Chapter 9
Brody
In the hallway outside the suite, while still reeling from her knife-edged words, I start to realize how much Trinity’s statement affected me.
If this were anyone else, I’d shake the manipulation right off, but this woman throws me off-balance. I want to say she’s lying about her family to protect herself. Trinity probably believes that if she convinces me she’s distant with her relatives in NYC, she’ll no longer be useful to me.
The hurt that flashed through her eyes was too raw and real, though. No one fakes pain that well.
Forget what she said.
Stop imagining her loneliness.
She’s not you, Brody.
I spy my reflection in a mirror hanging across the hall and give him a grim, humorless smile. I dodged bullets and knife attacks today, but one woman’s attempted seduction and woeful tale has me sweating and sympathizing with her?
I scrub my palm over my face. I can’t fucking believe this.
In the elevator ride down to the lobby, I focus all my efforts on re-centering myself. Asking my sister for help will be difficult enough without her peppering me with a bunch of questions.
Maeve’s always been observant. And interested in what’s going on with my life.
For a long time after our mom died, she acted like a second mother to me.
Growing up, I appreciated having someone at home who had my back.
When I hit my twenties, though, our relationship started to change. Mostly my fault.
Guilt crushes me every time she gives me the look. That you-used-to-be-a-sweet-little-boy look, like she’s remembering all the times she rocked me to sleep as a kid.
If I’d eaten lunch, it’d be rolling over in my stomach. While I lost my sentimentality a long time ago, my sister didn’t. Her heart has always been the same amount of soft.
At least when it comes to me.
She’d never understand, though. Like Connor, she’s a real Gallagher, and she doesn’t know about my true parentage. My father swore me to secrecy and threatened my life if I told anyone.
I’m the interloper who needs to earn his place to remain in the family. And earning a spot under Declan Gallagher doesn’t allow for sentimentality or gentle hearts.
When I exit the elevators on the ground floor, my eyes find Maeve easily. My older sister stands at the reception desk, chatting with a few of her employees. She looks like a million bucks in her pastel blue pantsuit, her straight dark hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail.
Maeve never used to wear eye-catching colors. Probably Kellin’s influence.
As I head toward her, that familiar weight lowers onto my shoulders. Over the past few years, our relationship has proven a little…rocky.
Not her fault, of course. As Maeve distanced herself from our father, I bent over backward to impress him. Plus, the older we got, the more Declan started to separate us.
Maeve stayed out of the dirty work, half because she wanted to and half because Declan never respected her enough to realize her potential.
Bigger responsibilities always went to Connor. Less important tasks came to me. I’ve spent years running on a treadmill and struggling to earn Declan’s esteem while gaining nothing but more insecurity.
I know I’ve acted like an asshole, even to Maeve sometimes. Maybe I thought being tough around her would impress Declan.
So stupid.
In recent weeks, I’ve taken steps to repair our relationship, and I think I’ve noticed progress. I started texting her periodically to see how she’s doing, and last week, I sent her flowers for no reason other than to let her know I’m glad she’s my sister. She called me sobbing.
I don’t know the first thing about making up with someone, but Maeve, while careful with her heart, loves fiercely.
And when she loves you, she’ll forgive you a thousand times over. No questions asked.
As soon as she sees me coming, my sister’s brown eyes light up. She offers me a smile so big and genuine that I almost spin right around.
Seeing my sister on the heels of that screwed-up shit with Trinity upstairs isn’t easy. My chest locks up tighter than a snare drum while remorse gnaws at my mind.
If someone did or said the things that I did and said to Trinity today to Maeve… Well, let’s just say that asshole’s blood would already be under my fingernails.
Great. Now I really am conflating Maeve and Trinity. I think the stress of today has finally gotten to me.
“It’s not like you to pay me a surprise visit.”
Maeve’s nose wrinkles, and she refrains from hugging me. Guess I should have showered first, but I couldn’t be in that suite for another minute.
I glance down at my shirt. At least I kept the blood from my clothes. Mostly.
