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We close the remaining distance with a few brisk strides, arms open wide to embrace one another. Eric pats me on the back as he has hold of me. “It’s been a while.”
“Too long,” I agree, my gaze lingering on the man who had been both my confidant and antagonist throughout our tumultuous history. “I have to say, I’m enjoying the stylish entrance.”
He spins to give me the full effect of the attire he’s donning before it’s time to turn our attention to the array of weapons he has brought for us to win this fight with.
“You know, arm’s dealing is a dangerous game, Colt,” Eric informs me with a warning gaze. I’m sure he’s talking more about me and my life than his. But I listen intently anyway. “But it’s also a game that requires strategy, negotiation, and calculated risks. Plus, you’d be surprised at the kind of connections you can make in this world.”
“Sure, sure. Well make sureyou’recareful,” I tease back, letting him know that I got the message. “Because we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Anyway, why don’t you tell me all about the guns we have here, so we can use them properly.”
In the midst of our conversation, just as we’re getting to the end of our conversation regarding the guns, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I retrieve it and glance at the screen, my heart skipping a beat as I read the urgent text message. It’s from Ryker’s phone, the message stark and demanding:“We have to get together immediately. There’s something important we have to discuss.”
My mind races as I absorb the words. The fleeting moment of camaraderie with my brother is abruptly shattered, replaced by a chilling realization that the fragile peace already coming to an end, with Alistair really making his move towards us.
I meet Eric’s gaze, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he notes the change in my demeanor. “Everything all right, Colt? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I hesitate for a brief moment, grappling with the decision before me. The urgency in the message is undeniable, and Ryker’s involvement means that whatever’s at stake is likely of grave consequence. I’m not going to ignore that, now more than ever.
“I’m sorry, Eric,” I say my voice edged with regret. “Something’s come up. I have to go.”
Understanding dawns in his eyes, and he nods somberly. “No need to apologize. We’ll see one another soon enough. I know how it is.”
With a firm handshake and a nod of mutual respect, I turn and hurriedly leave, the echoes of our conversation lingering, but mixing in with whatever might be about to come next…
* * *
Novak
The soft chimeof the coffee shop door announces my entrance, and I step inside, a sense of familiarity mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The cozy ambiance envelopes me as I make my way to a corner table, the worn wooden chair creaking beneath my weight as I settle into it. My gaze is drawn to the scene before me.
Sitting across from me is a man of contrasts. His stature is compact and stout, almost at odds with the generous food spread surrounding him. Plates heaped with pastries, sandwiches, and a colorful assortment of snacks formed a veritable feast, the spread almost eclipsing the small table between us. His most striking feature is his hair – wild, curly tendrils of dark gray that seemed to have a life of their own, framing his face in a tangle of unruly elegance.
“I got you a coffee,” he mutters almost under his breath. “Since that’s all you ever have.”
I sip my black coffee, its bitter warmth a stark contrast to the visual feast before me. As I observe the man’s animated gestures and the occasional gleam of mischief in his eyes, a sense of unease overcomes me. Something about this doesn’t feel right and I can put my finger on what it is.
“Doesn’t that prick feed you?” I ask, my tone a mix of curiosity and exasperation.
The man sitting across from me grins, his cheeks bulging as he chews on a mouthful of fries. He swallows before responding, his expression unapologetic. “Feeds me good,” he says with a wink, a glimmer of laughter dancing in his eyes. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like to eat.”
I shake my head with irritation. I’m not here to watch this man eat. We have much more important things to discuss, and I’m sure this man knows this. This is why Ryker sends me to deal with the spies, because he can’t deal with their asshole attitudes.
“Any word on the movement of the war?” he asks suddenly, his voice a hushed murmur that barely disturbed the quiet ambiance. Finally, we’re getting down to business.
I lean forward slightly, my expression solemn. “We know Alistair is going to come for us. It’s only a matter of time. I want to know what you have heard.”
He offers me a one shouldered shrug. “Not much. Only that Alistair is planning retaliation against your pack. Something about his daughter.”
The mention of Lily sends a pang through my chest, a whirlwind of emotions stirring within me. She’s a name that carries weight, a presence that has shaped me ever since she came into my life and lingered in the corners of my mind, even as the chaos of the present demands my attention.
Lily took my virginity recently, an intimate connection that has left an indelible mark on my soul. Her laughter, the touch of her lips, the warmth of her embrace – it all rushed back to me in a flood of sensations, a testament to the profound impact she has made on my life.
And that’s not everything. Maddox as well. Watching her fool around with Maddox at the same time as me unleashed something that I didn’t even know was there. She really is the sexiest woman that I have ever known, and I can’t get enough of her.
But I can’t spend this meeting thinking about Lily or I will lose my damn mind.
“Anything specific?” I demand, anger now surging through my voice.
The spy studies me for a moment, his gaze assessing and unreadable. “I’ll keep my ears open,” he says finally. “If I hear anything substantial, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”
