“Yes. I have to. I must.”
She took another step into the dark living room. Even in the moonlight, he could see the anguish contorting her features. “Then let me come with you.”
“Sorry, kid. That won’t work. It has to be me. Me alone.”
She went rigid. “Why not?”
“I’m the only one he won’t kill on sight.”
For a long moment, she didn’t say a word. They stared at each other in the darkness, thinking the things neither of them could say out loud.
“I need you here. She needs you.”
He didn’t need to say who. They both knew.
“Okay, Wolverine,” she said finally. “I trust you. So, okay.”
He blinked, startled at the strength of the emotion surging in his chest. How badly he wanted to stay, to choose a different path.
To watch this sixteen-year-old girl grow into the seasoned warrior she was destined to become.
“Protect her,” Liam said. “Protect them.”
Quinn lifted her chin. “I will.”
52
The General
Day One Hundred and Fourteen
The General stood before the window, spine erect, hands clasped at the small of his back. It was a regal stance. Imposing. Victorious.
An excellent pose for the cover of a bestselling book destined to become a classic.
The Governor of Michigan was dead.
This time tomorrow, the General would have control of Fall Creek. Liam Coleman’s corpse would be strung on a wall. His great-granddaughter would be his to mold.
And the Syndicate would be in his sights.
Because the General had convinced Governor Duffield to defy federal orders and keep their military resources local, Michigan was the only state in the Midwest with an army strong enough to put Poe down.
The Syndicate had done his dirty work for him, as intended. Poe had come to the end of his usefulness.
With Poe gone, Illinois and Indiana would beg Michigan to step in and restore order. Which the General would be happy to do—for a price.
By the time Lauren Eubanks was officially the governor, she’d be on her knees, answering to him.
The General called Poe on his sat phone.
Time to set up the trap he had planned.
Poe didn’t bother to say hello. “I think this will be the last time I accept your call, General.”
The General stiffened. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You’ve let a fox into the henhouse, Byron. A fox does what he does.”
“You promised to stay out of Michigan.”
“I don’t recall that little detail.”
“Michigan is mine!” the General snarled. “You have the entire Midwest!”
“Do I? Because I sense that I’ve grown too large for my fishbowl.”
The General ground his teeth. Poe was smarter than the General had given him credit for. He was figuring out the bigger picture.
“Not so malleable as you first thought, eh? I’m smart. Smarter than you, old man.”
The General simmered with rage. How dare this low-life scumbag insinuate he was anywhere near the General’s intellectual or strategic equal?
Poe was an elegant thug, nothing more.
“You’d be happy if I disappeared, wouldn’t you? I’ve served my purpose. To you. But Byron, I have bigger plans than you could even imagine. This country is ripe for exploitation. If not me, it would be someone else. A dozen warring gangs clashing across the Midwest, slaughtering each other and everyone else. Or an entire region under lock and key, rich in resources for men like me. People are resources. I don’t waste them.”
The General’s lip curled in distaste. Not at Poe’s implications, which the General agreed with, but at his snide, disrespectful tone.
“Don’t forget, I can destroy you. With one order, with one—”
“I’m calling your bluff,” Poe said evenly. “Michigan is mine.”
“You stupid son of a—”
“I adore Michigan,” Poe said with that simpering, indulgent tone, like he was laughing at the General, mocking him. “The fruit belt of the southwest counties along the coast. It’s also some of the best wine country in the nation. I appreciate fine wine, you know. I’ve heard you have similar tastes.”
“Don’t compare yourself to me, you little maggot! You’re nothing but a slumlord, a gangster thug dressing himself up with pretty words, playing at power. You don’t have real power. You’ll never have power—”
“Fear is power,” Poe said. “And right now, you fear me.”