The distinction was important. Family. Not families. Every ol’ lady and all the kids. Hell, even the club girls. They were protected too.
“Which brings us to the next point.” Grim turned my way. “Not askin’ you to share personal shit, Wraith, but whatever happened today, I need to know your head is in the game.”
“It is,” I assured him.
“Then you got to tell me how you know the social worker.”
Annoyed, I didn’t want to say shit. Still wasn’t sure what I was gonna do about Tawni or if I wanted to confront her about what happened seventeen years ago or not.
“Is it gonna be a problem?” Grim persisted, waiting for my reply.
Fuck. I didn’t want to talk about this right now. “No,” I growled. “I’m good.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem for Jigsaw to tail her. That social worker knows too much. I’m bettin’ those fucking Russians think so too.”
“Her name is Tawni,” I ground out with clenched teeth.
“Social worker sure was a sweet piece of ass,” Jigsaw began, like he didn’t hear me, “I’d sure like to—”
He didn’t get to say more before I was on my feet, leaning forward, with the collar of his t-shirt in my hand. “Her name is Tawni, and she’s off limits.” My words weren’t loud, but they were spoken with a deadly calm that everyone in the room recognized. My Reaper had rushed to the surface, his snarl dominating my features. “Off. Fucking. Limits.”
The room was silent for a couple of heartbeats before a chuckle escaped Grim’s mouth. “That’s what I figured. Try not to lose your shit, Wraith.”
My Reaper wasn’t backing down. “Need a minute,” I responded, staring at Jigsaw as his lips widened into a macabre smile.
“Tawni is yours,” he conceded, highly amused as I released his shirt and my Reaper receded as I sat back down with a scowl.
Fuck. I just revealed exactly how I felt about Tawni despite my protests. Wasn’t even sure how I would react until Jigsaw mentioned her name. After that, all I knew was that my Reaper didn’t want any man, brother or not, thinking of her at all.
Grim lifted Trish’s hand and pressed a kiss to the top before releasing her fingers. His arms folded across his chest as he appeared deep in thought. “I don’t think those Russians are gonna let Yeva stay here without a fight.”
Trish inhaled sharply but didn’t disagree.
He scooted back and reached for her, pulling her into his embrace. “It’s okay,” he murmured, wrapping one arm around her as she snuggled into his chest. A determined glint settled in his dark eyes as he lifted his head. “I’ll be right back.”
Trish was scooped up into his arms before he carried her off, presumably to bed. I was bettin’ that he regretted bringing her here since that news about the Russians would only worry her more and add additional stress. He was back in less than five minutes, agitated as his hand tugged at his beard.
“Motherfucker!” he yelled, walking in with a bottle of whiskey. He tossed back a shot and poured another, staring us down as he swirled the amber liquid around in his glass. “I fucking hate this shit. Gonna lose my goddamn mind soon.”
Mammoth nodded, leaning forward in his seat. “We’ve increased security since the Denali brothers betrayed us. There are extra cameras all over the compound. Xenon hooked us up. I even stocked weapons and ammo behind the bar in the common room and inside the end tables. Fuckin’ strapped a few underneath the pool tables too.”
“No shit?” Rael asked, looking impressed.
“Yep,” Mammoth confirmed.
“Any word on those Denali fuckers?” Grim took another shot and shook his head, clearly frustrated.
“No, but it won’t be long before we find them.”
“Thought they went underground,” Jigsaw reminded us, scratching his chin. “Can’t hide forever, right?”
Diablo leaned forward, slapping a palm on the table. “No, but they’re gonna try. I can’t wait to find Vince and Antonio. Got something special planned for those assholes.”
“Oh yeah,” Rael agreed.
Hannibal leaned back, flipping his metal lighter open and closed as he casually joined the conversation. “Made a few phones calls. Seems Sheriff Tucker has been a busy man. Got himself a few hefty deposits in his bank account recently.”
“How hefty?” I asked, wondering how this was relevant.