Page 12

12

LOCHLAN

I leave Evie’s apartment with my body still humming with the feel of her skin under mine, the heat of the moment still clinging to me. I don’t let myself linger in the aftermath, though. There’s no time to be swept up in pointless emotions. I know how it throws me off and I can't afford to not be on my game now. It cost me so much with Maelyn.

The drive to the picket line is tense. I’m not sure if it’s the weight of what’s happening or the fact that I can still taste Evie on my lips, but I can’t shake the feeling that something’s about to snap.

When I arrive, the scene is already chaos. News crews are everywhere, filming the protestors, microphones shoved in faces, cameras capturing the tension. The workers shout and chant, but the anger in their voices is different now. It’s sharper, more aggressive.

Some of them are genuine, fighting for better wages, better working conditions. But others have slipped into the ranks, pushing the limits of what they can get away with. They're only here to stir up trouble, probably sent by Cormac himself.

I dodge a few cameras, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of the media frenzy, and make my way through the crowd to find Draco and Jasper on the edge of the protest, standing apart from the noise. Jasper’s face is bruised, a black eye swollen under his left eye. He looks like he’s been in a fight—hell, he probably has. But the expression on his face is focused, businesslike. Draco stands beside him, scanning the crowd with his usual calculating look.

“What’s the situation?” I ask, moving closer. I'm not supposed to be here, but it's where the action is, and it's where Draco is. We have to talk.

Draco looks me over quickly before turning his gaze back to the crowd. “Same as before. Some of these guys are just here to cause chaos, make things harder. Doyle’s men are stirring the pot, trying to make it look like the striking workers can’t get their shit together.” He scowls and rubs a hand over his face. His frustration is palpable.

I feel the tension spike in my chest. Cormac’s moves are always calculated. He never does anything that doesn't have a purpose. He’s pushing, testing the boundaries. “How many?” He's here to distract us from something bigger.

“Enough to make things ugly,” Draco mutters. “A few of them have been causing real trouble, getting people riled up. We’re trying to keep the strikers focused, but it’s only a matter of time before this turns into something worse.”

I look over at Jasper, who’s still nursing his black eye. “You okay?”

He grins, wincing slightly. “I’m fine. Just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. You know how it goes.” Unfortunately, I do know how it goes. I've been in his place and his father is right. It's going to turn into something far worse before it gets better.

I glance over at Draco, trying to ignore the noise around us. But I can’t shake what’s been eating at me all day—the call with Cormac. Ronan may or may not have said anything, but I know I have to. This is Draco's baby. He built this from his blood, sweat, and tears.

“I got a call from Cormac this morning,” I tell him, and he narrows his eyes at me. “He’s pushing us. Told me to pull back the picket line or more men are going to die.”

Draco’s eyes flash and he grits his teeth. He doesn’t say anything right away, but I can see the wheels turning in his head. His eyes glass over, drift toward the chaos. “What else did he say?”

“He made it clear—he’s not just talking about the picket lines. He said they’d hit us where we least expect it. He’s going after us harder than we thought. And he won’t stop at the workers. I’m thinking it’ll be an attack at the office.”

Draco looks over at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re not wrong. He’s always been a bastard. He won’t stop with just a few fists on the line. If he’s really pushing, it’s not just about muscle and territory anymore. He’ll go after the heart of things." The crevices in his forehead deepen. He understands what that means.

I let out a slow breath. “That’s what I’m worried about. He’s already got people slipping in among the protestors, stoking the fire. If we don’t get ahead of this, it could blow up in a way we can’t control.”

Draco nods, his expression grim. “So, what’s your plan?”

“I’m upping the security around the office,” I reply, my mind already working through the steps. “We need to make sure nobody slips through, especially with the Doyles stirring things up from the inside.”

Draco’s gaze hardens, and for a moment, he’s not just the guy who runs the union—he’s the father figure, the protector. “Listen, Lochlan… I need you to promise me something.”

My stomach tightens. “What’s that?”

Draco steps closer, his voice low but urgent. “You protect Evie with your life. She’s my precious treasure, and I can’t even bear to think about what would happen if something happened to her. Do you understand?”

I nod without hesitation. "You have my word.”

I briefly consider telling him what’s been happening between me and Evie. The pull between us, the tension that’s been building. But with Cormac pushing us, it isn't the time, not with the threat to the office hanging over us. I keep my mouth shut.

Just as the moment hangs between us, a shout breaks through the tension, followed by the unmistakable sound of fists hitting flesh. I turn quickly, spotting a brawl breaking out in the middle of the protest. People are yelling, bodies shoving against each other.

“Shit,” I mutter, already heading for the chaos. Draco’s right beside me, and together, we move through the crowd, stepping in to break up the fight.

The brawl intensifies as bodies slam into each other. One guy swings a punch, landing it square on another’s jaw. The crowd around them erupts, shouting, pushing, shoving. I move quickly, shoving people aside as I grab one of the men by the collar, dragging him away from the chaos. His eyebrow droops, blood draining from his nose.

“Enough!” I bark, my voice cutting through the noise. “This isn’t why we’re here!” The rage simmers just below the surface.

I shove him toward the back of the crowd, but he snarls and lunges back at the other protestor. Before I can react, Draco’s already in the middle of it, grabbing the guy by the arm and twisting it behind his back. He’s got this under control—he always does.

“You’re not helping,” Draco growls, his grip tight on the man’s wrist. “Get your shit together before I do it for you.” He must know this man is a loose cannon.

The guy struggles but finally calms down, the fight slowly draining from him. I glance back to see the scene starting to settle, but my blood’s still pumping with adrenaline. This—this is what we’re dealing with. Chaos. It’s not just about the protest anymore. It’s a ticking time bomb.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, but I don’t check it. I have a bad feeling about the direction this is all going. My eyes scan the crowd again, but this time, they’re not just looking for troublemakers. I'm looking for the reason this average strike has turned into a warzone.

I don’t know how, but I can’t shake the feeling that if I don’t get Evie to open up, she’s going to get caught in something bigger. Cormac is already playing games with us, and the longer I let her stew on whatever she's hiding, the harder it’s going to be to protect her. She doesn’t understand what this is yet, but I do.

And if I don’t step in, she’s going to be hurt. Badly.