Perfect Ruin (Unyielding #2)(96)

After spending a year watching London, another two years helping me find her, it was obvious Ernie was attached to her. He’d used that four-letter word a few times, too, when talking about her. I knew he saw her like a daughter, and it f*ckin’ killed him to see her so broken because he knew her before Raven. He knew her smile, her kindness, her generosity. Only a few would take the time to chat with a homeless guy and give him coffee and breakfast every morning. It also killed him that he’d been lying about being a homeless guy.

She looked up at me then back at Ernie. “Ernie. I don’t understand.” Her eyes came back to me. “You know him?”

“After the fire, I hired him to watch you. He’s an ex-Navy SEAL. Knows what he’s doing and had eyes on you when he could.”

“You had Ernie watching me?”

I nodded.

Her eyes shot to Ernie again. “You owe me years’ worth of coffees and croissants.”

Then she stepped from my arm and ran for Ernie, who was looking rather uncomfortable and guilty. Tyler, who was beside him, stepped away with an amused look on his face.

She stopped a foot from Ernie then threw her arms around him. It took a second before his arms found their way around her and he hugged her back, lightly lifting her off her feet when he did it.

“Where have you been? How have you—” She jerked as his hands slid down her arms and she noticed his bandaged hand, minus a finger. “Oh, my God. What happened?”

Ernie looked at me and shrugged. It was up to him if he cared to share what Dorsey had done. London had been through hell, but I’d never lied to her. If she asked me, I’d tell her the truth.

Ernie didn’t like bullshit. He was pretty straight up, so he shared. “Dorsey. Decided to feed a snack to his pet shark.” London’s mouth gaped, her hand going to his chest. He put his overtop. “Thought he’d take my trigger finger. Fucker, picked the wrong hand. I’m a lefty.” He chuckled.

London didn’t. Instead, she pulled him into her arms again. I saw her whisper something, but I didn’t know what. I did see Ernie’s cheeks flush again.

Georgie and Chess sauntered in carrying mugs and a coffee pot. They set them down on the dining room table. Georgie then went to Deck, and Chess to the laptop where she started scrolling. Tristan, who’d been lounging against the windowsill, frowned and strode over to her, his arm snaking around her waist and pulling her up against his side.

She ignored him as her fingers typed furiously across the keyboard. “The media says the car explosion was an accident.”

“I told you I’d make it happen,” Deck said.

“Oh, Deck always makes it happen,” Georgie proclaimed, eyes flickering to his crotch.

Chess looked up from the computer screen and laughed. She stopped abruptly when she glanced at Tristan. The f*ckin’ guy was staring at her like he wanted to eat her alive.

London moved in to me and I settled my hand on the back of her neck before I said, “With Mother and now Dorsey dead, proclaimed accident or not, Moreno will have his guard up.”

“Colombia,” Josh muttered. “He’s careful. Word is you can’t even get a sniper on him.”

“Why did he need Vault?” Deck asked, his leg half-hitched up on the edge of the table. “His drug business is solid. Doesn’t need contacts, he already has them.”

“But he needs drugs smuggled,” I said.

“Jesus Christ, the kids,” Tyler said. “He’s using f*ckin’ kids to get the shit over the border.”

“That’s why the farm was moved to Colombia after you escaped.” I chin-lifted to Tristan. “I’m betting he paid my mother and Dorsey a percentage. He had his pick of kids from the farm to use for his smuggling, and Vault had a place to train killers.”

“But Dorsey wanted out,” Deck said.

“Men don’t like other men having more power,” Georgie said. “Not greedy meatloaves like those guys.”

“We need to get the kids out before he moves them.” Chess closed the laptop. “We have to go in now.”

This was where shit wasn’t going to be easy. We were leaving today, but not all of us.

Tristan, I realized, had f*ckin’ balls because he didn’t make it sweet. He just told Chess what was happening. “You’re going to Greece.”

Chess scowled. “Excuse me?”

I was getting to like Tristan, despite his arrogance. He wouldn’t take shit from my sister and my sister was going to be a handful. Her heart had always been her weakness and she’d go down to Colombia and run into a fray of bullets in order to help those kids.

Deck and I discussed it. Brought Tristan in and discussed it, then decided on a location. Tristan wasn’t a mark for Moreno, so his house in Greece was ideal. Fuck, no place was ideal, but it was as ideal as we were getting in this situation.

“You heard me,” Tristan said calmly.

“Tristan,” my sister retorted. “Don’t think for a second you have the right to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

Georgie started to say something when Deck sent her a warning look that had her snapping her mouth shut and frowning.

“You’re not going near this shit. It’s f*ckin’ Colombia,” Tristan growled.

“This is so not happening.” Chess crossed her arms, stance wide, defensive and ready to take on the CEO. He, of course, looked unconcerned that she was pissed off or that she’d be pissed for a very long time.