Now
I’ve just brought the vegetables to a satisfying sizzle when I hear her. I turn from the stove, scowling at the little dark-haired girl lingering under the archway that leads into the kitchen.
“You shouldn’t be up.”
The nervousness on her face disappears, morphing into annoyance, discontent with the idea of me telling her what to do, so naturally, she steps further into the kitchen, with a limp that has me clenching my jaw.
“I’m fine,” she says with a steel resolve in her voice. “I don’t want to be in there alone.” The words are the only thing that stops me from throwing her over my shoulder and carting her back off to my room.
“Well, sit the fuck down or something.” My arm waves in exasperation toward the kitchen island stools and the dining table. I take my eye off of her to stir the sauce that’s starting to boil, due to my lack of attention to it.
“You cook?” There’s disbelief in her voice. I don’t turn around, hearing her shuffle toward the island and pull out a stool, satisfied that she’s going to sit.
A little smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. “Is that so surprising?”
She doesn’t know what to say, tripping over her words, and I turn to face her, leaning back against the counter and folding my arms across my chest to give her my full attention.
“No, I—” she starts, before she lets out a breath. “Yes,” she admits, “I guess it is.” She shrugs apologetically at me.
“A man’s gotta eat, does he not?”
“Yeah, but you’reyou.”
I tilt my head, raising my brows.What’s that supposed to mean?
She leans in, her voice low before she continues. “The head of the Irish mafia.” She whispers like it’s a secret. “I figured you’d have, I don’t know, people for that.”
I shake my head, moving to check on the vegetables roasting in the oven. “I don’t like strangers in my space. Don’t trust ‘em.”
We exchange a look during a beat of awkward silence.That rule doesn’t seem to apply to her, now does it?This will be the third time I’ve had her in the loft. There’s a flash of something in her eyes before she looks away. Guilt, maybe? I can’t tell.
“Where did you learn to cook?” she asks, pushing on with the conversation.
“Self-taught. Life’s too short to eat shit food.”
She chuckles. “I guess that’s fair.”
The elevator pings and her expression drops, alarm in her eyes, and she presses both palms to the countertop of the island like she’s ready to bolt. Her eyes meet mine—waiting for… reassurance?
“It’s just my brothers,” I tell her. “They live here too.”
Liam’s familiar loud tone greets us as he enters the loft, talking to, I’m assuming Aidan, seeing as they would have just wrapped up hockey practice together. His wife, Rory, is somewhere in the loft, though I haven’t seen her all day. My other brother Alex has been staying with us since his falling out with the Bratva. It felt good for a minute to have everyone under one roof. That is, until my sister decided to flee her “gilded prison,” setting off the chain of events that led to me getting shot and the Bratva Pakhan’s death. I sent Alex to New York to try and track her down, but so far he hasn’t had much luck, and after the text she sent me yesterday, her phone’s gone dark.
“Something smells good!” Liam proclaims loudly as he steps into the kitchen.
Briar’s head whips to the archway as my youngest brother makes his appearance.
Liam freezes at the sight of Briar sitting at the kitchen island. They met the night I took her from Gio, and he saw her again at the meeting at The Sovereign, but they haven’t been formally introduced.
“Oh, hello?” His eyes dart my way, and I shoot him a look, silently warning him tobehave.
He returns my glare with a look of amusement—Not a good sign—and continues waltzing into the kitchen. “How’s it hanging, mystery girl?”
Mystery girl?Briar mouths in my direction, and I roll my eyes, hoping my brother won’t make me regret bringing her here.
“I’m Liam.” He holds out a gigantic hand that Briar stares at for several seconds before taking it.
“Briar.” She nods, shaking his hand assertively, while making a point to look him in the eye, leading to a wide smile forming on Liam’s face.
