Page 57 of Ruthless Salvation

Surprised, I lifted my gaze from my phone.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I was able to track down her last known location.”

“No shit? Where was she?”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “If you recall, Caitlin followed her brother to learn more about who he was working with, which led her to Damyon. I’d thought maybe he’d been responsible for Darina’s disappearance, but it turns out Damyon had gone to Lawrence Wellington’s house the day she followed him. That’s where she took Darina.”

Fuck me sideways. That was unexpected.

Wellington was a shipping mogul who also happened to be the father of Rowan’s ex-boyfriend. She’d seen Damyon at Wellington’s house, which tipped us off that the two were somehow connected. It had been the start of an intense couple of weeks as we navigated the dangers. I’d thought that was all over, but it seemed Oran was in the process of reopening Pandora’s box.

“Keir know about this?”

“I just sorted it out yesterday. Haven’t had the chance to tell him, and no need to upset him on Thanksgiving.”

We both looked over at our cousin just as his phone rang.

“Yeah?” Keir answered, piquing my curiosity. The last time we were together, his call had involved Storm, and the possibility that could be the case now had me on alert.

I was a fuckin’ nutjob. No news there.

“No. I’ll head over and check it out. I’m sure it’s nothing.” After a pause, he hung up.

“What was that all about?” Rowan asked as I moved closer to find out who had called.

“Alarm went off at the club.”

“I’ll go check it out,” I volunteered, itching to leave. I’d given in a half hour ago and looked up Storm’s location on my GPS tracker. She was at home like she’d told me she would be, so I wasn’t worried about her, but I’d had enough family time for the next two months. I loved my family, but the chaos of two dozen adults and just as many rambunctious kids running around wore out my patience.

“We were about to head out anyway,” Keir said. “I’ll run in with you on our way home, just to be safe.”

It worked for me, so long as I had an excuse to call it a night. We told everyone goodbye and were out the door in a handful of minutes. I followed Keir and Rowan on my bike. The frigid night air was perfect for waking me up after gorging on food all afternoon. If I didn’t know better, I would have said the women had cooked for a whole damn army. With a mix of American and traditional Irish dishes, we had everyone’s favorite and then some. If I’d sat at that house any longer, I’d have been at risk of slipping into a food coma.

After thirty minutes on my bike, however, I was wide awake. I parked on the sidewalk, noting that everything at Moxy looked as it should.

Keir left Rowan in the car and joined me at the front door.

“It’s locked,” I told him. “If someone got in, they went in through the back.”

“I seriously doubt anyone’s in there. It’s Thanksgiving. Even the Albanians aren’t out tonight. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s those damn rats that keep multiplying in the back alley.” He walked inside nonchalantly and flipped on the few light switches located at the front.

I wasn’t about to take anything for granted, so I almost always had a gun on me, even if just conceal-carry .22. Gun in hand, I slowly made my way through the club with Keir behind me. I reached the back hallway and froze when I noticed a sliver of light shining from beneath the locker room door.

My gaze cut to Keir before we moved in sync to either side of the door. I strained to listen while Keir took out his Glock. Not hearing a thing, I took a deep breath and barged through the door, gun drawn.

I was ready for a showdown. I was ready to kick someone’s ass or chase someone from the building. What I wasn’t ready for was to find Stormy bloody and beaten, curled in a ball on the floor. She was shaking like a leaf, and I instantly lost my fucking mind.

“Storm, what thefuck!” I roared. It was a shit thing to do, but I couldn’t help myself. I was mindless with rage. Someone had put their hands on my woman, and I was going to skin the bastard alive.

“Easy,” Keir hissed at me, though his admonishment barely registered.

“I’m so sorry, guys,” Stormy whispered in a broken voice. The sound gutted me—ripped out my insides and made meaty confetti out of them. “I wondered if coming here might trip the alarm, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Keir started forward, helping me to break free from the shock and do the same.

“What’s goin’ on, Stormy?” he asked her gently.