Though every phone on the plane seemed to ring at once, it was Gene who told me about the bombing. I knew something was wrong, and when I picked up my phone I expected Thomas, but before I could speak into it, Gene thrust out his hand, an unspoken command to wait. So I did.
When he hung up, he wasted no time. “There was a bombing at the Mauricio.”
I knew then. The family’s nightclub. Theresa was in New York. The question about Emma was forefront, but I searched my mentor’s gaze. He hid nothing. He looked back at me, gazing steadily, and there were no shadows in his depths. I would’ve been able to see it if anything had happened to her. But still I asked, “She was hurt?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
My phone rang again, and I answered this time. “Is she hurt?”
Cole hesitated the briefest of seconds. “From what I’ve been told, only a few sprains, and she had a cut in her mouth.”
Okay.
She was fine.
The storm brewing inside me didn’t rage, but it was there. It simmered.
I asked my second question. “Was she the target?”
“God help us,” Gene muttered beside me.
I ignored him, waiting for Cole’s answer
“We don’t know. The bomb was left in a bag at the back of the club. She was outside talking with a friend. If she was the target, that was the closest they could get to her. If she wasn’t the target, it might’ve been left as a warning to us? They might’ve been hoping not to kill as many as they did.” He sounded wary. “We can’t know for sure.”
“She was outside?”
“In the alley.”
I knew the layout. My men would’ve positioned themselves all around her, which meant some of those men were close to the blast. I didn’t say anything about them to Cole. He was family, but he wasn’t in that family. Those men were mine and Emma’s. They would be avenged. I didn’t need to think about that vow, I just breathed it.
The storm kicked up to a low boil.
“Where is she?”
“At the friends’ that you told me about. I went and checked on her.”
He’d made himself known to them. Noah, Theresa, and Amanda now knew about another player in my life. I gripped the phone tighter, but kept my voice even. No reaction. “She was fine?”
“She was. Her friends were taking care of her.”
I knew why Cole had gone. Emma was my life. She’d been left behind in his city. He felt an allegiance to me and needed to see for himself that she was fine. I understood it, but I wasn’t happy about it.
“Cole,” I murmured.
“Yes?”
“Do not ever go near those friends again.”
There was silence for a beat. “Carter?”
“If my men are with her, she is fine.”
“I went to see for my own eyes—”
I cut him off, holding the phone so damn tightly now, “I know. That’s not needed.”
He grew quiet. “I owe you my life. This is my city—”