Page 6

"If you'll excuse me, I have work to do," she says, then pauses, casting a quick, meaningful glance toward the main floor. "Besides, you should probably hurry up. Your people are getting ready to leave."

I freeze. Every bit of dark humor drains out of my blood in a fraction of a second.

Before she can take another step, my hand shoots out, planting firmly on the wall right beside her head, trapping her in the narrow space. The air between us turns ice-cold.

Alexis stiffens, her eyes widening just a fraction as she realizes what she just let slip.

"What the fuck did you just say?" my voice drops, low, rough, and lethal, all the playful teasing instantly gone.

"Nothing," she tries, bracing herself. "Just that⁠—"

"Don't lie to me," I slice through her words, leaning down until my mouth is inches from her ear. "What do you mean, my people?"

She swallows hard, realizing there’s no backing out now. She tilts her chin up, refusing to look cowed even with six-foot-four of angry Kavanagh blocking her exit.

"The three men at the velvet booth," she says, her voice steady despite her quickening breath. "Nolan and his little entourage. They're grabbing their jackets."

My jaw tightens. "Why the fuck do you think they’re my people?"

I’ve been meticulous. I don't sit at the same table every single night. I stagger my arrival times. I don't stare directly at Nolan's booth, and I sure as shit don't make it obvious. I’m a professional, trained by years of bloody work. A fucking civilian waitress isn't supposed to spot me.

"Why?" I demand again, my hazel eyes burning into hers.

Alexis gives a small, indifferent shrug, though her heart is visibly hammering against her ribs.

"You're not as subtle as you think," she says softly. "You watch Nolan a hell of a lot more than you watch that drink you order."

My teeth grind together. Fucking hell.

"Alexis!"

A man’s barked voice echoing down the service corridor breaks the spell. "I need those linens on Table Six, now!"

Alexis uses the moment of distraction to duck under my arm, stepping past me into the open hallway. She turns back for one split second, smoothing her dress, her eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of satisfaction and sudden, sharp caution.

I stand in the narrow corridor, watching her walk away.

My pulse is pounding, but not from arousal this time. Suspicion, cold and heavy, settles in my gut.

She noticed me tracking Nolan. If she picked up on me, what else has she seen? Who the fuck is she talking to? Is she just an overly observant waitress, or is she playing a game she doesn't even realize she’s in?

I smooth down my jacket, my eyes turning pitch black.

Attraction doesn't mean a goddamn thing anymore. If Alexis Hayes knows something dangerous, I’m going to find out—and if she’s a threat to my family, I’ll have to put her down.

I storm out of the back hallway and sweep into the main room, my shoes heavy against the floorboards.

I cut straight through the crowd to my table, pull out a fat wad of hundreds, and slap a stack down right beside the empty tumbler. Alexis is already standing near the adjacent booth clearing glasses.

Her dark eyes widen as she spots the size of the tip, her lips parting slightly in shock. I don't give her the satisfaction of a second look. I just hold her gaze for one razor-sharp second, letting her know this isn't over, before turning on my heel and heading for the exit.

Outside, the thick humidity hits me like a wet towel, but I don't waste time. I spot Nolan, Brendan, and Lachlan slipping through the crowd half a block down.

I fall in behind them on foot, keeping a clean fifty paces between us, melted entirely into the neon-lit shadows of the sidewalk.

The Devlin bastards are laughing, talking loud, and completely oblivious. Brendan and Lachlan haven’t been back in town in years—not even for their father’s burial months ago. Now that they’re suddenly back, I know there’s a reason for it, and whatever it is, we’re not going to like it.

We have to do something.