Chapter 19 Lane
Lane
“Come onnnn,” I begged, hoping that my persistence would win out. That, or Ro would agree just to shut me up. Either would be fine with me.
Dori grumbled from where he sat on the bench in the training room, “Fucking shut up already.”
I ignored him. Obviously.
I leaned closer into Ro’s space, rocking forward on the balls of my feet, hands clasped behind my back like I was trying to look sweet instead of deeply, aggressively annoying. “You said we’re ready,” I pressed. “You said we’ve been doing good. It’ll be a bonding experience.”
Ro didn’t even look at me.
Which was rude.
He stood near the weapons rack, methodically checking over a handgun like I wasn’t two seconds away from tackling him. His pale lashes cast faint shadows against his cheeks, expression perfectly calm in that way that usually meant someone was about to get their feelings hurt.
“Lane,” he said, voice even, “if you don’t step back, I’m going to make you.”
I grinned. “You say that like it’s a deterrent.”
From the bench, Dori let out an exhausted groan and dragged a hand down his face. “I swear to god, I’m gonna dump you in a ravine on the drive home.”
“You won’t,” I shot back immediately. “You love me. And you’re too scared of my Daddy to ever actually kill me.”
Dorian raised his middle finger at me.
Ro finally looked up from the gun in his hands, and I felt that flicker of satisfaction spark in my chest. Attention achieved. “You understand this will be different than what you do with Greyson?”
I straightened a little. “Of course. That’s for fun, this is serious.”
Ro sighed, the corner of his lip tilting up. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Would you let us go with you if I promised I could get the entire family to go to your house for Thanksgiving?”
A flash of vulnerability showed in his eyes, just like I knew it would. To Ronan, family was everything. I wasn’t afraid to exploit that.
Aww, Daddy would be so proud.
Ro’s gaze lingered on me for a long second, like he was trying to peel me apart layer by layer and see what was actually underneath all the noise.
It made my skin buzz.
Ro’s eyes were something out of a fantasy novel. I mean, logically, I knew that albinism was a naturally occurring trait that other people had as well, but I’d never seen any of their eyes. So to me, Ro’s eyes were magical.
Sort of a mix of the lightest, palest shade of blue and a soft pink.
They were stunning.
I watched as something shifted in his gaze as he seemed to come to a decision, setting down his gun and turning towards Dorian.
“Dorian,” Ro called. “Do you feel ready for a real job?”
Dori didn’t answer right away. His boots hit the floor with a dull thud, and he rolled his shoulders, working out tension that had probably been sitting there the entire time I’d been running my mouth.
Ro didn’t rush him.
He just watched.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Ro added after a second, tone gentle but not dismissive. “This isn’t a test you pass by saying yes. It’s also probably not the best first job. Torture has been requested.”
I glanced between them, suddenly a lot more aware of how quiet the room had gotten.
Dori huffed a breath through his nose, dragging a hand back through his dark hair, pushing it off his face. His tattoos shifted with the movement, ink stretching over muscle as he straightened to his full height. “I’d like to go. I feel ready.”
“If you’re sure,” Ro said, sounding a bit hesitant.
Dori’s jaw flexed. “I am. I’ll stay out of your way and follow instructions. I did well with Family Game Night, didn’t I?”
“Yeah… yeah, you did,” Ro attested with a slight frown. “Okay. Get whatever weapons you want, and we’ll head out.”
Dorian bowed his head in a show of gratitude, then walked over to look over the array of choices.
I joined him quickly, leaving Ro to himself for a moment.
“What do you think the target is like?” Dorian asked me quietly.
“Not sure,” I answered. “I’m excited that we’re going, but now I feel like I should’ve asked more questions.”
“Are you nervous?”
“God, no. Are you?” I raised a brow, searching his face for any sign that he wanted to back out.
He shook his head, then placed a handgun in a holster at his hip. “I feel like I should be, but I’m not. I don’t think I’m excited either, though. I’m just ready.”
I tilted my head, studying him. “Yeah,” I said slowly. “That’s probably the correct emotional response.”
Dori snorted softly, adjusting the strap of his holster. “Good. Glad one of us is doing this right.”
“Hey,” I protested, bumping my shoulder into his. “I’m doing great. I’m thriving.”
“Were you like this before Greyson?” he suddenly asked, reaching for an extra magazine.
“Like what?” I hummed.
“Unhinged.”
I rolled my eyes, mouth curving into a grin.
“Oh yeah. I just hid it better back then, or at least tried to. Then…” My voice became softer.
