Ragnar's POV
"What are you doing?" I asked, leaning against the damp brick wall as I watched Boca shoving a few specific tools and weapons into a heavy tactical bag in the basement.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he responded coldly, not giving me a single glance as his hands moved with practiced speed. "We have to stop Lucian from whatever the fuck he is about to do." He paused for a fraction of a second, his knuckles white against the gear.
"He has made up his mind, Boca, and you know how he gets when he sets his sight on something," I said softly, trying to inject some reality into the room. "We can only hope he comes out of this alive."
"The fuck are you talking about? You want us to just sit around and watch him take his own life?! Ragnar, I can't let that happen!" he snapped, turning to glare at me, thick annoyance and frantic fear laced in his tone.
