“Well?” she snarled. “Why Russia?”
“I need to retrieve someone from there.”
“Retrieve?” She paused. “An evacuation?”
That was the problem; I didn’t know. Hell, I didn’t know if Star was eveninRussia. I was going off a bombing in Petrovsky Park and what felt like a wing and a fucking prayer.
I scrubbed a hand over my face then winced when I caught on the tear in the skin on my forehead.
Nothing about the last couple of days had gone according to plan.
Ever since Star Sullivan had entered my life, shit routinely went down the shitter, but these past few months had been worse than ever.
This whole crap fest had started with Katina, Star’s foster daughter, who had come to visit me, running away from her home in West Orange, New Jersey, to find my apartment building so she could tell me that her foster mother hadn’t been in contact with her and had skipped a call when she never did that.
I’d promised her I’d bring her home, then I’d taken Katina back to the Satan’s Sinners’ MC compound where I’d been greeted by the man who was dating Katina’s older sister—Maverick. It was only after his fist met my face that I remembered he was the one who was a Green Beret.
The prick might have been retired, but that didn’t mean he packed less of a punch.
The fact that I woke up in the hospital with an apologetic MC Prez sitting at my bedside told me that Katina had informed Rex, the Prez, and the rest of the Sinners’ MC that Ihadn’tabducted her and had, in fact, been in the process of returning her to her family.
I was still dealing with the migraine that came from my head being bounced off the driveway like a basketball, so this shit with the government was the last thing I needed to be juggling.
That was the problem though—it wasn’t like theyaskedme. Riggs didn’t call with requests.
Sheordered.
Rubbing my eyes, I muttered, “I’m not sure if it’s an evacuation or not. Someone important to me has gotten herself into some trouble over there. I just need to get her back here. I’m not a flight risk. You know that.”
“I know that your family situation has changed,” was Riggs’ cool answer.
I mocked, “Thanks for the flowers.”
“Your father was lucky that youarea governmental asset, Conor. It’s not a bad thing that he can’t create more chaos in the city streets.”
The bitch of it was I didn’t disagree with her.
My da had used me.
Riggs was just the same.
Everyone used me.
I was a tool.
Some days it was easier to embrace that than others.
Pursing my lips, I argued, “Da didn’t keep me here. My brothers are everything to me. You know that.”
She harrumphed.
Tired of this conversation, I changed the subject to what really mattered: “What does the government need from me this time?”
“The Secret Service had an internal breach a few months ago.”No shit. “Our engineers have created a communication platform that we’d like you to test.”
I arched a brow she couldn’t see and called her out on her BS. “Does this ‘breach’ have something to do with the First Lady’s death?”
“What do you know about that?” Riggs clipped.