Page 15 of Revenge
I turn the volume of the cell up and press play. Destiny by Sia starts. How fitting. But I won’t do it to myself. Instead, I search for Kelly Clarkson, “Stronger (What Doesn’t Kill You).” What is it they say? Fake it until you make it. That has to be my new motto.
Chapter Nine
Viktor
The ceiling offers no solutions to my problems. How the fuck can I fix this? Time is passing, and I’m no closer to finding Ava. Fiona is driving me crazy. Every day is a new argument, and every night she tries to get in my bed. The clan is falling apart. Fights are becoming more frequent, and my father doesn’t care. The only thing he cares about is money. It doesn’t matter how many reports I give him about what is happening—it falls on deaf ears. Worst of all, he’s being seen with Cillian around the city frequently.
I need a minute of peace. I have to clear my head from the white noise. Not having Ava with me has created a black hole, and I’m out of sync. She’s the only one who can bring calm in the chaos. Her absence has me feeling lost, as though there’s a part of me that’s missing, and it’s frustrating.
I look at the time. It’s not even five in the morning. These days I’m lucky if I get four hours of sleep. I’ve developed a routine since she’s been gone. As soon as I wake, I hit the gym hard. The pain of working out helps me turn off my brain. I’m about to start another set of bicep curls when my cell rings. The screen reads Oliver.
“Where are you?” he asks before I speak.
“The gym.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.” He ends the call before I can question him. I grab a towel and my bottled water.
“Good morning,” I say as he enters.
“It’s not going to be good when I give you the news.” In an instant, I’m on high alert. My first thought is Ava. Something must have happened to her.
“Is Ava okay?”
“This is not about her.”
I let out a breath. “What is it then?”
“We have our first casualty.”
As he says it, I feel my frustration growing. I knew it was coming, but I was hoping it wouldn’t.
“Fuck.”
“I know.”
“Which side?”
“Ours. A foot soldier, barely twenty-two. He joined us three months ago.”
This is only the beginning. I know it will get worse from here.
“What happened?” I ask.
“The kid was off duty and having a drink in a bar. An Irish said something, and the kid reacted. The details are still coming in, but apparently, it was three Irish against one Scot.”
“Why the fuck was he alone at a bar? Everyone should be at least in pairs. I gave specific instructions.” Running my fingers through my hair.
“We’re trying, but we can’t control everything.”
This is my issue with working with the Irish. I can’t control everything.
“Does he have family stateside?”
“His mother and a little brother.”
“See to it that they’re taken care of.”
He stares at me in silence.
