Chapter 3
3
DAIRE REARDON
I had a first-class ticket to hell, I was sure of it. I’d have front-row seats and be known as the sinner of all sinners. Well... maybe it wasn’t that bad, but it didn’t seem that great, either.
If I closed my eyes, I could still see Fionn crying yesterday.
Subtle tears broke the walls of his lashes to slide delicately down his pale cheeks, only to drop to their death from his sharp chin. His plump lips trembled as he stared up toward the ceiling, so close to the breaking point that only a thin tether of control kept him where he was. I’d never seen such an erotic sight. Fionn’s beauty was breathtaking already, but his vulnerability made him damned near irresistible.
Groaning, I shook my head and stared at myself in the full-length mirror in my bedroom. I wore a black suit, custom designed to fit my body perfectly, with a red tie that I’d stuffed into a black vest. My shoes were freshly polished and my hair was styled. I appeared professional, like a Company man. Sloan expected us to always look our best, and as second-in-command—or third, if you counted Fionn as the apprentice—I needed to impress, to be the man who caught everyone’s attention as I strolled down the sidewalk like I owned it, because in a way, I did .
The Killough Company controlled the East Coast, and a large portion of that power was given to me to wield. When Sloan wasn’t around, it was my job to manage our many employees and business partners.
Last night’s meeting hadn’t been anything unusual. Sloan had updated us about Reyes’s movements and what we could expect from the Cartel. They were one of our biggest rivals, along with the Russians. Sloan had always hated Thiago Reyes, and it was for good reason, too.
Bang.
I froze and went on high alert when something clattered downstairs in my condo. The hair on my arms rose as I stalked to my closet and grabbed the gun I kept on a shelf. After checking to make sure the chamber was loaded, I clutched the Glock firmly as I snuck out of my bedroom and down the black steel stairs, taking each step carefully and quietly. I paused to glance around the corner into the kitchen, exhaling through my nose as I readied to shoot if need be, but the moment my gaze fell on a familiar back, I grunted and dropped the gun to my side.
“What are you doing here?” I strode the rest of the way toward the kitchen and placed the Glock on the round glass dining table. “Do you have a death wish? Sloan banned you from New York.”
Aodhan, my older brother, turned from where he stood in front of the counter and grinned. Wearing a white dress shirt, he had his tie draped around his neck. His suit jacket hung over the back of a chair near the table, and he looked cocky as usual. “Did he? I can’t remember that. Oh, wait.... Yeah, I do remember, but I just don’t care.”
I rolled my eyes and rubbed my forehead in frustration. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
Aodhan shrugged and moved his head from side to side, the ugly sound of his neck cracking making me wince. I fucking hated when he did that shit, and he knew it. “It would be fun to see him try.”
I kicked out one of the chairs at the table and took a seat. Peering at my brother carefully, I studied the hard lines of his face. Aodhan and I looked alike in a lot of ways. There was no mistaking we were related. Unfortunately for me, Aodhan was taller and wider, with a more defined jaw and thinner mouth. His messy dark hair was only one of his many features that had women and men swooning, and as far as I was aware, Aodhan could have anyone he wanted.
And he did.
He had no quarrels with fucking anything that moved. I knew for a fact he’d fucked Ardan, at the very least, and probably a few more guys in the Company.
“Why are you here?” I asked again, leaning back against the chair and throwing a leg over my knee. “The only reason you’re alive right now is because Sloan respects me.”
Aodhan laughed abruptly. “And here I thought he respected me .”
I sighed. “Aodhan . . . .”
He blatantly ignored me, continuing with what he was doing before I’d come downstairs, and I took a moment to consider him. He was messing with one of my favorite mugs, stirring whatever was inside it with a spoon. He hummed a tune quietly.
“At least tell me what you’re doing.”
Aodhan sent me a grin. “I’m making tea. I spent a few years in Scotland, you remember, and I took a shine to the UK’s English breakfast tea. It’s a shame you don’t own a kettle. I liked that fancy little device, too.”
“You can buy them here.” I ran a hand over the back of my neck and sighed. “I’m serious, though. You need to tell me why you’re here.”
He turned toward me and leaned his ass against the counter. The smug smile curling his lips gave me a bad feeling, I knew my brother too well. Nothing stopped him from doing what he wanted, not even me begging him not to do something he would regret. “I was bored.”
