Chapter 17
Rian
I knock on Declan’s door and smile when Aoife opens it with a returning grin, rubbing her swollen belly.
“I’d say it’s good to see you, but it usually isn’t if you’re stopping by. Dec is in the back. Hungry? I’m finishing up some dinner,” she says in greeting.
She moves to the side so I can come in.
I kiss her cheek, placing my hand briefly on her bump. “You look good, Aoife. How’s the baby?”
With a grin she leads me into the kitchen, a slight waddle to her walk. “He’s kicking up a storm. I could have lived blissfully without knowing what bruised ribs from the inside feels like.”
I laugh, warmth spreading in my chest. “Declan's gonna have a son, aye?”
Her pale cheeks color with a tint of pink. “He refuses to find out. I just feel it, ya know? He’s my boy.” Aoife rubs her belly, smiling fondly.
“I’m sure he’s scared shitless. We all thought Cillian would be the first one to become a father, considering how much he whores around.”
She laughs, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Something tells me you’re not far behind. I saw the photos and the way you looked at her at the wedding.”
I rub my thumb across my bottom lip. “I guess it depends how fast my swimmers are. I don’t mind practicing.”
“Are you talking to my wife about sex, ya bastard?” Declan grumbles. He steps behind Aoife, pulling her into his chest as he kisses her temple and rubs her belly. “How ya feeling, chicken?”
“Like a balloon about to pop. And hungry.”
I snap my fingers. “That reminds me. Deirdre said to call her so she can prepare some meals for the birth.”
Aoife’s eyes widen. “She doesn’t have to do that.”
Declan snorts. “If ya don’t tell her, she’ll make the same meal twice over out of spite and then come check ya ate them.”
Stifling my laugh, I nod. “Remember that time Cillian complained about the mashed potatoes.”
He groans. “We didn’t get them for a whole year, she forced us to eat them baked the whole time. I will never forgive him for that.”
Aoife snickers. “None of ya thought to just try to make them yourself?”
Declan and I exchange a glance and she sighs.
“Men,” she mutters under her breath before waddling away to the living room.
He watches for a second before turning to me with a smile. “That sight never gets old.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Aoife walking like a penguin?”
“I heard that, you asshole!” she shouts.
Declan chuckles. “Nah, her all swollen with my kid. It gets me going more than I thought it would. You’ll see when you put one in Isabelle.”
He waves me over to his computer room before I can reply, and I leave it at that. Isabelle and I aren’t being careful, and I would love her getting pregnant. It’s not something that will seem real until it’s happening, so I push it out of my mind. A situation to think about and deal with if it arises.
“Coffee is ready by the way!” Aoife yells at us just as we pass the kitchen. I toss her a thanks and make myself a cup as Declan walks ahead. Ever since Aoife got pregnant, the both of them have been holed up in their home. I don’t blame them, but I do miss them around the house more than I thought I would. And we’ve made sure Declan has access to whatever he needs, wherever we may gather.
I set the coffee on his desk after a large gulp, savoring the bitter taste in my mouth and walking around his chair to one of his far screens. Resting my palms on the wood, I flip through multiple snapshots of Isabelle and Ricky with Luca. Something ugly curls in my stomach the longer I stare.
Declan clears his throat. “Don’t be an eejit.”
I level him with a glare and his eyebrow arches.
“I can see the suspicion crawling on your face. She’s clean, brother.”
His words shouldn’t ease me as much as they do. Isabelle is meant to be a convenient bedwarmer under the guise of peace to everyone outside of the brotherhood. Someone I could easily toss aside if I discover she is betraying me. So why do I feel sick at the thought she may be?
“Ricky though…” Declan trails off, pulling up a few more tabs on other screens. “It’s strange. He’s close to Luca, but I think it’s an illusion on Luca’s part the longer I look.”
My eyebrows knit in confusion. “What do you mean?”
He jabs his finger at multiple photos, pointing out dates and locations. “I think Ricky is the smokescreen that Luca portrays as his right hand. While someone else is moving the pieces in the background.”
“You think Ricky knows?”
Declan shrugs. “It’s possible. He warned Isabelle about the virgin sacrifices.”
I snicker. “Sacrifice indeed. Who do you think he’s covering for?”
Declan clicks through a few more screens. “I haven’t figured that out, but I believe it’s someone close to Gio.” It’s possible, considering Gio was caught in our territory recently. I frown, wondering if that’s the same reason the Outfit fucker came to us.
“The person Sebastian asked us to look into?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I’m not sure, but speaking of his woman. Whoever hid her from Sebastian doesn’t want her found. I only got two face captures before they were deleted within seconds.”
That intrigues me, and I grab the second seat in the room. “Who is she?”
“On paper? A nobody. Whoever she was is gone.”
Surprise courses through me. “You can’t find anything?”
Declan is the best hacker we know. I don’t assume he’s the best in the world, but I doubt someone Sebastian was fucking with has someone better.
“She’s a ghost. I can see why he’s desperate enough to get help.”
“But why use Ricky as a smoke screen?” I glance back at the snapshots of them, trying to find any clues about their relationship.
Declan shrugs. “What do you do when you need someone who can easily disappear and won’t be missed?”
I frown. “Their parents are well liked in the community. You said they have frequent visitors, even if Luca doesn’t wash as much through them.”
He points at his screen. “I ran through the visitors from the past six months, tracking faces and names we know. Guess how many are captains and their families versus normal patrons?”
A sense of dread curls in my stomach and I grit my teeth. “Enough that I’m not gonna like the number.”
He shakes his head and I blow out a breath. “What are you saying then? Isabelle could have been planted and neither of us knew?”
Declan’s fingers pause and his gaze glosses over for a second before he turns back to the screens, typing so furiously that the loud clicking is obnoxious. “I don’t think she was planted, as much as she was pushed into place.”
I move closer to him, gripping the back of his chair.
“What are you looking for?”
“Cillian told me something from that night you guys visited that wash spot, about how you lucked out and he got shot down for the first time in a while. I’m pretty sure her and Isabelle came together, so I think he assumed it was an easy double booking since the bar hang-ons usually wait for you guys.”
My memory of that night is slightly hazy, but I briefly remember her sitting next to someone. “A brunette, not as dark as Isabelle. They seemed familiar, but not friendly.”
“Got it,” he says, and pulls up a snapshot of the vaguely memorable woman with Ricky standing next to her, his arm slung over her shoulders. And in the next few seconds, a multitude of photos of her and Luca exiting hotels in New York instead.
“Either they’re sharing…” I trail off, disgusted by the blatant disrespect Luca has for someone he’s supposed to be loyal to.
“Or he knew exactly what naive little Isabelle was up to.”
My fist slams the table.
“Fuck! I’m sick of this rat bastard being two steps ahead of us. I’m tempted to walk over and shoot him between the eyes and have that be the end of this.”
Declan snorts, turning around in his chair to face me. “His time will come. He’s still operating under the assumption that we don’t know. We’ll have redemption, Rian.”