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On the highway, I called Caden. He picked up on the first ring.
“Yeah? You good?” he said.
I cleared my throat. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The road blurred before me, streetlights streaming past.
“Osian put his hands on her,” I said.
I heard the bed springs creak.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s bruised, but she’s not hurt.”
“So what are you going to do about it.”
“I’m going to kill him,” I said coolly. “What did you think I was going to do? Let that fucker put his hands on Clara so I can keep a fucking business deal?”
I heard him set his phone down and then cold metal clinked heavy against a countertop. He was loading his gun.
“Meet me at the warehouse in ten minutes,” I said. “And call Yale.”
“Fuck, it’s been a while since I went hunting,” said Caden with psychotic relish.
“No hunting tonight. He’ll be easy to find. I’ll bet anything he went straight to his father’s house to beg for sanctuary.”
I hung up the phone. The rage in my chest kept building slowly to a terrifying crescendo. Never in my life had I felt more enraged and ready to burn the world down.
Ten minutes later, I strode into the locker rooms at the warehouse to change. In my office I pulled on a set of black military style pants and a t-shirt. Usually I wore my shoulder holsters because they concealed my weapons, but tonight I didn’t need to.
Osian Cardiff knew exactly what I intended to do to him.
The door to the locker room swung open and I stepped out to check who it was. Caden strolled in and pulled his shirt off, revealing his network of tattoos. His hair, normally slicked back, was tousled.
His cobalt eyes were alight.
“Where’s Yale?”
The door banged open and Yale walked in, already dressed casually in black pants and a shirt. He had both guns strapped to his waist and a semi automatic over his shoulder.
“I’m not hunting him,” I said.
Both their eyes narrowed. Oblivious as always to the indoor smoking policy, Caden dragged a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He blew two streams through his nose and passed me the cigarette.
“You look like you’re about to tear him apart with your bare hands,” he said. “Have a smoke, calm down.”
Yale’s brow jerked up. “You do look like that.”
Caden’s heavy lidded eyes flickered. They exchanged a glance.
“That’s what you intend on doing to him, huh?” Yale said.
I put the cigarette between my teeth, checked the magazine of my pistol, and pushed it into my thigh holster. My head spun slightly as I took a slow drag and passed it back to Caden.
“We’re a traditional people,” I said. “I’d hate to break with that.”
Without waiting for their answer, I walked past them and out into the main room.
“Jesus,” said Yale under his breath.
