"You gonna tell me or make me keep playing twenty questions?" He's curious. Ronan has never met anyone with ties to the mob. It's like something out of a movie. The kind of stuff that just doesn't happen around here.

He nods and takes another drink. "It's not bad. For vodka." Ronan grew up with an Irish father. Whiskey was the drink of choice in the house. Not that he was supposed to drink but he had.

"Kavinsky." Ronan glances at him. "I'm Ronan." No one has ever looked at him like that before. Ronan swallows hard and licks his lips nervously. "I'll figure something out then." His eyes shift to the road and back again. "Where we going?"