“I’m in a bit of a jam,” I state flatly.
Concern immediately clouds her face. “My office?”
“Emerald & Oak, if that’s okay.” The idea of the hotel’s five-star restaurant has my stomach gurgling. “I’m starved.”
As we head over to the elevator to travel up to the fifth floor, memories spiral through my crowded mind. All the times I accompanied Declan to the hotel, all the times he held court in this very restaurant…
It’s strange to be here without him, but our family’s in a volatile place at the moment.
Especially since Maeve and Declan won’t speak to each other.
“So.” Maeve breezes toward a corner in the VIP section of Emerald & Oak. Green velvet seats surround a table draped in white linen and decorated with a vase of white roses. “What kind of a jam?”
We sit opposite each other.
“I’m on a job.” I fish a pack of smokes out of my pocket. “But today, everything went sideways.”
Maeve eyes the pack of cigarettes with pursed lips. “What kind of job?”
My shoulders sag because there she goes, asking questions I’m not at liberty to answer. Not without World War III breaking out.
I light up and suck in a slow taste of nicotine.
Her pointed glare reminds me of the no-smoking policy, but thankfully, she keeps quiet. What’s the point of owning the hotel if you can’t do what you want?
Once she realizes I’m not going to explain, she moves on. “Does Dad know?”
“Probably.” I blow smoke away from the table. “It’s his job, and I haven’t reported in.”
Declan was meant to meet us at the construction site to retrieve Trinity, but the Russians showed up before he did. If he ever arrived, he found a graveyard full of dead enemies and two of our own men and would’ve called for details.
If he did, I have no idea because I lost my phone in the mayhem.
Premonitions of danger twinge through me, causing the muscles in my back to twitch. What if the Russians also attacked Declan? They clearly knew where we were going to be and waited to ambush us.
“If you want my help, I need you to be a little less cryptic.” Maeve aims a warm smile at a tall, curly-haired server who brings her a glass of rosé. “Thank you, Marcus.”
I exhale another trail of smoke and order a whiskey and medium-rare steak. “Dad and I were supposed to rendezvous about a drop earlier today, but the location was compromised.”
The spot above Maeve’s nose furrows as she sips her wine. Her eyes flick back and forth, like she’s reading words off an invisible sheet of paper. “By who?”
“Not sure exactly. There were at least ten of them. Maybe more.”
“Were they Russians?”
I freeze mid-inhale, my pulse stuttering. “How did you know?”
Her forehead wrinkles as she frowns. “A report came through. Apparently, a large mercenary crew of Russians arrived in Los Angeles late last night.”
I lean against the table, resting my cigarette on my bread plate. “Led by who?”
My sister’s frown deepens. “Andrei Kruschev.”
When I hear the name, shards of ice slice through my veins. Kruschev’s a top enforcer for the Roguilin syndicate on the East Coast. What the hell are he and his men doing out here? If anything, the New York Gallaghers should be their enemies, not—
The pieces click together. Shit. That’s it.
They don’t want us. They want them. The Russians had the same idea we did.
To use Trinity as leverage to get to the Irish Kings.
That’s why they trailed her at her graduation. That’s why they ambushed us at the construction site. They intended to steal our ace and play it themselves.
“Brody, do you know more about this?” Maeve can probably sense the wheels churning furiously in my head.
We lock eyes. For a moment, I want to blurt out every single detail of what went wrong today, to just unload the way I used to after getting bullied at school. Spill my guts and let my big sister clean up the mess.
But I can’t do that anymore. Even if I weren’t too old, another big reason why sleeps in her bed every night.
Kellin Brennan, Maeve’s new man, is an Irish King. He works for Finn Gallagher, the freshly minted leader of our East Coast counterparts. If I reveal that I kidnapped Finn’s sister, I’ll be the next one in captivity, with my nuts dissected from my body and shoved up my ass.
Probably by Finn himself, right before he chops off my dick and feeds it to a subway rat.
