Chapter 11 Colby
COLBY
I wake up slowly, feeling the soft sheets I’m slowly getting used to again under me, the perfectly plump pillow below my cheek, and I have to smile. When I risk a glance, I find my room bathed in the warm, soft glow of the nightstand lamp on the other side of the bed.
The blackout curtains keep me guessing as to what time it is, but what’s most important right now, is that I’m alone.
If I close my eyes and focus, I can still feel that intense sense of security that Eian’s arms created.
So intense, that I think I fell asleep less than ten minutes after my head hit the pillow, and that’s unusual considering it takes me an hour on nights when my ritual has gone perfectly, which of course wasn’t the case last night.
I was wearing pajamas for one, and had someone else in my bed—that hasn’t happened in more than a year if you don’t count the first few weeks with Maggie—and I was overly aware of every little movement Eian made, every breath he took, every inch of his skin touching mine.
But now . . . I stretch lazily, my toes even curl, and I can tell I had the best night’s sleep I’ve had in—I don’t even know how long.
And that finally wakes me up enough.
I might pull a muscle from how fast I sit up to check my phone, and I definitely injure something in my scramble to Maggie’s bedroom.
My heartbeat goes dangerously fast at the sight of the empty crib and I don’t think anymore, just move.
I run out of the room, down the hall, risk even more injuries by how fast I take the steps down to the ground floor, and can’t really control my reaction when I find her smiling and clapping on the plush rug in the living room with a dancing Rory and smirking Eian.
“Thank fuck,” I breathe out and bend to rest my hands on my knees so I can catch my damn breath. I don’t think anyone’s noticed me, so I take my time, but soon enough, a pair of gleaming dark-brown Oxfords appear right in front of me.
“I just thought you could use the sleep,” Eian murmurs. I pretend I don’t jump in surprise when he puts a hand on my head and starts combing his fingers through my hair. After two seconds I decide that’s not something I should enjoy, and I straighten.
“I don’t think I’ve slept that long since I was a teenager,” I tell him, forcing a smile and acting like I’m not still out of breath. That softness that was all over his face last night has no business gracing his face still, but he doesn’t seem to care about keeping my emotions level.
“Then I can’t really regret taking Maggie after she woke up.” Without ceremony he presses his body to mine and cups my cheeks.
I’m bracing myself for another one of his briefs-melting kisses but instead he goes soft on me.
Will I ever know what to expect from Eian?
I think this is the best way to be kept on my toes.
“We fed her, and then Rory said a dance party was in order.”
We both turn to look back at the womenfolk, and find Rory on her belly on the floor making faces at Maggie.
I stop controlling myself and just scoop her up to cuddle her. It’s something I do every morning before I even change her, but even if her routine changed a little today, there’s no reason why I can’t make up for it now.
An indescribable thrill moves through my body when, as if he can’t help himself, Eian moves closer again and rests a hand on Maggie’s fuzzy head.
“We need to go check on a—” He stops himself abruptly and frowns at .
. . nothing it seems, but then he reaches up and covers Maggie’s ears before whispering, “On a brothel.” I have to bite back a smirk so hard that it actually hurts, but I pretend it doesn’t and keep listening.
“I need Rory with me today, but Celly’s here and we should be back around four. ”
“Sounds great.”
With another unprompted kiss that I don’t shy away from, he walks out of the room.
Rory pauses only to coo at Maggie, but barely glances at me before leaving too, and by how genuine her smile looks, I can tell she really only likes kids.
“They’re so weird, Maggie,” I mumble at her before kissing her forehead. Then I go in search of breakfast
The part I don’t say out loud is that it seems we fit perfectly here. It’s too real a sentiment to ever think again, so I throw it away and focus on getting my day started.
“You’re not listening,” Duffy stresses, sounding like a petulant child.
“I am. You’re just so ridiculous that I refuse to take you seriously,” I tell him, knowing well and good that if I raise my voice even a little, he’ll win, or he’ll think so at least.
“A brain injury could totally make you smarter!” he cries dramatically, and flops back on the couch with a huff.
One thing Eian failed to mention was that instead of Rory, Duffy would spend the whole day with me, and that when Maggie went down for her nap he’d be right there, ready to pounce and talk my ear off.
It didn’t get this bad until half an hour ago after we had dinner—Eian did call to let us know they wouldn’t make it by four, but I couldn’t even complain about him leaving Duffy here to babysit me since Duffy took over the conversation.
