them, and word is that it’s a woman. One of the strippers.”
James’s shoulders slumped and he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck. I’d hoped it wasn’t.”
“Why?” The question was out before he could think better of it.
The man’s expression was bleak. “Do you know the types of girls my brother staffed that place with?” He went on before Teague could answer. “Runaways. Girls—and I do mean girls, not women—who came stateside on the promise of a dream. Most of them wouldn’t have chosen that for themselves.”
It was all too easy to imagine his sisters there, helpless and doing their damnedest to survive. How long before one of them broke and lashed back? Sloan might take it until it killed her. She was the type to keep her head down until she was in danger of breaking. Keira…How long until the fire inside her that he loved so much was doused? And Carrigan…
He set her beer down carefully. Carrigan would stick a broken bottle in someone the first chance she got. He studied James, trying to figure out where he was going with this. “What are you saying?”
“If one of those girls killed my brother, she’s long gone by now.” He looked away, his voice so low, Teague almost convinced himself he was imagining the next words. “And maybe Brendan got what he deserved.”
As much as he understood the sentiment—he would have killed Brendan himself if he tried to lay a hand on Teague’s sisters—knowing that didn’t solve the current issue. He cleared his throat. “If I can find the person who did it, will your father pull back?”
James sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I can’t guarantee anything, but being able to get his vengeance might be enough to make him hold off punishing the insult of your marriage.”
He tapped the table. “I get that you have mixed feelings about this, but I’ll do damn near anything to stop this war from escalating before someone does something they can’t take back.”
“Even if it means some poor girl who might have just been defending herself is going to die?”
Teague stared at the wall, trying to come up with an answer that wasn’t cold and heartless and completely self-serving. If he were a better man, he’d let this search go. His father’s men were better equipped to deal with the inevitable violence of war than some runaway who’d gotten in over her head. But war never came without collateral damage, and it was the thought of one of his younger siblings or, worse in some ways, Callie, being hurt that had him turning back to James. “Yes.”
He was a bastard and a half for sacrificing a woman who was likely already a victim for the sake of those he loved, but he’d own that.
“Cold.” James finished his beer. “I can’t promise anything and I don’t particularly support this, but there’s a chance it would be enough for my old man. A chance, Teague. I can’t guarantee anything.”
It wasn’t the firm agreement he’d wanted, but a chance was better than being turned down flat. There wasn’t much he could bring to the table as leverage, so he had to work with what he had. “I have to do whatever it takes to put a stop to this.”
“Yeah, I know.” He didn’t look too happy about it.
Teague drained his beer and set it back on the table. “It was good seeing you—though I wish it were under better circumstances.”
James’s smile was brief and more than a little bitter. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? There are no better circumstances.”
He nodded, because the man was right. This was their lot in life. At least it had perks from time to time, though he would have given them up in a heartbeat for some office job that he was able to leave behind when he came home and a family whose biggest drama was his parents not liking one of his sister’s boyfriends. But that was a pipe dream that would never be realized.
He had to deal with facts, and right now that meant minimizing the damage Victor Halloran was inclined to do. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Wish I could say I look forward to it.”
Teague turned and walked through the bar. There were more men than there had been when he came in, and every single one of them followed his movements over the rim of their drinks. The small hairs on the back of his neck rose, and he had to make an effort to