Page 67 of Brox Boar

BROX

I glance at Lana, standing next to us as we enter the penthouse. She’s barely holding herself together, the exhaustion written all over her face. Her eyes are half lidded, there’s a beautiful fragility in her now, one that wasn’t there when we first brought her into our world.

Shiaou is already waiting for us, he knows exactly what needs to be done before we ask for it.

“I’ll take care of her,” he says calmly. “I’ve already started the bath.”

Lana barely acknowledges him. Her steps are slow, a little unsteady, I know she’s not just physically tired. The emotional drain of everything that’s happened today, the club, the bikers, the training, she’s trying to hold it together because it’s different. And we’re trying to stay detached, although it’s hard.

I glance at Rio, and my lips press into a tight line. He’s staring at Lana, his face unreadable. I know he’s worried about her, too, but there’s nothing he can do right now. We’ve reached the point where all we can do is wait and see if she’s strong enough to push through.

The door shuts behind Lana and Shiaou, leaving the two of us alone in the quiet of the penthouse. I doubt we’ll head back downstairs. This is it for tonight.

I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out my cell, knowing full well what I read earlier. An email from Waddington. It’s the last thing I want to deal with right now, but I can’t put it off any longer. I swipe it open, my eyes scanning the screen for the second time. The message is straightforward, almost too simple for what it means.

“We didn’t find anything under the name Boar. Suspecting the real name is Boaru. Likely linked to the Romanian mafia in Chicago. We’ll continue searching and get back to you.”

I feel the tension creeping through my muscles. I hand the cell over to Rio without saying anything, watching his face as he reads the message. His expression is a mask, but I can see the lines of concern beneath it.

“Romanian mafia,” Rio mutters under his breath as he hands me the cell back, deep in thought.

“I’m going to Chicago,” I say. It feels like the only logical step. I can’t sit here waiting for more information. I need to move, to act.

Rio’s gaze snaps to mine, his eyebrows furrowing. “You’re not serious?”

“I am,” I reply.

“For fuck’s sake, Brox. Let Waddington do his job.”

“I want to know, Rio. I need to know. What about you?”

“I want to know, too.” Rio exhales. “You know I do.”

“We can’t go together.” I remind him.

“Why not?” He snorts, the frustration in his eyes clear.

“Because we got too many problems. Starting with Alessio. And I’ve had the job of being his babysitter before.” I remind him. “Someone needs to hold down the fort.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Rio exhales sharply, nodding. “Fine. But you watch your back, you hear me?”

“I’ll be fine.” I assure him.

We both turn at the sound of the door opening behind us. Lana steps out of the bedroom, wrapped in a thick towel. Her hair is still damp, droplets of water falling onto her shoulders as she moves.

“Hungry?” Shiaou’s behind her, and he’s already anticipated this, of course. A small tray of food sits on the kitchen counter, warm and inviting. He picks it up and takes it to her.

She sits on the sofa, next to Rio, and takes the tray with food from Shiaou’s hands.

“Thank you,” she smiles as she sits, pulling the towel tighter around her body.

“You did good today, Princess,” Rio drawls.

“Do I get a reward?” she asks, glancing at both of us, her voice naïve.

I lean forward from my chair, my lips curling slightly. “Being in the Boarpit is a reward, cupcake. Getting fucked is the reward.”

She raises an eyebrow, her lips quirk into a faint smile. “I’ll take that.”