My gaze snaps to Akila’s and her brows pinch in confusion over what she must see on my face. She straightens, her hand covering her mouth like she’s preparing herself for bad news.
“I want him in the basement immediately,” I growl, not taking my eyes off Akila while I hang up.
She jumps to her feet and runs to me.
“Fuck. We got him,” I rasp.
Akila crosses her arms tight against her chest.
“Breathe, Lion.”
I run my hand through my hair, blowing out a breath.
“I’m not prepared—“
“Don’t think of the worst outcome,” she snaps, and I raise a brow at her tone. “Get Nate, then get your sister back. She’s alive, Lion. I’ll go get ready. I’m coming too.”
Akila turns and jogs back over to the bed to stuff her feet into her shoes.
“Doll,” I warn.
Her father might have been my father’s second in command, but he left before Akila was born. She had no idea about the life of crime her father led before I came along. I refuse to subject her to the darkest parts of my job—of me. Not because I don’t think she can handle it, but because where I’m dark, she’s light—and the last thing I want to do is dull any of that with my influence.
Akila spins around, leveling me with a glare, and crossing her arms. If it weren’t for this situation, I might think her act of defiance is cute. And then punish her for it.
“We’re getting her back,” she snaps, raising her chin. “And I’m fucking coming.”
My lip twitches, but I school my features, nodding my agreement. I can have one of my men pull her if it becomes too much. Her brother, Scar, might lose his shit when he finds out she’s insisting on being a part of this.
I leave Akila in the room to gather what we need for the trip back home, and race through the hallways to get to my uncle’s wing. I skid to a stop and pound on his bedroom door, hoping he’s in there since it’s nearly midnight.
Uncle Nate opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of joggers and obvious sex hair. There’s no sleepiness clouding his eyes and the man has a fine sheet of sweat covering his chest. Where this would be the time I’d normally give him a hard time, I wrinkle my nose, realizing my father figure was just fucking a girl in his bedroom. A girl who’s twenty years younger than him.
“We’ve got Martinez,” I finally say, slicing a knife through this awkward-as-fuck interaction.
His brows rush to his forehead, then fall and pinch together. I can see the disbelief settling in his mind along with my words.
“How?” he rasps.
My uncle has spent decades looking for this man and now we have him. I can understand his confusion and it takes me aback to see my uncle of all people caught off guard for once in my life.
I shake my head. “Does it matter? We have him. It’s time to bring Mal home.”
With that Nate slams the door in my face, likely to get dressed.
This is it.
27
Liam
Slammingmyemptyglassdown on the counter, I jerk my head for the bartender when I grab his attention. It’s been months since I’ve been anywhere that isn’t The Omen Mansion or Malia’s pointless condo. I don’t count going out hunting as anything but exactly that.
The bartender slides a fresh glass of whiskey down the bar, and I give him my best panty-dropper smile, filled with sarcasm, and roll my eyes when he snorts and goes back to ignoring me.
Asshole.
I scoop up my drink, more than ready for the burn I’m craving, pausing when the rim touches my lips as a hand brushes my shoulder and glides to the other side making a home there.