It’s not that I dislike Duffy. I don’t. He’s funny, even caring, and makes me feel good about myself. But he has so . . . much . . . energy. And I need to focus on the measly information Seamus has gotten from two—that’s right, just two—bank accounts.
“You try doing it then,” was his grumpy retort over the phone when I called to check in with him an hour ago, and I have even less patience to deal with moody teenagers. Yes, I know he’s not technically a teenager, but he sure does act like one.
“Is everything okay?”
I do not sigh in relief at the sound of Eian’s voice, definitely not.
“Colby’s being mean,” Duffy declares and even pouts.
“I am not, you brat. And get your feet off the table before you screw up my system.”
He grumbles something about systems but does bring his feet back to the floor where they belong.
“Duffy, go bother someone else,” Eian orders, voice distracted as he comes over and watches the computer’s screen over my shoulder.
“I’ve got nothing,” I tell him, and I don’t lean back on my chair to be closer to him—of course not. I just need to rest my back.
“Did Seamus send you anything?” His hands come to rest on my shoulders, and I have to work extra hard to keep my eyes open when he kneads the muscles softly.
“Nothing that’s actually going to help here. It’s impossible. We’re never going to find the answers to this unless we can find that stupid website again. I can’t believe they shut it down—”
“They probably did that after we found the warehouse,” Eian interrupts me.
I can see out of the corner of my eye how Rory walks around the table and starts grabbing papers to hold them closer to her face, reads for a moment, then puts them down exactly where she found them. She has manners.
“Seamus said he’s looking for the new one, and he said something about cross referencing usernames. I don’t really know what that means, but—”
“Why won’t you let me meet him?” I know the risks, but I still interrupt him. I’m too tired and I need to get some answers from him. Seems this is the fight I’m choosing tonight.
Eian stays silent for a beat, then pulls out the chair next to mine and sits.
“He’s going to meet you when he decides he wants to.”
That’s annoying. Why doesn’t he want to meet me? And it totally takes the wind out of my sails.
“So it’s not you keeping me at a distance, like with your aunt?” I sigh in relief, and can barely keep looking into his eyes.
“I’m not keeping you at a distance by not introducing you to my aunt. I’m just giving us both times to build trust because that’s what it’s going to take. Excuse me if—despite all the evidence—I need a little more time to get used to the idea of you.”
Why does he have to be so rational all of a sudden? I can’t let that stand.
“You’re the one who keeps kissing me and making me go all stupid with your cooking and adorable requests to hold me while you sleep.”
It seems I’ve rendered him speechless for a long moment and that’s amusing enough, but then he goes ahead and makes it better.
“Adorable?” he demands, sounding appalled. “I’m not fucking adorable, I’m—”
“Sorry to interrupt such a romantic moment,” Rory pipes up, not sounding sorry at all. “But what the hell is this?”
“The receipt,” I cry out. I stand so fast the chair topples over behind me, but I don’t care because I’m happier that she found it than I should be. “Where did you find it? I’ve been looking for it for days.”
“It was stuck between these papers,” she mumbles. “But did you see what’s written on the back?”
“Yes, I did—” She hands it over to Eian before I can explain.
“Fuck,” Eian hisses. “This was the receipt you got from Luca?” he demands, and the change is so sudden it takes me a second to remember this is mob-boss Eian.
“Yes, the one from the diner when he met with—”
“Cotroni,” Eian finishes looking right at Rory. “Did you go to this address, on this day? What did you see?” he barks out.
“No, I didn’t go.” I speak quickly with my heart almost beating out of my chest. “I was going to, but that’s the day I got fired.
I figured out he worked for the Italians the day I got the receipt and told my boss, and two days later he fired me for being unethical.
” I spit the last word out with disgust.
“This is from more than a year ago,” Rory says, sounding uncharacteristically emotional, almost alarmed. “Fourteen months plus a week, I think. If they got someone inside—”
“Inside where?” I need to know what the fuck they’re talking about because as far as I could tell from the little research I did on that address before I got fired, that building is pretty normal. It’s in Queens, full of tenants, only has seven floors if I remember correctly.
“It’s one of our brothels,” Eian finally tells me.
I know I need to breathe, but all the oxygen in the world isn’t going to help me now.