I wince at the grotesque visual. “It’s better if you don’t know.”
Before she can argue, the server reappears with my drink. I down the whiskey in three gulps and savor the burn.
“Fine. So what do you need from me?” Maeve dips a bit of bread in olive oil and takes a bite, covering her mouth while she chews.
“A safe place to hide out until all this shit blows over.”
“Give me your phone.” Maeve nods at my jacket pocket.
I shake my head. “Can’t. Lost mine. I need a new one.”
My sister shoots me an uneasy glance. She knows there’s a hell of a lot more going on than I’m admitting, but she doesn’t press me. “I’ll get you a burner.” She exhales softly. “And in the meantime, let’s see if I can find you someplace to lie low for a while.”
She fishes out her own phone and begins typing. When she slides the device toward me, a nondescript pin somewhere in the deserts of California stares back at me.
“It’s a safe house.”
“Occupied?”
She shakes her head. “Not for a few years, at least.”
“So it’s a rickety desert shack.”
She snorts. “I didn’t say that.”
Whether we’re talking about a dust-covered hut on a sand dune or a mansion off the Las Vegas strip, it doesn’t matter.
The quality of my accommodations doesn’t concern me right now. My real issue is that a small army of Russian mobsters has descended on California with the sole purpose of derailing my assignment.
I need to relocate Trinity and myself somewhere safe before doing anything else.
Once I talk to Declan, we’ll figure out what to do from there.
“Mind if I join you?”
I nearly jump out of my skin as the irritatingly smooth, deep voice of Kellin Brennan interrupts my thoughts. He was supposed to be out of town. Otherwise, I would never have come here.
Pressing a hand to my pounding chest, I flick my gaze up to his perfectly styled dark waves of hair and brown eyes a shade lighter than Maeve’s.
Sometimes I really hate his stupid supermodel face.
He winks at Maeve, who practically melts into the velvet cushions while I try not to puke.
“Not at all.” She beams and scoots to the next chair so Kellin can sit beside her.
Oh hell. Anything but Mr. and Mrs. Mafia.
After they’ve share their whispered hellos and I’ve contributed an admirable amount of effort to stop my eyes from rolling right out of my skull, Kellin shifts toward me.
“Brody.” He keeps his expression calm and neutral, but the tension at the edge of his mouth gives him away. “Nice to see you.”
I pick up my cigarette and suck down another drag. “Kellin.”
This jackass might have come through and rescued my sister when the Russians grabbed her, but that doesn’t mean he’s good enough for Maeve, or that I fully trust him. Now that Maeve’s safe, I need to return to classifying him as what he is…an interloper. Declan would never allow otherwise.
Besides, I’d rather not watch my sister ogle any guy.
Maeve raises a brow at him. “What’s going on?”
He gives a little shake of his head but says nothing more.
“I can tell when something’s bothering you.” She leans her head against his shoulder.
Check, please.
Kellin sighs. “I just got a call from Finn.”
Muscles tighten in my core.
“Everything all right?” Maeve sips more of her wine.
“Trinity, Finn’s baby sister, is missing.
” Kellin’s eyes darken like he’s picturing murder.
He probably is. “He talked to her in the morning, but then he also tried to get ahold of her after the ceremony and couldn’t reach her.
He spoke with her security detail, and apparently she gave them the day off.
When they went to the campus to check, they couldn’t find any sign of her. ”
Maeve’s gaze snaps to mine.
Fuck. Caught.
“This sounds like a personal family matter. I should get going.” I rise without waiting for a reply or my steak, hoping like hell the hasty exit doesn’t arouse Kellin’s suspicions.
Worry simmers in Maeve’s big eyes. “Brody—”
“I’ll grab a phone and call you later.”
With a quick wave, I haul ass out of the restaurant.
Can this day get any worse?
Now that Kellin knows Trinity’s missing, he’ll figure out the culprit soon enough. And when that happens, all hell will break loose.
I need to grab Trinity and get out of here. Immediately.
Before this mission falls apart even more.