Damaged Goods

“Because I’m not your fucking damsel in distress. I’m a grown ass woman who was her own knight in shining armor for eleven fucking years, Killian!” she screamed, picking up her glass and chucking it into the wall, her chest rising and falling quickly as she panted through her anger.

“And whose fault is that?” I shot back, internally smacking myself for the stupid comment the second it left my mouth.

“My fucking sadistic grandfather, you neanderthal!” she yelled, grabbing my glass and downing the honey-colored liquid. We’d officially pushed her to the drinking stage, which was a lot louder and a lot less fun than the violent stage.

My phone rang then, and I held up a finger as I answered, her growl of frustration nearly feral when I shushed her.

“Killian,” I answered, waiting for my guy on the other end to give an update.

“Boss, we’ve just had another shootout. Weapons this time, not drugs,” he barked out, sounding out of breath.

“We’re heading to Joe now,” I confirmed. “Any casualties?”

“Only on their end, it was sloppy,” he said with a raspy laugh that ended in a cough.

“Good work,” I finished, ending the call and turning to Keir. “My men had a run in. We need to go to Joe.”

“Alright, Princess, we have a meeting we can’t miss, and you can’t come with us so soon after having one of these fucking attacks. You’re safer here, and it’s so soon that we don’t know if something could send you right back into that bad place,” he said, the warning clear, but she looked even more defiant at that.

“Then I’ll call an Uber and go the fuck home,” she said, and I just choked out a dark laugh.

“We can’t let that happen,” Ky said, sounding genuinely sorry. “It’s too dangerous now. You’re our biggest weakness, and we can’t risk someone tracking you from here and hurting you.”

“I’m not a fucking weakness,” she growled, taking it the wrong way. Of fucking course.

“No,” I explained, “you’re ours, meaning they could use you to make us compliant.”

“This is ridiculous,” she growled. “I’m not hiding away… I won’t!”

Our phones started chiming, more updates rolling in, and we were still arguing. We have too much going on to make time for this. With a nod from Keir, I sighed, moved forward, and yanked her to me before she could make it to her phone and keys sitting on the kitchen table.

“I’m so fucking sorry. Just know it’s for your own good. You’re safer here, and until we check on this, we can’t risk you. We won’t.” With that, I pulled her with me, down the stairs, eventually picking her up. By the time I entered the code to the main door, Carlo was jumping up from his desk. “Carlo, unlock that door for me, will you?”

“Of course, Boss,” he said, sounding amused for possibly the first time ever. He moved quickly, unlocking the door then dodging out of the way as I tossed her as gently as I could into the interrogation room and closed the door behind her. Once it closed, I locked it. She was immediately at the window, screaming her head off, but the soundproofing was in perfect condition. I’m never going to hear the end of this.

“Sorry, Baby Girl,” I mouthed before turning and walking away. Keir and Killian were waiting, elevator open as I approached, looking half-amused, half-pissed.

“We had no choice.” Kyrell’s reassurance fell on deaf ears. I hated myself for having to do that, especially with her last PTSD attack being so recent.

“I bet five bucks she’s gone when we get back and that room will be pure chaos,” Ky chuckled, hitting the first floor button.

“She’s going to be even angrier by the time we get back. How is she supposed to trust us if we treat her like her grandfather did?” I asked quietly as the elevator doors shut, closing us in with the weight of his question hanging over us.

“Locking her in for her safety and putting a group of horny, nasty old men in there to rape her are a bit fucking different, brother,” Keir spat out, the memories of her explanation going through my head again until I shoved them away.

We were silent as we drove downtown to a Family bar, which also happened to be where Joseph, our intel specialist, preferred to work. The back room had been converted into his surveillance base. Screens lined two walls, and huge cooling fans kept the room from being an oven. A conference table sat in the middle, large enough to host at least my brothers and me along with a few spare seats. He’d equipped the room with a projector so he could show us what he was explaining, which was much easier than us crowding around his computer during our usual meetings. Recently, he’d been following the Lachs’ movements, and after the hand and the information we’d gotten, I was eager to hear his update.

“Hey, bosses! Can I get ya the usual?” Greg called out as we walked into the building. He was Joe’s brother and his opposite in every way. From the boisterous voice and loud clothes to the outgoing career choice and personality.

“A whole fuckin’ bottle today, Greg,” Keir yelled over the noise, heading for the back room. As per usual, Greg wouldn’t be far behind us with the drinks.

“Welcome,” was all Joe said as we walked in and took our usual seats. He was typing away at his computer, periodically shoving his unruly black curls from his face. His general appearance was disheveled like he’d worked all night, and he probably had. He was the type to get a bit obsessive when he had a task, so we always knew we could count on him. The three of us waited in tense silence, lingering feelings from our conversation with Sana piled on top of our anticipation of hearing what he’d found. I wouldn’t allow most people to ignore me, but Joe wasn’t exactly the most socially adept, so we made an exception. Plus, no one could run intel like him. With his talent, some social awkwardness could easily be forgiven.

When he finally turned around, Greg was bringing in the whiskey and glasses, setting them down then ducking out. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the things we dealt with, so he stayed on the legal end of things, running the bar and providing drinks when we needed them.

“Alright, so the Lachs tried and failed to get the weapons shipment. They’ve been popping in and out of the scene, it seems. And the attack on Sana’s shop? We found footage of two of them approaching the shop, but I couldn’t identify faces since they wore masks. However, we’ve monitored just about every in and out of anyone associated with them, and all is quiet. Something is brewing… This isn’t their usual behavior, and I doubt they’ve just backed off for no reason,” he concluded.

“And what of the shooters?” Keir asked pointedly. Joe looked away from us, nervously scratching at the back of his head.