Page 93 of Riordan's Revenge
I dropped to my haunches, staring in shock at the display then reading the card again.
I fucking loved that she’d done it.
She was right, no one had ever bought me fucking flowers, and no one had ever loved me like she did either. I lay back on the centre of the floor in her fancy-ass apartment and put my hand to my chest. Why did it ache so much when she did sweet things? I breathed in deeply and just let myself feel it. All the spiralling, crashing strength of Cassie’s devotion.
The pale, late afternoon’s light filtered over me, at odds with the urgency that burned in my veins.
Last night, I’d tried to stop my emotions. I’d felt too much, and it had fucked me up. At some point, I’d lose her, and that was more terrifying than the risk of staying with her.
A certainty settled.
I told her I wouldn’t fall in love with her. Maybe that had been a lie. Whatever the rising Cassie-shaped energy in me turned into, it was my secret to keep. If she knew our being together risked my heart, she’d back away. It had been one of her conditions, meaningless for me at the time but now a problem.
I liked her. A lot. I was going to do all I could to keep her.
Including lie to her face about how I felt.
Another thump hit the door. “Riordan, open up.”
That was Shade. I jumped up to answer, and he leaned on the frame, two objects in his hands. Ah. The tracker I’d asked for.
“Does Cassie know you’re doing this?”
“Not yet. She put one on my bike, though.”
He watched me for a beat then raised his shoulder. “Fair’s fair. Safer for her if one of us can find her.”
He gave me a small gun-type device. Mimed using it. “Shoot into a fleshy part of the body. Best done while asleep.” On his phone, he showed me a map, centred on Deadwater, a blinking locator right over the warehouse. “This is the app to track her on. I’ll send ye the link.”
He zoomed in, the locator which had to be Everly, showing a distance marker and height elevation.
I exhaled. “As easy as that.”
“As easy as that.” He stowed his phone. Then he paused, his mouth twisted in some dark humour. “Oh, Riot? Just so ye know, if she wants to do the same, I’ll happily let her shoot ye in the arse, too.”
I resisted rolling my eyes. “Good to know. By the way, is Riot my crew name?”
Not everyone had one, most noticeably Arran who people just called the boss, but the more I was around the skeleton crew, the more I picked up. Shade and Convict were crew names. I’d heard Tyler referred to as Ghost, and there were others I’d barely got my head around. Cassie’s brothers had them, too.
“Let’s not get excited. We’ll see if it sticks.” The enforcer drifted his gaze over me in a shrewd, assessing way. “I have concerns over ye and your closeness to the inner circle. Not earned but gifted by your sisters and Cassie.”
“I’m working here, aren’t I?”
“Because Arran decided to keep ye close and not let Red get in there first. Your loyalty is a problem.”
My pulse picked up. I stood taller. “That’s bullshit to suggest I’d sell out the crew. I’d never do anything to put Cassie or my sisters’ safety at risk. You should know that from my actions.”
I’d taken him on, not once, but twice. I’d do it again if I had to.
He prowled a step closer, no humour in his dark looks. The tattoos all over his arms and up his throat added to the menace that gave him a reputation I’d heard about long before I met the man. “Ye wouldn’t hurt them, sure, but ye work for Arran and me. It’s us who suffer if ye hear something and decide to give it away. It’s our hard-earned position in the city that rattles when ye decide to shake the tree.”
He meant the mayor. “I won’t back down from my plans for my father, and I swear I’d never sell you out. Isn’t that good enough? I’m a man of my word.”
He tilted his head. Smiled.
Then made a tiny gesture with his fingers.
What the fuck? A skeleton-masked man rushed me and shoved me against the wall. A sack descended over my head, theblack material blocking all light. At the same second, my wrists were crammed together. Secured with a zip tie.