Ronald’s eyes glinted with something unreadable, a shadow of a smile playing at his lips. He pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and turned to Xander. “You should probably be saying that to Yvonne, not me.”
Yvonne?
Xander barely had time to picture her—always a whirlwind, probably already chasing after Skye—before he remembered she’d run off in a storm earlier. He’d tried calling her, but her phone had gone straight to voicemail. Probably dead, knowing her.
Ronald took a sip of his coffee, the mug steaming between his hands. “So, why’d you run?”
The question soured Xander’s face; he couldn’t hide it.
“I didn’t run.”
Run? He honestly wanted to hunt Shawn Schultz down and wring his neck right now. That idiot. Did he look like the type to bail at the first sign of trouble? And yet, Shawn had grabbed him and bolted like they were escaping a burning building.
But, to be fair, Shawn did know Yvonne pretty damn well.
Sure enough, the moment Yvonne came to, all hell broke loose at Ferrowland. Dan passed out at the hospital—twice, actually. Aira took a peanut to the head for her troubles…
Ronald raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t run? Then how’d things end up like this?”
Xander sputtered. “!!”
Things had gotten out of hand, to put it mildly.
Yesterday, in the span of a single afternoon, Yvonne had sent Dan to the ER and then shot Aira—thank God it was just a paintball. But still, chaos.
Xander glared at Ronald. “You knew yesterday, didn’t you?”
That was why Ronald had said what he did at the front door. He’d seen it all coming.
Ronald set his coffee down, smiling but saying nothing.
Xander snorted. “You old fox. You planned this, didn’t you?”
Truth be told, Ronald had probably figured everything out the moment Yvonne started rounding people up for payback.
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