Page 99 of Enzo
Robbie closed his eyes, and I felt all the energy leave him, and that wasn’t happening on my watch. “It won’t change the shape of your heart and what’s in it, Robbie, and we’re staying here unless we have to leave, then we’ll leave together.”
“And we take out Mitchell,” Jamie said, arms crossed over his chest, fire in his blue eyes.
“Jesus, Pretty,” Killian laughed with disbelief.
Jamie didn’t move for a second, then took a single step forward, eyes sharp. His fingers twitched at his side.
“He’s a threat to Redcars and our family,” he said. “And we’re not asking for permission.”
The air between them crackled. Killian’s easy confidence held—there was a flicker of something sharper in his eyes now. Respect, maybe. Or recognition of just how dangerous Jamie could be when cornered?
Killian chuckled. “Is that what you want, Pretty? Revenge?”
“Justice,” Jamie corrected, not backing down from Killian’s mocking tone. “And everyone has a weakness to burn.”
“Ah, yes, our hacker-slash-pyromaniac murderer,” Killian murmured.
“Then you know I can find a flaw and take him and his buddies down.”
“You don’t get it, Pretty.” Killian shook his head, his expression serious. “Mitchell’s weakness is sitting on Enzo’s lap.”
I felt Robbie stiffen against me, and I tightened my arms around him. His head pressed into my chest as if he was trying to disappear, and I hated that Killian had said it out loud like that—as if Robbie was a liability, a tool, instead of the person I’d bleed for.
My pulse thudded at my temples, but I said nothing. I didn’t need to. Robbie’s fingers curled into my shirt, and I felt his breath stutter once before settling.
Killian’s gaze softened by a fraction. “Taking out Mitchell, if that’s what you’re planning, is the wrong move.” He huffed a laugh. “How will we get justice if you kill him?”
“That is justice,” Jamie snarled in Killian’s face.
“Back off,” Killian snapped. “We need to kill Roman first, then see what cards Mitchell plays when everyone thinks he’s no longer a threat. He’ll be desperate to get his money, and we’ll need to neutralize him.” He paused, then he smirked at Jamie. “What do you say, Pretty? Are you good for more than burning shit down and standing around looking cute?”
Jamie stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his glare sharp enough to slice. “Say that again, and I’ll hack your face off the fucking planet.”
Killian blinked once, then grinned wider, enjoying the pushback. Sparks flew in the silence that followed, electricity crackling between them, so thick I could almost taste it.
“Back down, J,” I said.
“Yep, back down, Pretty, the men are talking,” Killian added with a smirk, but Jamie didn’t laugh. He glanced at me, eyes hard, and I gave him the tiniest shake. Not now.
Killian turned his attention back to Robbie, all the playfulness bleeding from his face.
“We don’t just need a body to prove Roman Lowe is dead,” Killian mused, tapping his fingers on the table. “We need a spectacle. Something public enough to make the news, but controlled enough that we manage all the variables. He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, and opened an app, clicking around, and then with an aha! he connected with someone who sounded pissed that Killian dared to contact them. A couple of sentences later, muffled as Killian paced toward Logan’s office, he returned with a grim smile. “It’s on.”
Robbie grew tense. “What about any kids he takes before we close him down, what about… I couldn’t do anything… I need…”
Killian tensed; all the teasing was gone. “What kids?”
“Payments for cargo, with names, codes. I never saw it, but he trafficked, and…” Robbie’s voice wobbled. “I left them.”
I tightened my arms around Robbie. “You didn’t leave anything,” I said fiercely.
“I didn’t know,” Killian began, and then corrected himself just as quickly. “I mean, you didn’t know.”
I didn’t have time to work out Killian right now.
I wanted Robbie safe; I wanted JohnfuckingMitchell dead.
THIRTY-THREE