“You were bored?” I stared incredulously at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He laughed. “You know the rules of your master. No swearing.”
I glared. “Fuck off with your smart-ass comments.”
He shrugged and grabbed his mug from the counter. Taking a sip, he moaned in appreciation. “There’s nothing better than good tea.” His gaze turned wicked. “Except good sex. Are you still fucking Killough’s nephew?”
I shook my head, refusing to give him an answer. I’d made the mistake of telling Aodhan about what happened between Fionn and me all those years ago, and now I regretted opening my mouth. Aodhan made sure to bring it up every chance he got, and it constantly reminded me of how different we were, even though we looked so alike. My brother enjoyed the thrill of danger and fucked everyone in his path. He lived for the risk, while I had to be the perfect rule follower for our parents.
A whine came from my left, and I glanced toward the laundry room door. My two Dobermans walked out lazily, ears floppy and movements languid. Sinead—all black with a couple patches of brown—bowed the front half of her body in a stretch, yawning wide, while her sister, Oona—who had more brown than Sinead—tilted her head in confusion, looking between Aodhan and me.
“What kind of guard dogs are you?” I asked.
Aodhan snorted. “Don’t be too hard on them. They came to check out who I was, but these girls love me, don’t they?” He crouched, and the dogs rushed over to him for ear scratches and pets.
I rolled my eyes but kept my mouth shut. It made sense that the dogs liked him because everyone else did. Well, nearly everyone else. Sloan hated Aodhan’s guts, and he had a perfectly good reason for it, too. But, Aodhan had always been a shit stirrer, and if he could get one over on Sloan, he would.
I rose to my feet and smoothed my hands down my suit jacket. “If he decides to kill you, I’m not saving your ass this time.”
“Don’t need you to,” he said with a shrug as he rose to grab his cup of tea again.
“Do I want to know how you got past my security system?”
“There’s no security in the world that can stop me. You know that.” He winked.
I did, unfortunately. That was what made him a perfect hit man, and his skills had taken him across the globe. The Society, a secret organization of assassins and hit men, wanted him in their ranks, but he’d brushed off multiple offers. He might even give Ardan Murphy a run for his money if it came down to it.
“Lock the door when you leave,” I said nonchalantly as I slid the Glock into the holster in my jacket. I grabbed my keys from the counter that separated the kitchen from the open-plan living room and gave him a single-finger wave before I left out the front door and went to the elevator. There were twenty-five floors in the condo building, and I had the penthouse, giving me the perfect bird’s-eye view of New York City. Buying the place had been expensive but worth it. I was in Manhattan, and anything I needed was minutes away... except Fionn.
Growling at the thought, I smashed the button in the elevator that took me to the garage, and once the doors opened, I stalked out and headed toward my motorcycle. Sleek, sporty, and pure black like the rest of my aesthetic, my bike was a Ducati Diavel 1260, and it was one of my most beloved possessions. I bought it four years ago, and the bike was the one thing I’d done for myself that my parents wouldn’t support. It was sadly amusing that I relied on their approval, while Aodhan went about his day doing all the things they hated without a hint of criticism.
I grabbed my helmet off the bike and shoved it onto my head before hitting the ignition. The bike rumbled to life, and the vibrations moved deep into my soul, giving me a moment’s peace. The feel of the Ducati between my legs was a luxury that I relished. When I needed time to think, I got on my motorcycle and took a long ride until my head was clear.
Fionn was one of the reasons I often took a drive, and now I would spend another day with him, convincing myself that I felt nothing for the young boss to be, even though we shared our bodies with each other.
I shook my head and drove out of the underground parking garage.
The drive through the city was long and tedious, but having a Ducati meant I was able to weave around traffic in a way a car couldn’t. I took to the highway until I reached Sloan’s mansion in Southampton at 7:50 a.m.
By the time I’d taken off my helmet, laid it on the bike seat, and arrived at the steps, the front door opened. Mr. Hopper, Sloan’s loyal butler, appeared. Wearing a black suit, he stood tall and imposing with a hard stare. He had gray hair swept back off his forehead and a permanent sneer twisted his thin mouth.
“Mr. Hopper.” I greeted him with a sharp nod. “I’m here to pick up Fionn.”
