“She’s dead,” I tell her, looking down at the bottle in my hand.
Rage doesn’t react because Rage doesn’t react. She lifts her chin and waits for me to continue.
I sigh. “Short version is that I found her in a pool of her own fucking blood. Hacked to bits. Couldn’t for the life of me figure out who did it until I got a lead from Griff. Frank Helburn, a hacker scumbag, is the one who did it although I have no clue why. The girl in the back room? She’s his kid. Using her to flush her old man out.”
“That all?” She asks, knowing me better than I know my fucking self.
I shake my head and light yet another smoke and take an even bigger swig of whiskey. “Nope. That’s not all. Morgan…she was carrying my kid.”
“So, this is a revenge mission,” Rage states, swinging her legs. There is no apology from her lips because Rage isn’t sorry. She didn’t know Morgan and she isn’t built that way.
It’s comforting in a way. It’s familiar. And shit if I need her pity or anyone else’s.