than later.

Her good humor toward Minnie will only extend for so long. "

It was ironic how they could discuss my well-being so casually, like it was a discussion on what to have for dinner.

The good stuff was over. I had what I needed now.

They knew about the fake Keehn. Not only did they know, they were using him, and their knowledge over him, to reach areas their filthy, dirty hands might not otherwise easily reach.

With a contact in the police department, they were beyond powerful. They were unstoppable.

And they weren't above blackmail to get things done.

Well, if blackmail was good enough for them, then it was good enough for me.

While they continued to discuss the future among themselves, as if it didn't concern me at all, I moved to the bed, yanking out the little notebook I'd repurposed into an escape plan journal from under the mattress. With renewed fervor, I set to work outlining my plans again.

If they weren't going to help me find Keehn, then I'd do it my damn self. And to hell with them and their plans for my future. I could handle a little danger. I'd been on these streets for weeks on my own and was doing just fine before they came along.

I could handle myself, dammit.

Keehn was out there. I wouldn't give up on him. And when I found him, there'd be no confusion who was loyal to him, and who was not.

My brother was my life. And I was his. And soon enough, I'd find out what happened to him. One way or another.