Mr. Hopper’s gaze narrowed on me and he huffed, turning on his heel and leaving the door open. I followed him and stopped right inside the grand foyer, which sparkled under the wide chandelier that hung from the high ceiling.
Fionn walked down the left side of the double staircase, his black shoes dark against the white marble, although, they matched the handrails. Even though I’d only seen him last night, I couldn’t help but inhale sharply at the sight of him in an impeccable suit, designed to fit his slim swimmer’s build with perfection. He was tall, and from this angle, he reminded me a lot of Sloan. The natural brown hair he’d finally ceased to dye was the same color as Sloan’s when he didn’t bleach it. There’d been a period when Fionn had tried to be like his uncle.
“You’re on time as usual,” Fionn said, lips pursed. He narrowed his hazel eyes.
“I did say we were leaving at eight.”
“Always punctual. A good soldier.” The sarcastic tone in Fionn’s words had me tensing. He was known for his insults, but he’d never aimed them at me—another reason people suspected we were fucking. I escaped his poisonous tongue.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped, staring at me carefully. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going? I deserve to know.”
“To find a rat,” I said.
“The same rat we’ve been trying to find for over eight years? We keep getting led on chases with dead ends. Diaz was good at covering her tracks. She knew we would figure out she had an informant, and she made sure we wouldn’t learn who it was.” He shifted closer to me. “What’s different now?”
“A retirement,” I said with a shrug.
“Stop speaking in riddles,” he snapped. “I hate it when you do that.”
I chuckled. “I’m not. A detective who worked with Diaz is retiring, and with encouragement , he decided to shed some light on the situation.”
“Money, you mean.” He crossed his arms.
“Yes, money.”
Fionn frowned. “Why is he good with taking bribes now if he was clearly not okay with it before?”
“Because divorces are expensive, and when your ex-wife takes half of your retirement fund to spend it with her new, younger lover, situations change.” I tilted my head, letting Fionn comprehend what I’d said. “So, we’re going to take a drive to Mastic Beach and have a talk.”
“Mastic Beach?” Fionn poked his tongue into his cheek. “Sounds like this detective’s been taking money from someone already.”
“He has. Folliero.”
Fionn straightened as soon as I delivered the news, frown deepening. “They’re bribing cops who could give us answers and didn’t tell us? What happened to being associates?”
“Don’t worry about that right now. We’ll figure it out later. Sloan wants this rat situation settled first. It’s been going on long enough.”
Two maids walked behind Fionn and caught his attention for a short moment. He waited until they were gone before he turned his gaze back to me. “But whoever this rat is clearly hasn’t said anything else to the cops, have they? None of our other businesses have been affected.”
I hummed. He had a point. “Only because Diaz is dead, and they were probably worried about being found out. Your uncle knows there is a rat, and the rat knows he knows, so whoever this guy is, he’ll be keeping his head down. It’s why he’s been so quiet.”
“So, we chase our tails until we find answers.” He snorted. “How fun .”
I couldn’t help the smile that teased my lips, even if I’d wanted to. Fionn’s snarky replies had always amused me more than they should, and it brought out a side of myself I shouldn’t explore, the one that demanded I take Fionn over my knee for his insolence and spank him raw. While we’d been playing for eight years now, I hadn’t actually smacked his ass for being naughty yet. To me, spanking came with a type of intimacy I couldn’t explore with Fionn. I was Daddy Daire in the bedroom, but I wasn’t his Daddy, and despite what I called him, he wasn’t my boy. Not really. I pushed the thought aside. “We’ll take one of the Company cars and head out now. The traffic will be chaos.”
“When isn’t it? It’s New York.” He turned and waved his hand at Mr. Hopper. “Call a car to meet us at the front.”
Mr. Hopper nodded, but not before his mouth curled in disgust. Or, that might be his usual expression. I typically didn’t give him a second glance at the best of times. While he was good at his job and Sloan trusted him, he wasn’t the most pleasant person.
Fionn swept past me and grabbed his long wool jacket from Mr. Hopper near the front door. He slipped it on while he walked down the few steps at the front and turned back to look at me with raised eyebrows.
“Are you coming or what?”
My gaze moved down the length of his back to his ass, but there wasn’t anything to see while he had his jacket on.
Not the way I’d like to right now .
