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But Mel’s sharp gasp alerts me to her sudden fear. “Where?” she breathes.
“To the east, about a hundred yards away.” I force my voice to stay even in an attempt to calm her. “At first, I thought it might be a coincidence, but he’s definitely watching us. Has been since Chewy’s, at the very least.”
Her eyes finally land on the man in question. “He’s one of the Kellys’ men.”
I nod. Muscle-bound, with broad shoulders that tower nearly a foot above the heads of those around him, I would recognize my brother Akim from a mile away. He’s one of the bouncers at Pearl’s—the club where Mel was working in Boston. He hauled me off Vinny Kelly when I trounced him for touching her inappropriately.
“What do we do?” she murmurs, her voice wavering slightly, like it does when she’s scared.
“Denka and Lev are on their way. We’ll sit tight until they get here. Keep eating. It’s best if he doesn’t realize he’s been spotted.” I dip my head to follow my own instructions, taking a healthy bite of my taco to pretend I haven’t spotted Akim. My food is stone-cold, but I hardly notice.
“Are they far?” Mel asks before taking a bite of her food.
“Ten minutes away.”
Silence falls between us as we keep eating. My Chewy’s taco tastes like ash in my mouth as I consume it to mask my continuous visual sweep of our surrounding area.
I intentionally picked a bench on high ground for our picnic to give me a better view of our surroundings. It gave me the advantage of spotting our stalker at a distance. But now that I’ve confirmed my suspicion, our location becomes slightly less advantageous.
Because it’s also left us exposed. From here, we could be approached at any angle. Which is why I keep my head on a carefully relaxed swivel.
My senses are on high alert now that Akim is here. The odds are good that my older half-brother brought reinforcements. Which is why I called in Lev and Denka for backup. They can rush Mel to safety while I confront Akim—along with any accompanying men. Hopefully, I can convince him to go back to Boston without a violent altercation.
My brother shifts his stance, his broad shoulder dipping more dramatically behind the tree where he’s half-hidden. And the subtle gesture tells me he knows I’ve spotted him. The countdown to our inevitable confrontation has begun.
Hopefully, Lev and Denka can get here before my brother decides to approach.
Otherwise, things could get ugly fast.
Because I won’t allow Akim near Mel or Gabby.
And I’m willing to take whatever measures necessary.
The tension that thrums through my body compounds as I consider the implications of Akim’s arrival. It’s no surprise that one of my countless brothers found us so quickly. All of the Lycaon brothers are put through my father’s grueling program at a young age.
The program is my father’s creation, and it hones each of his children into intelligent, nearly indestructible weapons of death with keen tracking skills and just enough emotional damage to make us perfect soldiers.
Not many men are twisted enough to come up with the idea to turn their progenies into commodities. But my father has made a lucrative business out of knocking women up and paying them off so he can train an army of mercenaries—most of whom work for the Kelly family in Boston.
Not me. I got out of there as soon as I could, and I never looked back. At least, until the day I found Mel working for Keoghan Kelly himself—the king of Boston’s indestructible Irish mafia and puppet master of the port city’s criminal underground.
My father’s program, however, seems to haunt me even here, even now. It’s the reason Akim knew how to find us within days of our arrival in New York—despite my best efforts to cover our tracks.
I wonder if there will ever come a day when I stop cursing my father. He’s put a sick blemish on this world—a stain that includes me.
“All done, keiki?” Mel asks Gabby.
Gabby nods and tries to help her mother along as Mel wipes her daughter’s mouth and hands with a napkin.
Mel’s doing a good job of appearing natural, but the unnatural rise in her tone tells me she’s still nervous. Her hands shake slightly as she balls the napkin and stacks their disposable containers.
“Can I go play?” Gabby pops up from her chair as her eyes alight on the small rock formation where two children are climbing.
“Not just yet.” Mel swiftly catches Gabby’s wrist to keep her close. “Let’s wait for Gleb to finish eating. Remember, it’s polite to stay seated until the last person is done?”
Not that I would typically mind, but it’s a good excuse to keep Gabby nearby, so I intentionally chew more slowly. Thankfully, the little girl seems willing as she climbs back onto the bench to wait for me. I can feel her round, innocent eyes watching me expectantly. And despite the tension humming in the air, I suddenly find it hard not to chuckle.
She’s doing her best to be patient, but her toddler’s excitement and curiosity make it a challenge to sit still.
