“How do you know?”
“Because I know that man would lay down his life for you in a heartbeat. He’s just never said the words out loud to you yet.”
“Thank fuck,” I sighed. “Now give me a name.”
Eric looked between Ayda and me, the pause he was creating more dramatic than he intended it to be.
Just give me the name.
Give me the name.
The name.
Say it.
“Owen Sinclair,” Eric breathed.
Chapter Thirty-One
AYDA
Drew, Eric, and I had retreated to Drew’s office knowing that if we stayed outside much longer, we’d be discovered. I was on the couch in Drew’s office, my legs tucked up under me as I watched him stalk from one side of the room to the other in agitation, while Eric leaned against the shelves that held a lot of the club history. My eyes tracked Drew’s pacing, one thought pounding through my mind with every step he took.
Owen Sinclair is the rat.
Step.Owen.
Step.Sinclair.
Step.Is.
Step.The.
Step.Rat.
The more the words pounded themselves into my head, the angrier I became. There was a wild rage that boiled in the center of my chest and demanded that action be taken. It berated me for agreeing to keep quiet and follow Eric’s lead. Rats ran, that was for damn sure, but stick them on an island and surround them with water and you could drown them easily enough.
I wanted to drown Owen Sinclair.
I wanted to see him suffer.
If Harry had known about it for a year, how far back did Owen’s betrayals go? How much information had he given our enemies? Who was he feeding all of this to?
Thinking back, I could see him in almost every prevalent memory I had of The Hut. Thanksgiving. Nights in the bar, laughing and listening to stories from the past. When I was being comforted by Deeks. When we talked about anything of consequence. How often had Drew barely noticed Owen’s presence? He was in church with them every time they were sequestered. He was one of the few who had access to the books and accounts for the club and all their businesses, too.
The more I thought about it all, the more I wanted to find him and put a bullet in his forehead, and for me, that was a foreign thought and inclination to have. Except, it wasn’t. I’d always been willing to kill for Tate, even when our parents had been alive. Mom had always said that was my maternal nature, and maybe this situation was no different. These men were my family, and it was all being threatened… for what?
Well, wasn’t that the question of the hour?
I watched as Drew spun again, agitation worn clearly on his face. Eric just held his silence and observed in the same way I was.
“What now?” I asked softly.
Eric rubbed his hands together, twisting his dry palms over and over again as he watched Drew. “Not to make a point of using fancy ass words, but it’s imperative we keep this between us.”
“Lying to my men isn’t as easy for me as it is you.” Drew paced. “They are my brothers, not by blood, but by the blood we’ve shared together. If they knew I was keeping this fromthem, they’d feel as betrayed as I feel right now.”
“Honesty isn’t always for the best,” Eric said calmly.