Chapter 21

Dalton

“Welcome to Jacksonville, folks! The current time is nine-oh-five p.m., the temperature is at a balmy…” I drowned out the captain’s voice as our flight made its final descent toward the tarmac.

It had been a charged couple of days, filled with meetings with Canadian agencies that had me jumping through hoops due to their red tape processes. One thing I had to hand to our northern neighbors was that they sure knew how to run a tight ship. Where they failed however, was that their government was unable to send anyone into a foreign territory to investigate. They had informants within the Juan Cartel, just simply not in Enrique Ortiz’s pocket. I now saw why Wentworth needed an external source to help him out.

With that said, I had another set of worries on my hands, thanks to Brycen and what he’d informed me of this morning, right before take-off.

To say I was incensed would be an understatement. I wanted this plane of ours to land like yesterday so I could give my woman a piece of my mind.

As soon as the plane had circled the runway, parked at the gate, and the seatbelt sign light turned off, I was up on my feet, making my way toward the exit.

Thirty minutes later, I was at Devolin’s apartment building, being let in by what I surmised as one of the place’s residents, and on my way up the elevator.

When I got there, however, no amount of loud banging on her door made her answer, which now had me more worried than pissed off.

I whipped out my phone.

Me: Where are you?

I saw the bubbles indicating that she was writing something, which filled me with relief. It was late enough that I knew she wouldn’t be at the office, but where else could she be? She was supposed to be having dinner with Skylar.

Pulling up my sister’s contact information, I typed away.

Me: You still with Dev?

I flicked back to my text to Devolin, only to find nothing and the bubbles had disappeared.

Sky: Why?

Me: Because I’m at her place, no one’s here like you said you would be. It’s Wednesday, is it not?

A few seconds later…

Sky: McAskill’s.

Fuck!

Me: What do you mean McAskill’s? You two were supposed to be here!

Seconds later, I got a message notification from Devolin herself.

Devolin: I’m fine. Glad you’re back. I’ll see you tomorrow.

She was fine? She was glad I was back? She’d see me tomorrow?

What in the ever-loving fuck?

I could tan her sweet, innocent ass right now. Maybe that’s what I would do when I found her.

Turning from her door, I headed for the stairs. I had to work off my frustrations before I saw the woman, or I’d be liable to do some serious damage.

Locating the two women as soon as I arrived at McAskill’s hadn’t been a hard task. All I had to do was sniff out the testosterone.

Loud whooping could be heard as some preppy guy, who looked like he was still in college, walked out from the gathering, shoulders hunched.

“Right! Now which one of you’s next?” I’d recognize that voice anywhere. The you was slurred, but it had come from none other than Tamara, one of Skylar’s friends. I groaned. If Tamara was part of the pack, I smelled trouble.

Nudging some of the men to the side, I made my way to the front of the group, sticking my fingers in my mouth and blowing a shrill whistle.

Three female heads turned to face me, making me smirk at their startled expressions. It was the shocked one on Devolin’s face, however, that humored me the most.

“I’ll play.”

“Brother—” Skylar started, but I lifted my hand to silence her as I made my way to Devolin, whose gaze was fused to mine. A twinkle of fear mixed with a spark of defiance shone in them. Some of the male population cleared out and went back to what they’d been doing.

“Get me a beer, will ya, sis?” Without looking her way, I took the cue from my half-sister’s hands, my gaze never straying from Devolin’s now wide-eyed one.

“Kip,” she breathed. If it hadn’t been for the subtle glaze in her eyes, I’d have said she was now completely stone cold sober. “I—”

“You’re in deep shit already, sweetheart.” I pecked her nose because I simply couldn’t help myself. “But after I school you in this game, I’m taking you home, and we’re having a little chat about what you’ve been up to these last few days.”

Brows furrowing, eyes narrowed, her expression turned to one I’d recognize anywhere: sheer pissed off female with a bone to pick.

“Who do you think—?”

I grabbed onto the finger she was poking me in the chest with and stared her down. “I wouldn’t push me if I were you,” I warned. “You’ve already earned yourself five. You want to earn yourself ten, or even fifteen, that’s fine by me. My hand can go all night, babe.”

Her mouth snapped shut, her face grew red, then she schooled her features, set her cue on the table’s edge and proceeded to rack the balls mumbling, “Neanderthal”. She might have thought that she’d said it low enough not to be heard over the music; she was wrong.

I snorted my annoyance. “I can always take you home now.”

“You’re not taking me anywhere.” She kept on shoving balls in the rack violently without looking at me. “Not tonight.” Ball shoved. “Not tomorrow.” More balls shoved. “Not any time until you tell me what the fuck crawled up your ass and died!”