Keeping my mouth shut, I followed him outside. The frigid air had bite today, with flurries of early December snow falling from the sheet of gray clouds that hovered in the sky. Winter hadn’t seriously begun yet, but I was dreading the bad weather to come. Once it began to snow, it was extremely unlikely that I’d be able to ride my bike, and I’d have to drive my SUV instead. As much as I loved my SUV, there was nothing quite like feeling the freedom that came with riding my Ducati.
I didn’t bother to grab my helmet from my bike or move it. Everyone knew both belonged to me, and no one would dare touch them. While I was civil and rule abiding, for the most part, I was overly protective of the Ducati and that wasn’t a secret. I didn’t get angry often, but when I did, even the toughest men feared me. Except Sloan, who’d always been amused by my anger.
I glanced at the sleek black fuel tank that gleamed in the early morning sun and couldn’t help but smile. I’d worked hard for my baby, and I would raise hell if something happened to it.
“You love that thing,” Fionn commented, surprising me.
I studied him, taking in the pursed lips and tight jaw. “Yeah.”
“More than what’s good for you.” He flipped a sour look over his shoulder toward the bike.
I read the clear message twisted into the words. I’d been around his sharp tongue too long not to know what he was saying, and now that he’d turned his vitriol on me, it got to the root of the problem: my use of Fionn’s body combined with my unwillingness to go further than a physical relationship.
It’d all started at his eighteenth birthday party, where I’d been enticed by a confidence that he had never exhibited. In a moment of weakness, I’d let my need to dominate Fionn take control.
Fuck!
We’d spent years not talking about taking it further, but I knew how badly he craved something else. He wanted to be public and more . I couldn’t, though. Fionn was Eoin’s son . That should’ve been reason enough for me to stay away completely.
Sloan, in what he deemed his infinite wisdom, continued to pair us up on assignments, and I didn’t have the balls to tell Sloan the truth—that Fionn and I weren’t anything but physical.
Sloan and I were best friends, but when was the last time we’d really spoken the truth to each other about our personal lives? Too long. I’d begun pulling away when I’d fucked Fionn the first time, but Sloan had distanced himself before that. All I was useful for was to give Sloan some good advice every now and then.
Fionn’s jealousy over the Ducati was adorable, though.
Fionn snapped his fingers in front of my face, dragging me back to reality. I’d been so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t realized one of Sloan’s men had parked a beautiful black BMW in front of us. The driver slid out of the front seat and opened the back door for us, but I shook my head.
“I’ll be driving from here,” I said simply, and the driver merely bowed slightly before closing the door and disappearing up the front steps and through the entrance.
Fionn stared. “Why are you driving?”
I winked. “Because we’re finding a rat, and we don’t want any gossip about where you and I have been getting back to that person through regular conversation, do we?”
He shrugged and went straight for the front passenger side while I took the driver’s seat. When we had our seat belts on, I pressed down on the accelerator, taking us out of the round driveway. Once we hit the streets, I settled back into my seat and considered safe topics of conversation with Fionn. The more we worked together, the thicker the tension became until it felt hard to breathe. After each round of sex, his disdain grew, and I could see it happening. There was nothing reasonable I could do to make him understand without telling him the truth. I should confess everything, but I also couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Because that would be the end. And I wasn’t ready to lose him.
“Mastic Beach is no Southampton,” I said.
“I know. You can get cheap pieces of shit there, but I was right about him being paid off, wasn’t I?” He shrugged.
“Yeah, you were.” I stayed silent for a moment. “How was Sloan this morning?”
Fionn snorted and stared out the window, his elbow pressed against the glass. “Irritated as usual. Nothing I do ever makes him happy.” He paused and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “But I shouldn’t be telling you that. I need to act like the boss, right? No emotions.”
I sighed. “Sloan has a lot on his plate right now. A few years ago, not many people would have challenged him or his territory, but it seems like there are a lot more players in the game now who want to prove they can take down the big dog.”
“Right, but this will be my business eventually,” he said, turning his attention back to the side window. “I should be next to him every step of the way, but instead he sticks me with you, a man who can’t stand me except when he wants to fuck.”
“Who said I can’t stand you?” I gripped the steering wheel tightly, twisting my fists on the smooth leather. Frustration had me taking deep breaths to keep my temper in check. I’d learned ways over the years to keep my control.
