Page 76 of Ruthless Salvation
“It’s perfect,” I breathed through the swell of emotion. Pride. Elation. Worry. Shame. I experienced the entire gambit in the span of a heartbeat but settled on gratitude when Torin’s lips pressed passionately against mine.
He’d been incredibly understanding and supportive despite a harrowing series of events that most people would have deemed insurmountable. Not Tor. He charged ahead fearlessly, my heart safely in his hands. His steadfast commitment gave me the courage to believe that maybe, just maybe, he truly would stand by me through it all. Despite the danger and uncertainty, Torin was devoted to me in a way I never imagined possible.
A sense of hope and burgeoning pride filled me as the jeweler soldered on the necklace. I promised myself that I’d tell him everything soon—tomorrow even. I just needed things to settle a tiny bit before I dropped another potential bomb. Or two.
We said our goodbyes to the jeweler, then returned to Torin’s car. The fall sun had already dropped low enough that only a soft glow penetrated the late afternoon blanket of clouds. Mother Nature had set a somber tone for the night, and I felt it seep deep into my bones.
“I’m going to check on the cat after I drop you off, just so you know.” Torin’s statement stunned me because A, I’d been a horrible cat mom and not considered Blue Bell at all; and B, Torinhadthought about him, knew I’d been distracted, and was assuring me in his own surly manner that he had it covered.
“Thank you. Blue Bell and I both appreciate you thinking of him.”
His eyes cut briefly to me. “Not doin’ it for the cat, babe.”
Warmth unfurled in my chest. “I know,” I said softly. “How long do you think we’ll stay with Keir and Rowan?”
“No clue. I don’t think there’s any way to predict how this will unfold. I’m taking it one damn hour at a time.”
I couldn’t help but sigh.
Me, too, Tor. Me, too.
Present
Keir hada heads-up that we’d be coming, but he didn’t know much more than that. I wasn’t looking forward to the questions he would undoubtedly ask. Not after his lack of support in the meeting. I would have avoided him entirely, dropping off Storm and bailing, if I wasn’t painfully aware that I needed help. I could have tried elsewhere, but Keir was my best bet and the man I’d most prefer at my back.
The minute we arrived, Rowan swept Stormy off to get her set up in a guest bedroom, leaving Keir and me alone.
“Let’s have a word,” he instructed in a cool, calm tone.
I followed him back to his office, closing the door behind us.
“There’s no convincing you to hold off on whatever it is your planning, is there?” The question was purely rhetorical.
“You know better than anyone how dangerous this guy is and what it’s like to have him after your woman.” For a time, we’d thought Damyon was a danger to Rowan. He’d been so damn desperate to protect her that he’d married her on the spot.
He studied me, probably curious at my sudden possessiveness toward Storm, but he didn’t call me out. “I do, but we need to respect the family.”
“You think that back in the day, your father would have said this was a fucking democracy?” My words took on a harsh edge. “He and Uncle Brody made all the decisions for this family. They didn’t invite other opinions or worry about hurting anyone’s feelings.”
Keir’s eyes flashed in warning.
I’d intentionally struck at a sensitive topic. With Uncle Jimmy transitioning away from leadership and Uncle Brody’s recent death, a vacuum of power had stirred up tensions among the next generation of Byrne men, Keir and Oran among them. An intricate dance had played out in the past year as everyone jockeyed for positions while trying not to upset Jimmy before he was out of the picture.
I’d had the misfortune of not only being born the youngest in my family, but my father was the least involved in the family business. All four of my siblings had chosen to distance themselves from our less-than-legal lifestyle. I never did fit their mold. I was an old-school Byrne, through and through, never meshing well with authority. I knew I wouldn’t be in line for leadership anytime soon, and it hadn’t truly bothered me until now.
“What exactly do you want to do?”
“Strike before he has a chance to prepare. But in order to do that, I need to find the bastard.” I didn’t mind doing the dirty work but had hit a brick wall in my search for the man.
Keir sighed. “I took a photo a few months ago,” he said somewhat reluctantly. “It was a picture of the car Damyon had been driving when I saw him with our stolen guns. I gave it to Oran to see if it might help him learn more about the situation and what happened to Darina.”
“He able to find anything?” My pulse thudded in my ears.
“Yeah, but not in the way I expected. The plates led to a dummy corp that didn’t give us any info, but Oran noticed from the photo details that it was taken on a Wednesday night. He already knew from looking into Lawrence Wellington that the man goes to the Olympus club every Wednesday night like clockwork, so he called in a favor and got a look at the guest registry. Sure enough, Damyon was in attendance that night.”
“I didn’t think guests were even allowed.” The insanely secretive social club was so private that it was almost mythical.
“Oran has learned a lot in the last year hobnobbing with society and has put that information to use. The club allows guests, but only if approved, which means they have to give certain information beforehand. The given address was in Russia, but a Manhattan marina was listed as a local residence.”