“He showed me it was possible for someone to love all of me, even the messed-up parts. He taught me that it was okay that my brain works a little differently from others. But he also helps me remember to take my medicine to manage the more negative things, like my mood swings and depression. So I mean, I think clinically speaking, I’m probably technically less unhinged now? ”
He huffed out something that might’ve been a laugh, shaking his head as he handed me a gun. “Well, I’m glad you’re ‘probably technically’ okay.”
“Me too,” I agreed warmly before moving over to the knives and grabbing a couple. I’d use the gun if necessary, but it wasn’t what I’d prefer.
Behind us, I heard the faint click of metal.
“Done?” Ronan asked, eyes running over the both of us.
“Yeah,” Dori answered.
“Yep!”
Ro nodded, then said, “If something goes wrong, you do not hesitate. You move. You leave. You do not come back for me unless I explicitly tell you to.”
My stomach dipped.
“Understood?” he asked.
“Understood,” Dori said immediately.
I hesitated half a second too long.
“Lane.”
I exhaled, uncomfortable with the idea of potentially leaving Ro in a dangerous situation alone. He was stronger than me, more capable than me, but I still had to grit my teeth as I repeated, “Understood.”
Ro stepped forward, lifting his hand to cup the side of my face. “I’ll be fine. Don’t look so worried.”
“I know… I…” My gaze dropped. “You do this stuff all the time.”
His thumb brushed against my cheekbone, a small token of comfort that I hadn’t expected from him.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”
I swallowed, forcing myself to look back up at him. His expression had softened just barely, but it was enough to ease the tightness in my chest.
“You’re not alone tonight,” he added. “I won’t put you in a position you can’t handle.”
I nodded once. “Okay.”
His hand lingered for half a second longer, then dropped.
Ro stepped back, composure snapping back into place like it had never slipped at all. “There shouldn’t be anyone with our target, but make sure you’re ready for any surprises.”
“What do we do if there’s someone else there? Kill them?” Dori questioned.
“Preferably not,” Ronan responded. “If possible, I’d like to incapacitate them and keep them out of it. However, if they try to kill you, then you’ll do what you need to do to stay alive.”
Dori nodded once. “Got it.”
“Got it,” I echoed, a little quieter this time.
“Let’s go.”
We followed Ro out of the training room, the door swinging shut behind us. The halls were dimmer now, most of the building settling into that late-night quiet that always made everything feel a little more serious.
A little more real.
* * *
“Jackson Neil is thirty-eight, recently divorced, and living in a two-bedroom house, approximately an hour outside the city. He was arrested about three years ago for molesting his wife’s sick niece.
The charges were dropped after the family miraculously came up with the money for a surgery the girl needed.
His wife divorced him soon after, and he didn’t fight when she wanted the majority of their assets,” Ronan explained as the three of us sat in a dark car parked behind the hedges lining the man’s backyard.
“So he bought himself out of it?” Dorian grunted.
“Well, he thought he did,” Ro continued. “When the girl’s grandparents found out about everything, they put a hit out on him.”
“But if the grandparents have enough to pay for a fucking assassin, then why didn’t they pay for the surgery?” I wondered.
Ro’s gaze flicked to me in the rearview mirror, pale eyes catching what little light filtered through the hedges. “They say they didn’t know,” he said simply. “The parents kept it quiet—who knows why? By the time the grandparents found out, the surgery had already happened.”
“Oh.” I leaned back, that answer settling heavy in my chest. “So now they’re… what? Fixing it the only way they can?”
Ro didn’t sugarcoat it. “They’re making sure he doesn’t get the chance to hurt anyone else.” Continuing, he supplied, “Neil’s been getting anonymous threats that started escalating a few months back. Because of that, he might be expecting trouble, so keep on your toes.”
I nodded slowly, processing. “So… we go in, hope it’s only Neil in there, and get him?”
Ro’s lips twitched faintly. “That’s the simplified version.”
Dori adjusted slightly in his seat, leaning forward to try to get a better look through the windshield. “Where’s the entry point?”
Ro pointed subtly toward the back of the house. “Sliding door. The alarm system is outdated, and he tends to keep the back unlocked.”
My face scrunched up. “He’s been getting anonymous threats, but leaves a door unlocked?!”
“Don’t try to understand stupid, Lane,” Ro sighed, tapping his fingers against the wheel.
“Does he want to be murdered? Is that it?” I mumbled under my breath.
Dorian spoke up. “So where’s the torture happening?”
“Inside.”
“Inside?” I repeated incredulously. “Like… here inside? His house inside?”
Dori blew out a breath. “That’s risky.”