He laughed abruptly. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No. Tell me who said I can’t stand you,” I snapped.
“I did.” He shot an expression of pure toxicity at me and slapped a hand against his chest hard enough to make me cringe. “You hate being around me unless you want a hole. Let’s be honest. You don’t want to acknowledge us. You barely look at me unless you want to fuck me. Am I that ugly that I fucking disgust you that much?” This time when he laughed, it sounded painful, like a wounded animal caught in a trap. “Sloan—” His laughter went higher. “—thinks we’re fucking. I can see it in his eyes, how he looks at us when we’re together. He doesn’t care. Why don’t you want me for more?”
“Fuck, Fionn.”
And just like that, the world crashed in on me.
We’d gone years without speaking about it, pretending we both wanted the same thing, and then boom . It had all changed. By the volume of the outburst, I imagined it’d been on Fionn’s mind for too long. He’d finally broken and spouted the words that had lingered on the tip of his tongue, the same ones he’d pushed back time and time again.
I didn’t know what to say or how to explain it to him without hurting his feelings.
I’d hoped to avoid this conversation forever, and that was my first mistake.
“Fuck, Fionn , ” I repeated.
“ What? ” The hurt echoed in his gaze and his jaw tightened. “You have nothing to say for yourself? Nothing at all?”
“You know we can’t take this any further. I thought we agreed on that.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” He stared. And stared. And stared. The scalding look kept going until it became uncomfortable. He wanted me to say something, and while I was a master of words most times, this wasn’t one of those moments. The situation was too delicate, and there were too many emotions.
Fionn’s eighteenth birthday party felt like yesterday. The beginning of us.
Eight Years Ago
“Kiss me.” The words were whispered so softly I could barely hear them. Fionn’s warmth was all encompassing, drawing me in like a moth to a very hot flame, and I went, ready to deal with the consequences by stepping in closer to press him against the wall.
He tilted his head back and smiled.
Desire skittered through me, swirling inside my chest and across my skin like a thousand electric currents. When was the last time I’d felt like this? I couldn’t remember. Sex was about getting off, and I’d been attracted to people, but Fionn wasn’t people . He was something entirely different.
Beautiful.
Innocent.
Untouchable.
But here I was, touching Fionn’s smooth cheek and caressing my thumb over the corner of his pouty lips.
“Kiss me,” he murmured again, fluttering long dark lashes at me. He’d recently dyed his hair a sandy blond to match Sloan’s. I’d noticed he’d tried to be more like his uncle lately, and I didn’t like it. I preferred the version of Fionn which was true to himself, dark haired and sweet.
More like . . . Eoin.
Fuck. No. Bad choice of thoughts.
“I shouldn’t.” I exhaled sharply but didn’t move away. Instead, I shifted in closer and hooked my fingers beneath his chin, tilting his head up and ghosting my lips over Fionn’s. I wanted to devour and corrupt him. “You’re too young.”
“I’m eighteen,” he said breathlessly, cupping my neck.
“I’m too old.”
“You’re Sloan’s age. That isn’t too old.”
“You’re Eoin’s son.”
“You have a father, too. Any more excuses? Or are you going to kiss me?”
I did as Fionn asked.
“There’s nothing I can say that’ll give you what you want,” I said bluntly, taking a deep breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this at all. You’re Sloan’s nephew and his apprentice, the future of the Killough Company. It’s best to keep things professional.”
“Is that what you want?” Fionn snapped. “To go back to not fucking?”
“No.”
Fionn glanced away and stared out the window again, causing my heart to ache. I wished there was something more I could say to make it better, but nothing would. If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t have slept with him in the first place, no matter how much I’d enjoyed every second.
“I respect you?—”
“Don’t!” He huffed. “I don’t need you to say those things. I’m not a fucking virgin damsel who needs you to marry me. I would rather you not speak to me at all unless it’s about work right now.”
I held back the urge to slam my hand on the steering wheel. I’d fucked up, and I would live with my mistake, but I never meant to hurt him. Of course, he didn’t want to know that. I’d gone and broken his heart. How could I have been so stupid?
Instead of trying to talk, to tell him how I really felt, I kept my eyes on the road and stayed silent, exactly like he’d asked.