RONAN
I was too f*****g pissed off to think straight anymore, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard the leather was creaking under the pressure. My wolf was snarling and pacing inside my head, demanding blood and violence and revenge for what Garrett had done.
So I pulled over at a rest stop about halfway to the city and made a call I'd sworn I would never make again. I pulled up a contact in my phone that I'd kept hidden and encrypted, a number that would connect me directly to people from my past that nobody in Ghost Riders knew existed.
The line rang three times before someone picked up, a gruff male voice I recognized immediately. "Ronan? That really you calling after all this time, brother? Thought you'd forgotten all about us."
"I need something quick," I said without both
