Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
It was possible that was all there was to it, but Aiden had seen the footage of the front of their townhouse. She’d climbed out of the backseat, her clothes a fumbled mess, and the look on her face as Romanov had driven off…
Aiden didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.
But he couldn’t do a single damn thing if Keira wouldn’t talk to him. “Did he…Did he hurt you?”
“Hurt…” She blinked those hazel eyes at him, and then laughed. “Oh my God, are you asking if he raped me? Does that word bother you, big brother? Rape.”
He gripped the edge of the desk, trying to keep his temper and figure out if she was attempting to provoke a response because she was pissed at him, or because she actually had been hurt. “Answer the fucking question, Keira.”
She pushed to her feet and shoved her hair back. “No, he didn’t rape me. Fuck, Aiden. Stop trying to pretend that you’re this ultimate protector, Seamus 2.0. You’re not. You’re worse than our father is.” She shoved past Liam, but stopped in the doorway. “And Dmitri Romanov didn’t lay a hand on me, though I would have gladly fucked him just to wipe that goddamn look off your face.”
She slammed the door shut, leaving him staring at her, her accusation ringing in his ears.
Fuck. Just…fuck.
He sat back. I have to do something about Romanov, sooner rather than later. That, at least, was a problem he could theoretically fix. He didn’t know how to fix his sister, how to fix his broken family.
She was right. He wasn’t their father. He didn’t know how to be.
Things would be easier if he could detach the way Seamus did. If he were more ruthless, he would have brought Sloan back into the fold by now, would have ground out the last of Keira’s rebellion, would have eliminated their enemies one by one until no one stood strong enough to threaten them.
Instead, he’d chosen to go about things in a less direct way. He motioned to Liam. “What have you got?”
“Your brother didn’t manage to bring Sloan back. He went to Washington with eight men, and he’s coming back with eight men, but several are injured.”
Judging from what they’d discovered about Jude MacNamara in the time since Sloan told Teague who she was running with, he didn’t find that surprising. The man had to be good at what he did if he’d survived as long as he had. Mediocre hit men didn’t last long before someone put them out of their misery.
Aiden drummed his fingers on the desk. “It’s time I had a conversation with my brother.” Teague wouldn’t like hearing that they’d tapped his phone, but that was too fucking bad. Aiden didn’t like that Teague was informing for the goddamn FBI. It was time to address that, too.
“There’s more.”
Of course there was. He raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”
Liam gave a tight smile. “Carrigan and James Halloran just landed on a private airstrip north of the city—with Sloan.”
He should have known Sloan wouldn’t call him for help—especially when it appeared Teague was trying to do the noble thing and retrieve her despite her wishes. She wouldn’t trust Aiden. But she apparently did trust their sister. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
He drummed his fingers faster, considering the implications. Sloan wouldn’t have come back here without a reason. As great as it’d be to think that she was coming home, he knew better. This had to do with the man she’d chosen for her own. First Carrigan and now Sloan. God only knows who Keira is going to fall for when the time comes.
“I think it’s time MacNamara and I had a chat.”
“I figured you’d want to eventually.” Liam pulled a card out of his jacket pocket. It was blank except for a number scrawled across it. “I took the liberty of tracking down his contact information.”
“I don’t pay you enough.”
“You’re welcome to give me a raise.”
He snorted. “Consider it done.” There was no point in waiting to contact MacNamara. If Sloan was back in Boston, he doubted the man was far behind her. They wouldn’t have extracted themselves from Teague’s grasp just to go their separate ways.
He dialed, half expecting the man not to answer. Instead, a gruff voice came onto the line. “Who the fuck is this?”
No point in beating around the bush. “Aiden O’Malley.”
“Jesus Christ, you O’Malley men are like cockroaches. How’d you get this number?” Jude cursed. “Scratch that. I don’t give a fuck. What do you want?”
“Tell me why you’re in Boston.”
“Or what?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Aiden had known it would come down to this. Sloan had left of her own free will, even if she’d had Teague’s help. Aiden wasn’t Teague. He didn’t see the best in people, and he sure as fuck didn’t have a white knight complex. Which is why he believed his sister when she said she chose Jude MacNamara. Sloan might be sheltered, she might be as innocent as one of their family could get, but she’d sounded alive for the first time since Devlin died.