“Damn, Vallois,” Hollis said, his voice warm and rough from the whiskey. “That’s good stuff.”
“Twenty-year-old, single-barrel bourbon. I bring it out when shit hits the fan.”
Hollis snorted. “That it definitely has.”
“Jagger?” Snow demanded, obviously trying to get them back on track.
Hollis nodded and held his crystal tumbler up to Lucas. Frowning, he took the glass and walked over to refill it. From the shadows under his eyes and the shake to his hand, he looked like he needed it and if Hollis had been undercover with Jagger, then he couldn’t begrudge the man a few drinks. Just so long as he got what the fuck was happening out of his mouth.
“I was undercover, infiltrated his gang on the drug side of things. Actually managed to get into his compound. We were trying to get info on his child auctions but the fucker was too careful. We got what we needed to take him down for drugs. We couldn’t wait.”
Hollis accepted the tumbler from Lucas and took a slow sip this time. He paused, holding the glass with both hands in front of him. Lifting his head, he looked at Ian for a second, a ghost of a smile drifting across his face before he looked away again. “Shit hit the motherfucking fan last night. They were supposed to wait ’til I got out, but…” He sighed as if there was no point in going into it. “They couldn’t wait. Jagger knew he was going down. His temper has been really hot recently like he knew something was up.”
“You got him, right?” Ian demanded. He edged to the very end of the table so he was barely seated, getting right in Hollis’s face. Lucas’s heart cracked for the man because he could already guess the answer, the whole reason Hollis was even sitting in his living room at that moment. “You got him, right? He’s dead or sitting in a cell right now?”
Hollis swallowed down the last of the bourbon, his hand tightening on the crystal before he shook his head. “Half his men are either in the morgue, the hospital, or in a cell. But Jagger…Jagger got away.”
“And he wants me dead,” Ian whispered.
“He wants all of you dead,” Hollis corrected.
Those words sent Rowe and Snow into a fury of shouts, ordering Ian to go back under protection with two bodyguards at his side at all times. He wasn’t to go back to Rialto. Rowe demanded that Snow stay away from the hospital. Jude and Noah’s raised voices joined in, but Lucas’s eyes came back to Ian sitting on the edge of the table, drawing deeper and deeper into himself, lost to the noise. The detective stared at Ian, looking equally lost and heartbroken that he’d brought this news and dropped it into his lap.
“Did he make you?” Andrei’s voice cut through the shouting without having to lift it in volume. It was the first time he’d spoken since Lucas had returned home, and it was colder than he’d ever heard slip from his lover.
But the words were enough to grab Hollis’s attention and even snap Ian from his thoughts as his head jerked toward Andrei.
“What?” Hollis asked.
“Did Jagger discover you were a cop? A traitor?”
Hollis nodded, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. A hint of the man he’d come to know over the past year. “Oh yeah. He knows.”
“So you’re a target too,” Rowe announced. When Hollis nodded again, Snow swore loudly as he came to stand over the detective.
“Why the hell aren’t you in protective custody? Shouldn’t you be in a safe house or something? You’ll have to testify, right?”
“And how many witnesses have actually made it to the courtroom when they’ve had to testify against Jagger?” Hollis snidely inquired. He flopped back against the chair and grinned at Snow. “I’m better off on my own, but I was ordered to lay low for a while. I only stopped by to give y’all a heads up that Jagger’s in the wind, and he’s got nothing left to lose.”
“No,” Ian said softly, then suddenly jumped to his feet. “No! You can’t. You can’t be alert and safe all the time on your own. You need someone watching your back.”
Hollis reached up and grabbed one of Ian’s hands. “No. I’ll be fine.”
“Bullshit!” Ian turned to look at Rowe. “Can’t you spare Sven or Royce…or…”
“Sure, but we need to think about you.”
“I don’t—”
“We need a plan,” Jude interrupted, lifting his voice above the others. The paramedic stood and put his hand on the back of Snow’s neck. He massaged the tense muscles there and Lucas had to bite back a smile to see some of the tension leave Snow’s jaw. They’d been together close to a year and Jude had definitely learned to read the testy surgeon well. Lucas also admired his ability to take charge in certain situations. Sometimes. Occasionally, it got on his nerves.