Page 36 of Primal
“I’m sorry,” Conor chimes, ticking up his hand to draw my attention. “Did you say little cotton panties? Because fuck, that’s hot.”
“Nuh-uh.” I shake my head at him, severely disapproving of what I imagine him doing with that information. “You can keep Catlin and her panties out of your thoughts.”
“Too late.” He sighs. “Are we talking about plain white ones? Or maybe those cute little flowery ones?”
Fighting the urge to beat the piss out of him, I snarl, “I swear to fucking God?—”
“Don’t stop,” Declan goads him with a wicked smirk. “I’m really fucking enjoying watching him on the receiving end for a change.”
“Fuck the lot of you.” I sneer at both of them before turning my attention to Tristan. “And the third thing?”
“Let’s just say Layla was giving her averydetailed lesson on the many things Catlin can use her mouth for.”
Such a naughty little girl she is.
My cock twitches at the thought of her wrapping her lips around it.
“I got stuck in traffic,” Liam announces as he walks into the club. “What’d I miss?”
Standing from his seat and walking behind me, Declan condescendingly pats me on the head. “Our baby brother is finally going to get his cock sucked.”
Over-exaggerating an adjustment of his cock, Conor shares, “And I bet Catlin will look fucking incredible on her knees in nothing more than her little white cotton briefs.”
“That’s fucking it,” I roar, rising from my seat so abruptly that it scoots across the floor. I lunge at Conor, toppling his chair and taking us both to the ground with a hefty thud before landing a punch onto his jaw.
Ignoring the two of us wrestling across the floor, Tristan says, “When you two fucks are done, we need to talk about the Pakhan.”
The Pakhan?
The word draws my and Conor’s attention, ceasing our scuffle. We haven’t seen or heard from him or the Bratva in months. Not since the night I shot him when we forced our way into the apartment in Brighton Beach to get Quinn back. Shoving away from one another, Conor and I both climb from the floor and retake our seats around the table.
“Rory called me on my way over and informed me that one of the guys under him saw the Pakhan at a bar uptown last night.”
“How sure are we?” Declan asks, his tone pained with worry. The Bratva have already tried to take Quinn from him twice. He’d burn the city to the ground before letting any of them ever lay a hand on her again.
“Sure enough,” Tristan answers. “Until we know otherwise, it’s not worth the risk to assume it wasn’t him.”
A sense of dread washes over me, suddenly realizing how lax I’ve been—we’ve all been—the past couple of months. We’ve stopped traveling in groups, leaving all of us at risk. Tris only has two men on his building and chauffeuring Layla around the city now. Even the army surrounding Declan’s house has dwindled back down to a normal security team, with Rory leading the crew.
Fucking foolish idiots, the lot of us.
Especially me. I’ve made zero arrangements for Catlin’s safety. If the two of us can leap over the meager wall separating her home from the city night after night without being detected, the Bratva—or any enemy—would be able to get to her with ease. Thoughts of the night they came for Quinn at the bar and anything like that ever happening to Catlin has my stomach churning.
I don’t realize that worry is painted across my face, but my brothers all clearly see it. “She’ll be fine,” Liam assures me, tapping my knee to garner my attention as he pulls his phone from his pocket. “I’m already getting a couple of guys over to the church.”
“I don’t wa?—”
“I’ll make sure they’re discreet. Neither Catlin nor Father O’Flaherty will have any idea they are there.”
“Thank you.” I appreciatively tap his arm. “I want to be the one to let her know what kind of danger I’ve inadvertently put her in.”
Danger I hadn’t yet realized I’d be putting her in for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER THIRTY
FINNIGAN
Fueled by an unfamiliar nervousness, I head to the church to pick up Catlin much earlier than we had agreed upon. Parking my bike next to our little slab of concrete, I’m pleased to spot two of our guys lingering around the perimeter of the church grounds. While they immediately stand out to me, I highly doubt that they would get a second glance from either Catlin or Father O’Flaherty.