Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Harper
A nother freaking dead end!
I groan and push back from the massive mahogany desk in the formal library, frustrated at myself.
Why can’t I find what I need? I’ve always considered myself good at finding buried information, but even though I’ve unwoven a lot of the mystery, I can’t narrow down who took Macie and Chantal.
I know who was there. I’ve tried to follow the money. I’ve tried everything I can think of and am still no closer.
The families of my BFFs deserve answers. My girls deserve closure. And I’m failing everyone.
I groan, raking rough fingers through my hair as I pace through the serene space. Maybe I should go upstairs and have a bath. Clear my head. Relax and maybe an idea might jog loose.
There’s an amazing old soaker tub in Bryan’s room that he never uses.
I guess it’s sort of our room now—though it feels foreign to think of it that way. Since Bryan and I made up a couple of weeks ago, things have been going really good. And as much as I don’t want to get too attached too quickly, the quiet comfort I’ve found here is something I can’t deny.
Being with Bryan feels right. He’s so much more than I expected, and I suppose unraveling the mysteries of him has been the best part.
Thinking about him makes me smile. He’s been so much more at peace since Yasmine’s mother gave him that letter. He’s been able to talk to me about her. And although he seemed to think his love for her would make me sad or jealous, it doesn’t.
She’s part of how he became the man I love.
His love for her is part of his heart and soul. I would never want him to forfeit a part of himself for me. I know how my dad carried the love of our mom for all the years he raised us.
He never found another love—I wish he had.
But Bryan has another shot at love, and I’m honored to be the one to give it to him. We’re great together. Different from the way he and Yasmine were great together, but no less amazing.
Movement in the corridor has my heart rate jumping for a moment before I remember that Bryan is out with Brendan tonight doing something at one of the warehouses.
“Are you up for a cuppa tea and taking a break?” Nora enters the library carrying a tea tray with two pieces of cake and a small tea set. “You’ve been at it for hours.”
I have. I’ve been toggling between spreadsheets, encrypted files, and the stinking guest lists from Eddie Mason’s mansion.
Dates. Names. Transactions. Follow-up meetings.
And nothing.
I sigh. “There are still key pieces missing from the puzzle, and I can’t seem to get it to take shape.”
Nora sets the tray on the little coffee table in front of the fire, and I join her.
“That’s what I’d like to talk to you about.” She presses her finger to the top of the little ceramic pot and pours each of us a cup of tea. “I know how driven you are to find those responsible for taking your friends?—”
My eyes widen. “I hear a but coming.”
She flashes me a soft smile and blushes. “ But , Brendan suggested something to me a couple of weeks ago and I wondered what you’d think about it.”
A couple of weeks ago? “Brendan suggested what?”
She shifts back onto the sofa and picks up her plate of cake. “First, I want you to know that the brothers are behind you, no matter how your search plays out. They have openly opposed the exploitation of women and will go up against the Masons and McGuires and whoever else they need to, without question.”
I hear another but coming, but don’t point it out. Instead, I plow a forkful of cake into my mouth to keep me from getting defensive.
“Bryan loves you and that makes you part of a very powerful family,” Nora continues, “but as powerful as the Quinns are, there are things they don’t have access to—especially in the arena of taking down criminals.”
I chew the chocolate bliss, raspberry mousse making love to my mouth. Hot damn, Cora is one talented lady. “Are you saying you don’t think I can do it?”
She shakes her head. “I’m saying that given what you have put together, maybe there are people more qualified to take it to the next step. To not only expose these bastards, but who have the force to shut them down.”
“People like who?”
“My father ran anti-crime task forces my entire life and some of the highest-ranking people are my pseudo ‘uncles’ or ‘aunties’. They have the clout and the power behind them to get wire taps and surveillance teams. With Eddie Mason dead, the trail is going cold. These people could dig in and maybe get further, faster.”
The idea makes me a little crazy. “I know time is not on my side, but this is my fight. I’ve come so far, I want to take these assholes to the mat. I need them to pay.”
“No question. I understand that. But isn’t the end result more important than who’s putting them in the ground? From what you’ve learned, there are dozens, if not hundreds of women out there who have been taken. They all deserve the greatest chance for justice, right?”
They do. Of course they do.
I bite my lip. “I don’t know…”
Nora reaches over and squeezes my wrist. “You’ve run point on this alone for ages. Why not share the load? The people I know—they can finish this.”
My throat tightens.
