Chapter 3
ROWAN
Opening up the door to Drago’s house, Reggie tries to pull me back. But it’s too late, I’m already through and heading for his living room.
Drago’s blue eyes lock onto mine as he talks in Russian on the phone.
He sounds pissed. It’s hard to tell, though; he’s like Reggie, constantly fuckin’ grumpy.
“Have you heard of knocking?” Drago asks, placing his phone down next to his laptop on the couch.
“I have. I chose not to. You invited us here, at this specific time. I assumed you’d be expecting us,” I tell him casually as I drop down on the couch opposite him.
“I could have been busy?” He raises an eyebrow.
I grin.
“Jerking yourself off? If I’ve interrupted, feel free to go relieve yourself upstairs.” I point up to his grand staircase.
Reggie growls behind me.
“Why would I be doing that now? At seven thirty am?” Drago asks.
I frown.
“I did at six thirty? Is there a time limit on it?”
Drago runs a hand through his blond hair, as if he’s contemplating my question.
“No. I suppose not.”
“How the fuck did we get here?” Reggie grunts as he sits beside me.
Drago chuckles.
“He’s your twin. You tell me.”
“Ha-ha. I’ll knock next time,” I chime in.
“What can we do for you?” Reggie asks.
Drago sits back, resting his foot over his knee.
“I have intel from a friend back in Russia on some connections, or potential connections, to The Preachers organization. We’re under Declan and Finn’s instructions to scope out our enemy thoroughly before we make an attack.
Mikhail is doing the same in Vegas, and Frankie in New York.
But we’ve also got a branch no one had a clue about in Phoenix I’m trying to bring in. ”
I clap my hands together.
“Cowboys?”
Drago nods.
“Yeah. They own the biggest ranch in Arizona. And the family has been working for Enzo for years. He’s kept that quiet, apparently. I’m still trying to get in contact with him, I think he might be a good source.”
In this life, it’s one enemy after another. You always have to sleep with one eye open. That’s if you fucking sleep.
But the shit with The Preacher, it feels different.
Like a nuclear war is brewing. And we’re fighting ghosts.
“We got a name of someone to watch?” I ask.
Since getting shot and being on bed rest, I’ve been itching to get back to it.
“A small time dealer that’s been sniffing around one of our warehouses,” Drago confirms.
And that’s the issue with The Preacher. They aren’t mafia. They could be anyone.
“Our next shipment comes in three days,” Reggie mutters.
I turn to face him.
He’s been quiet since we left home this morning.
“Yeah. It’s Friday in three days, brother.”
Reggie shakes his head.
“I’m flying to London tonight. I should only be there a few hours.”
I lean back with a smirk.
“Is the Prince having to run after his runaway Princess?” I joke.
His jaw tightens.
“Yeah. I fuckin’ am.”
I chew on the inside of my mouth.
“Where was my invite?” I ask.
We do every job together. Since we joined the Quinns at age thirteen.
It’s always been us. In everything.
“Because this is my burden, not yours. I signed up for this shit. And, you are still in recovery time.”
I nod. I have this gnawing feeling that this wedding is going to put a wedge between us.
We’ve never had proper girlfriends. If we did, we shared them.
You can’t share a wife.
“Is that alright?” Reg asks.
“Yeah. Sure. Just gonna miss your miserable ass.”
I turn back to Drago.
“Wanna send me over the info, just in case our Prince here ain’t back in time? I’ll take Conan with me if not.” I tell him.
Drago clears his throat. God, I’m sick of them trying to baby me. I got shot. I healed. I’m fine, still as lethal as ever.
“Sure, you’re in. And I can step in with you. I need to get out in the field more. I don’t like where this is heading.” Drago’s blue eyes cut to mine.
Drago had a far worse time than me. He really was knocking on hell's door. I ain’t ever seen a man tortured to that extreme and still survive.
“Nice. Can you teach me some of that martial arts stuff now?” I ask.
I feel Reggie’s stare burning into the side of my head.
“I’m not a kid, Reg. Steph said my wound is healed nicely. I’m clear to get back out. You know I need this.”
I get it. I know it fucked him up seeing me almost dying. But I didn’t this time. And I gotta find ways to keep busy.
“Look. I won’t let Conan kick my ass in the ring anytime soon. That a good enough compromise?” I ask.
“And you think I won’t?” Drago cuts in.
“We need to test this theory,” I tell him.
“What time are we meeting Lyla?” I ask Reggie, checking my watch.
“I haven’t set a time. But I know she will be at Inferno soon to host the breakfast meetings.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
This isn’t going to go well. It never does letting a sub go. But this one, she behaves like we’re in a relationship with her. She wants dates. Cuddles. Which Reggie always dips out of, and I can see the disappointment on her face every time.
“Lyla isn’t going to be happy,” Drago says.
“See? Even Drago knows!”
Reggie’s eyes narrow.
“I’ll do the talking. She will be fine. I’m getting married, I’m not bringing Bella here when we are contractually tied to another woman. It’s not fair. And I want to keep my balls.”
Drago chokes on a cough.
“My future wife is a weapon against men, apparently,” Reggie confirms calmly.
Fuck, I can’t wait to meet her.