Page 59 of Dark Wolf Soul
“Did you get cups?” Mia asks though the annoyance in her tone says she knows the answer.
“Uh,” Razor says, clearly at a loss.
“Don’t need ‘em,” Dutch says and then tips the bottle back, drinking straight from it. He swallows and then hands it off to Crow, who does the same.
Up front, Grey clears his throat, and Razor quickly takes a seat behind Dutch on the wall’s edge.
“Dutch,” Grey prompts when no one speaks. “You want to tell me why the fuck you called this meeting behind my back?”
“Because you wouldn’t agree to it, and it needed to happen,” Dutch says as if that explains—and excuses—everything.
“I can’t agree to planning a coup,” Grey snaps.
I jerk my gaze to his. A coup?
“You sure she should be here for this conversation,” Razor says, nodding at me.
Mia tries passing me the bottle of whiskey, but I shake my head, too caught up in the conversation.
“She’s the reason we can’t wait to have this conversation,” Ramsey says, and I look over at him, surprised he’s defending me considering he’s just met me. But he merely takes the bottle Mia passes him and swigs generously.
“Vincenzo’s going to be pissed,” Razor says, but he’s grinning wildly.
Crow snorts, eyes gleaming with glee. “Understatement.”
“Maybe we can keep the full details from him a bit longer,” Dutch says, looking up at Grey.
Ramsey shakes his head. “It took out half a block in the center of the city. We can’t hide this.” He slides a case from his pocket, opens it, and picks a thin cigar from inside, which he promptly lights.
“Trust me,” Mia says firmly, “He already knows.”
“He knows we went against him by letting Lexi meet with the old man,” Dutch says. “But he doesn’t know we’re setting Grey up to take his place.”
“Don’t start with this shit again,” Grey says.
“What are you going to do about it?” Razor challenges. “Leave again?”
“Bro,” Dutch says, shaking his head.
Grey doesn’t deny it, though.
I pull my knees up to my chest, feeling like an intruder amidst their heated conversation. The heavy scent of Ramsey’s cigar fills my nostrils, mixing with the faint aroma of the expensive whiskey they’re passing around.
Grey’s expression has grown tighter and more closed off since the discussion began. I can tell he doesn’t like what they’re suggesting, but he doesn’t order them to shut up, either.
Beside him, Dutch and Crow are both slouched and relaxed, as if they couldn’t care less what Vincenzo knows or does about it. Beside me, Ramsey exudes confidence and determination while Razor’s impulsive excitement is written plainly on his sharply angled face. Mia still sits straight, perched on the front edge of her chair. She drinks when the bottle comes around again, her piercing gaze fixed on Grey.
“You can’t keep running from this,” she says when the group falls silent.
I half-expect Grey to snap back at her. Instead, he runs a hand through his dark, tousled hair, and his gaze shifts uncertainly between his companions.
“I've told you all before; I don't want any part in the family business. It's not the life I envisioned for myself.”
Dutch looks up at him in solemn sincerity. “We understand, brother, you know we do. But you're the only one capable of leading us. You've got the brains and the heart to steer us in the right direction.” Crow grunts an agreement at that. “And you’ve got the cool head to keep us from getting ourselves killed in the process.”
Ramsey and Razor exchange a grin at the last part.
Mia's voice cuts through the air like a razor. “Look, you may not have chosen this life, but you’re a part of it, like it or not. And you’re a part of us. Even if you leave again when this is all over, we’re not going anywhere. This city is ours to burn or to save.”
