He kisses my forehead and walks out the door, pulling it shut.
I don’t check to see if he locked me in.
I don’t want to know.
But I tell myself this won’t be for long.
It won’t.
One day soon, I’ll finally be free.
SEVEN
declan
We havea cousin who is involved in our business. Most of Da’s family are in the business in one way or other.
Roark Murphy’s closer to Cal in age, but I remember him well. Haven’t seen him since I went home with Lucie that one time, when she needed to heal after she and Cal fell out, and her lug of a husband, my hero and brother, Cal, had to work out what he needed in his life and realized it was her. He had to figure out how to show her his love and devotion and prove that he was actually worthy of her.
He did that. He’s still doing that.
All my brothers have amazing wives. And my brothers are all working to prove their lasses chose right day after day.
With Ava…she does the same right back to Seamus. I know some crazy shit went down between them, but Seamus needs someone like her to challenge and poke and fight with—and love just as fiercely. And I think she needs someone who’ll have her back always.
I snicker.
My newest sister-in-law definitely got more than she bargained for when she married Seamus. She got the lot of us.
I pull my phone from the backpack and send a text to Roark, fill him in on what I need, and who I’m looking for.
Last I spoke with him, he was setting up a series of pubs in Ireland, England, Germany, here somewhere. All over the place.
All seemingly legit.
And all not what they seem.
He can both disappear someone or find them. It’s a skill any mafia man needs. When you don’t want your interests in something or someone known, or have them traced back, then Roark’s your man. They all have their skills, my cousins and their handpicked people, but Roark’s equally a master of finding the disappeared—and disappearing them when necessary.
He charges a crap ton for it, too.
So far Cal’s never needed to call on his services. But we’ve all been in trouble together. Fought for our lives together. Family is family.
I sit on the bench with the double cat backpack that has a small side for Bruiser and a larger space for a disgruntled Clawzilla.
“Look, I know you didn’t get your pound of wild flesh there tonight, or assert your dominance as top cat…”
Arnold looks up at me and whines while Petal sits on her hotrod wheels between his protective paws.
“But,” I say, “between us, you’re cat king of the house. Lola’s a streetwise fighter, though. I wouldn’t pick fights with him.”
My sweat-drenched shirt sticks to me, because as workouts go, this was a big run with a lot of animals.
I had a lot of…energy to work off.
“She’s a pain in the ass, guys,” I say, “but we click. There’s some good hate sex coming, and it’s clearwhoever’s been taking care of her has been doing a piss-poor job. The girl’s fucking thirsty for cock.”
I don’t need to like her to want her. If she was with this dickhead Leon, he wasn’t doing it right at all. And Marlowe isn’t a girl who passes herself around.
