Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He nods once. “Yeah.” Then he says, “My dad just got out of jail.”
34
PAUL DONNELLY
My Cobalt brethren telling Luna about her dog-shit ex-boyfriend is back-stabby, traitorous behavior. Something no friend or Musketeer would do. But like I’ve known, they’re her friends, her Musketeers. Not mine. So they’re true to Luna, and I can’t fault ‘em, especially if she asked outright.
As much as I’ve looked up to the Cobalt Empire—been close to their brother Beckett too—Tom and Eliot don’t owe me anything. Not a sock, not a toothbrush, not loyalty.
I’ve done nothing to earn that sort of devotion from them. On top of that beautifully steep mountain I haven’t tried to climb, my dad is gonna be on their hit list. It’s a long list though, considering those two eat, sleep, dance, and sing vengeance.
“How’d he get out?” Eliot asks, his eyes flashing hot like the devil himself just got freed from hell.
“Charges didn’t stick,” I say vaguely and more quietly. “We knew it was coming. He has an alibi.” He was bartending at the Rhino. I’m not telling them more than I have to. Like how it’s suspicious I was the only Donnelly let out of jail that night. My family was gonna start questioning if I sold them out.
Police finally agreed that having my dad on the outside would be better for everyone. It means I have a tie to the rest of my family still out of prison, and I can ensure no one else is plotting anything.
“Was more of your family released?” Tom asks.
“Just him.” I’m about to glance at Luna, but comms go off, vibrating my eardrum.
“You should be posted at one of the doors,” Ian Wreath tells me, like he’s my boss or something.
An Alpha bodyguard pipes in, “The clients don’t need a play-by-play of what’s happening in security.”
Not giving them one, but thanks for caring. They’re bugging me, really, and this sorta bullshit doesn’t usually get under my skin that easily.
Their echo chamber of “Donnelly Sucks, Let Him Know” has been in my ear since I arrived with Luna. Helping find Luna at a South Philly row house—that wasn’t a brownie point to Triple Shield bodyguards.
They’re aggravated that I’m friendly with Luna enough to cross a line between bodyguard and client right now. A line that I know most of Triple Shield reestablished when Beckett almost got attacked on Halloween.
After what happened to Luna and Lily, it’s now written in stone for them: Don’t be friends with clients. Stay serious. Stay alert. No buddyguards allowed.
When they figure out I’m more than friends with her, there might be another civil war between the two security firms, but this one feels like a long-time coming.
“When’s the take-down?” Eliot suddenly asks.
My head swerves to him. “The what?”
He closes his lighter. “Sean Donnelly. He can’t walk free. After all he’s done—”
“Did he do anything bad himself?” Luna asks them, then looks to me for answers.
“He was involved,” Tom emphasizes. “That’s way more than enough.”
Eliot nods, “He’s a part of it all. He should pay.”
My blood is ice, and I can’t disagree with them. My dad isn’t all that good. He’s been a shit parent and a bad person deserving of prison time, which he’s paid. That being said, Luna wouldn’t be here without him, and for me, that’s worth too much in my head.
“I’m taking care of it,” is all I tell them.
Eliot pockets the lighter. “You need a helping hand, I’m always available for payback.”
“Nah, I got it,” I say easily. “Payback’s a bitch and my favorite one.” Not all true. I haven’t been completely revenge-hearted, or else I would’ve transformed into John Wick and slaughtered my whole family decades ago. But Eliot doesn’t catch my humor since he doesn’t know me all that well.
“Like minds,” he replies.
Comms go off abruptly in my ear.
“You going to be over there all afternoon, Donnelly?” a bodyguard snaps.
“What do you have to talk to them about?” another says.
I click my mic at my collar and whisper, “Maybe you should be worrying about what’s happening to your face. It’s looking pretty ugly.”
A few guys growl out my name, along with fuck you.
“I’ll fuck myself later, thanks for caring,” I mutter over comms.
Luna whispers to me, “Security is glaring really meanly at you.”
I refuse to glance back at them. “We’re not seeing eye to eye right now about something.” Suddenly, my new phone beeps, and I take out my cell.
AKARA
SFO emergency meeting in 30 mins. Penthouse library.
My pulse spikes into my throat. “I’ve gotta go back to the penthouse,” I say quietly to Luna and show her the text. “Enough temps are here that’ll protect you while I’m gone—”
“I can come with you.” She’s hopping off the stool, and even though it might be better to protest and tell her to stay, I don’t.