read his body language. His dark hair was tousled from his habit of running his fingers through it as he contemplated. With one hand holding tight to his phone and the other grasping the back of his neck, bulging his bicep beneath his light-gray starched shirt with his sleeves rolled up, tension radiated off of him. Like a cloud filled with various emotions, duties, and responsibilities, it surrounded him.
I understood.
He, his world, and his people had been threatened.
In all my years at Sparrow’s side, never had anyone or any entity taken the liberty to infiltrate our most secured and loved members. Sparrow had meant what he said when he told Marsha and Sam they were important to the Sparrow outfit. The man I was seeing near the far hallway knew he wouldn’t have his power without the devotion of those who served him and believed in his cause.
Recalling Sam’s offer and Marsha’s determination, I realized something I sometimes forgot or maybe I took for granted. Patrick, Mason, and I weren’t the exception; we were the chosen Sparrows, but our dedication and loyalty wasn’t ours alone. Sterling Sparrow had employees who were devoted beyond a paycheck. Those men and women on the street did what they did, day in and day out, because they believe in what Sterling Sparrow stands for.
Yes, the Sparrow world operated in the gray of legalities—that area between black and white. However, it took a delicate balance to keep Chicago and beyond operating in such a way that businesses in the shadows of illegality could coexist with the legal ones. It took determination to keep some enterprises like human trafficking away from our city while allowing others to operate.
Earlier, hearing Sparrow relay his concern, as well as his knowledge of both Sam and Marsha, reminded me that while those of us in the tower saw the real Sterling Sparrow, those out on the streets and in the trenches had every reason to believe that as individuals they mattered to the king. They weren’t a forgotten name or number nor were they an unknown, disposable commodity. They cared about him—and his niece—because he knew and cared about them.
Sparrow stalked my direction. “Mason is on his way back.”
“Where was he?”
“Sounds like a fucking wild goose chase or setup. Once Ruby is safe in the penthouse, we’re gathering and getting a fucking handle on whatever is happening.”
“I think we should tell more of the Sparrows on the street what’s happening. I have the cameras, but nothing beats eyes and ears. Someone is trying to hurt us, and I think Sam and Marsha just showed us that the Sparrows care. We need to involve more of them.”
Sparrow pinched the bridge of his nose as his eyes momentarily closed. “It’s worth discussing.” He looked up. “I want to book a trip to DC and according to Mason, Walters wants you there.”
“So Mason will handle the command center or are we waiting for Patrick to get back?”
“Fuck,” he muttered. His scowl softened as he looked at the phone in his hand. “Ruby is here. Sam and Marsha are bringing her to 1. We’ll get her from there.”
“Who else is on 1? I don’t think letting anyone see her is a good idea.”
Sparrow nodded as he typed a text. “Clearing the entry and hallway to conference room two. You and I will meet them there and take Ruby up to the penthouse.”
Other Sparrows couldn’t access 2. One also didn’t connect to our private garage, apartments, or the penthouse. It was very secure. Of that we had no doubt. No one but one of us four could move Ruby from 1 to 2, and then up to the penthouse.
Lorna
“Reid just called,” I said, looking up at Laurel and Araneae. “Dr. Dixon is almost to the garage. He’s giving her straight access to the penthouse, and” —I felt my cheeks rise— “Ruby is on 1. He and Sparrow will bring her up.”
“Is she still unconscious?” Laurel asked.
“I don’t know.”
The three of us headed upstairs to get a room ready for Ruby.
“There,” Araneae said, pulling back the covers on the bed in a spare bedroom of the penthouse. “This is the room where Ruby slept when she first came to the tower.”
I nodded. “I think she’ll be comfortable.” I turned to Laurel. “Have you seen Araneae’s nursery?”
Her blue eyes opened wide. “Yes, but not since the furniture arrived.”
Araneae smiled as her head shook. “It’s not as complete as I’d like, but if you haven’t noticed, things have