Page 82 of Bonded By Blood

Colt shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Once the fight turned into a semi-literal dogpile, I took the chance to get the hell out of dodge.” He jerked a thumb in Jasen’s direction. “Had to drag him away. Dumbass wanted to keep going. But he’s useless dead, and since it was obvious the old guy would get away, I figured we’d all need him again.”

“I can fucking hear you, boy,” Jasen snarled from the couch.

A side door opened and the advisor returned—again—with another bottle of blood. The bottle was passed to Joe, who stood closest to the couch, who passed it to Jasen. Jasen took it with a more guttural grunt and resumed drinking.

Trista sighed dramatically. “What did you say my brother is going by these days?”

“Boris.” The answer came from Brianna, Joe, and Colt simultaneously.

She curled a lip in distaste. “Yes. What an ugly name.” Another sigh. “Boris is my problem. I will be dealing with him in-house. Though I do appreciate you making sure my Enforcer came back to me.” Trista paused and cut a look in Jasen’s direction. Joe had the distinct impression they’d be having a separate conversation, which he didn’t want to be witness to. Then she re-focused on Colt. “You, however, were hired to root out the Wilson brothers, correct? Hunt them down and possibly deal with them if the situation presented itself? It’s my understanding you’ve completed approximately half of that task.”

“That is what I was hired for,” Colt said. “But Jasen’s the one who killed Tobias Wilson, not me.”

“Damn right,” Jasen muttered.

Trista waved haphazardly at the air, as if she were swatting away a pest. “Did you, or did you not, find them?”

“I did.”

“If you had not been present, would Joseph, or even my granddaughter, have been killed?”

“Or gravely wounded.”

“But instead they returned home without a scratch,” Trista said. The word home resonated in Joe’s brain, even as Trista continued. “And in fact, the more persistent of the two lost his arm to your weapon, correct?”

Colt inclined his head.

“That’s pretty much when the show went off the rails,” Kendall offered without rising from her seat on the other sofa.

Colt tucked his hands into his pockets. “That might be true, but I understand if you choose to withhold payment until the other Wilson is dead. He’s probably already out of Sacramento by now, and if he has half a brain, he headed in the opposite direction of the wolf pack. So I’ll clean up and head that way.” He returned his focus to Trista. “As long as it’s still acceptable for me to hunt him within the state.”

“As long as that’s your intention, you have my blessing,” Trista said.

Joe had to fight to keep his mouth from dropping open. He glanced to Brianna and found a similar look of wide-eyed surprise on her face.

“Wait!” Kendall exclaimed, as Colt had already turned and started toward the door. “Let me at least pay you half! And I wanted to talk to you.” She’d made it up to his side before she finished speaking. “At least let me walk you out.”

Joe caught a glimpse of what might have been an eye-roll before Colt said, “If I tried to stop you, I’d be eviscerated.”

No one in the room spoke until the door was shut again.

“I’m proud of you, Mother,” Brianna said.

“For what?”

“For being cordial with Adrian, and letting him live after.”

Trista sighed and sat down on her throne. “I owed him that much, I suppose. We’ll see if he was worth the effort. For now, we have other matters to discuss.”

“Other matters?” Brianna repeated.

Joe scowled. They’d more or less exhausted the topic of Boris, for the moment, but Trista wasn’t wrong. They needed to figure out how many casualties they were looking at. Not to mention how many naïve civilians had seen the fight that had taken place in the middle of the city—nighttime or not. He wondered, idly, how much of a hold she really had on the police and media to have kept those influences from showing up at least while he’d been there? Still… Unless that grip was a firm one hundred percent—which was impossible—there was bound to be fallout.

“Joseph,” Trista said, drawing his attention. She waited only until he’d looked her in the eye again. “What would you suggest?”

He stared at her. Why would she ask him that?

“Mother?”