Page 110 of Ravaged Soul

“Warner Mead told me to leave, so I left. That’s all.”

“You got caught with your pants down,” Raye lectures. “Big deal. Ice your fucking face, strap on a pair, and get back out there. We made this deal for a reason, or have you forgotten?”

“I’ve forgotten nothing.”

“Then step up. We have to find Nolan.”

“Agreed,” Spyder chimes in. “Before he decides to wipe out the last of his abandoned operation and kill us all while he’s at it.”

“You included.” Raye motions to me.

“I know what’s at stake!” I shout in exasperation.

“Then what are we doing here, wasting time?”

Without an answer to give, I resist the urge to scream at my two foot soldiers. Lord knows that loyalty is hard to comeby these days. Instead, the beer bottle sails from my hand, smashing against the warehouse wall and scattering across the stained concrete.

Neither speaks when I stalk off to ascend the rattly staircase leading to my mezzanine office. Once safely inside, I let my frustration boil over to escape in a violent expulsion. Better this than actually killing one of my people.

The threadbare armchairs crash onto the floor where I tip them over. Paperwork scatters as I toss boxes across the room in a fit of rage. Screwed up shipping documents and receipts are upended from overflowing bins. Nothing escapes my furious whirlwind.

“Goddammit!” I scream. “Fuck!”

What an utter disaster.

This was not the plan.

Find the girl, rescue her, drop our prized bargaining chip into Sabre’s lap. Reap the fucking rewards. Simple, right? Calculated. This was supposed to be our road to eliminating my father for good and clearing my name along the way.

Now we’re almost a year into this disaster, no closer to mounting my father’s head on a stake, and I’m standing here obsessing about what that slip of a woman is doing right now without my lips on hers.

Thanks to Warner fuckin’ Mead, I’m here.

Losing my goddamn mind.

If that straight-laced piece of shit thinks he can toss me out like I didn’t just deliver their best lead to them, he’s got another thing coming. Ember is entitled to be with whomever she likes. Warner’s lucky I didn’t put a bullet between his eyes.

Chest heaving, I dig around in my desk drawer until I locate a rolled joint from the wooden box I keep stashed. A woodsy fragrance curls from the tip when I spark up, taking the smoke deep into my lungs.

If I were a smarter man, I’d cut my losses. Pack up shop. We have connections across the UK and beyond. It would be easy enough to relocate our operations, leave this sordid city and all its bad memories behind for the wolves to tear apart.

Yet the idea of never again looking into Ember’s fierce, blue-grey eyes fills me with dread. Never seeing her carved, scar-stippled muscles. Each luscious curve and tempting angle. The way her gaze narrows in anger when she unveils the beast writhing beneath her skin.

She deserves justice.

I want to be the one to give it to her.

It has to be me.

Smoke pours from my nostrils as my head bows, the suffocating weight of an entire dynasty crushing my bones into worthless dust. Everything I’ve done has been for the family business. Now it feels like I’m salvaging the remains of a corpse.

“Food for thought?”

My spine lengthens, steeling with tension. “You’re not welcome here.”

Heavy thuds mark the big bastard’s entrance into my office. I don’t startle or even turn to face Hyland Wesson. My people wouldn’t have allowed him up here if he were armed.

“Why give us this location if you didn’t want us to find you?”