I want to be the one to take it all the way. But the truth is… she’s right. The best chance we have to stop these men—to save whoever might still be caught in their web—is working with people who have the power and budget to hit hard.
I let out a long sigh. “I would want updates. I don’t want to be cut out.”
Nora smiles. “This is your fight, girlfriend. I’ll make sure everyone knows it and I’ll kick their butts if they forget it, I promise.”
After a long moment, I nod. “Okay. Make the call.”
Nora squeezes my hand. “I’ll set up a meeting.”
* * *
The glass doors of the corporate tower whoosh closed behind us as Nora and I step into the chilled air of early evening. On any other trip, the sights and sounds of Paris would have me sitting up and soaking it all in. Tonight… I just don’t have it in me.
Relinquishing my files to Devon Watts wasn’t easy. It felt like ripping out a piece of my soul and handing it over in a manila folder.
But Nora’s “Uncle Devon” is the real deal—an ex-Scotland Yard veteran turned anti-crime task force head honcho. Quiet but commanding. He’s the kind of man I know will burn the world down to get justice.
I just gave him the match.
Still, handing everything over—my notes, my findings, my theories—feels like failure dressed up as logic. Like I’m giving up on them.
The beat of Nora’s steps match mine as we descend the stone steps toward the curb. “Are you okay?”
I nod, but the knot in my stomach tightens. “I will be. I’m just… adjusting.”
To letting go.
To not being in control.
To facing that someone else might finish what I started—and do it better.
I ran this mission on adrenaline, rage, and a healthy dose of survivor’s guilt. I pushed it as far as I could. But now that I’ve handed it over, I can't help feeling like I’ve betrayed Macie and Chantal.
Like I should’ve done more.
I draw a deep breath into my lead-filled lungs and force my emotions down to make way for logic.
Time is the enemy, and the longer I chase ghosts, the less chance we have of saving the women who are still alive. If they are.
“Ain’t that a pretty sight?” Nora gushes, smiling.
And there they are.
Leaning against the rental car in denim jeans and black leather jackets, the Quinn twins await. With their identical looks and their arms folded across their broad chests in exactly the same way, they look like they’re daring the world to approach.
“Our Irish bookends,” Nora says with a chuckle.
“Our hot and broody Irish bookends,” I correct.
Nora sighs. “Life is good, isn’t it?”
“It is.” My steps falter for a beat, because damn. Bryan’s gaze is locked on me with an intensity that makes my panties melt. He’s too handsome for his own good, standing there like some leather-clad god of war.
The sun slants low behind them, and as we get closer, I study how the champagne light catches the sharp angles of his face, lighting up the gold in his eyes.
The tension in his warrior’s frame relaxes as we join them, a rare grin tugging at his mouth as he straightens and moves toward me. He doesn’t hesitate—just wraps me in his arms, lifting me slightly off the pavement like I weigh nothing at all.
And suddenly, everything feels a little easier.
“You all right?” he asks, his voice low and steady, vibrating through my bones.
I nod against his shoulder, but it’s not a full truth.
Inwardly, I still feel like I’ve lost something. Like I’ve come up short. Like I should be scouring the world for my friends instead of being held.
But I took this as far as I could, and now I’ve handed it off to someone who can make arrests and issue warrants. That’s the win.
“I’m fine,” I lie softly. “Just… decompressing.”
He doesn’t question that. After another squeeze, he brushes a kiss to my temple and lowers me back down, one arm still wrapped around my waist.
Brendan eases back from kissing Nora hello and tucks her against his hip. “Productive meeting, I take it?”
Nora flashes me a sad smile. “Devon has a team that just finished another assignment. He’s called a meeting with them for the morning and then they’ll be flying to London and be hot on the trail.”
Bryan winks and gives me a smile. “That’s amazing news. These people are good at what they do, trouble. Trust me. We wouldn’t have been so worried about our business and our future if they weren’t.”
I suppose that’s true.
Brendan turns to open the back door of the rental. “So, what now? What would you ladies like to do? Shall we get a hotel and take over the city of love?”
I study their faces and realize they’re leaving the decision up to me. “Honestly, would you mind if we save that for another time and just go home?”
Bryan pegs me with a sexy grin. “Paris isn’t going anywhere. Home it is.”
Brenny shrugs. “Home works, but I think we should at least celebrate. Maybe we stop into Jimmy’s when we get back and grab a pint.”
A night out drinking sounds amazing—exactly what I need. “God, yes. Or maybe twenty.”