TEN
NOTHING.
Not a speck of blood, not a clue.
They’d been at her grandfather’s and left again, none the wiser.
Back in the car, Strat drove without aim. “You’re quiet, Scamp.”
“Of course I’m fucking quiet,” she said, her arm dropping from its place holding up her head, elbow on the doorsill. “It’s like I made the whole thing up. Am I delusional?”
“Probably, but that doesn’t mean you made it up.”
Ha-fucking-ha. “Strat—”
“They wouldn’t leave evidence.” McDades are in the business of reducing our criminal footprint. “They don’t want anyone to know a McDade spilled blood. You said Silvio was there, right?” She nodded. “So he knows exactly who was in that room. If blood was found there, reported, The Director would know who it belonged to.”
“None of us have been seen around this week. Any of the three of us could’ve bled out.”
“He couldn’t know who.”
What had been her father’s intended grand plan? What was supposed to go down that night? Someone could’ve lost their life. If Conn wasn’t with her and she’d been alone with her father and Silvio Manzani… God, it didn’t bear thinking about. Death was one thing, death by complicit father would be something else.
“There wouldn’t have been enough blood,” she said. “For it to be all of us. And it would’ve been concentrated, right? Just wherever Conn sat.”
“I don’t know, Scamp. What does it matter? The McDades must’ve cleaned the scene.”
After their leader was taken care of.
She exhaled; her fingers curled into fists against her thighs. “I’m going to kill him. Me! I’ll take down goddamn Connel McDade myself. For putting me through this? I’ll wring his damn neck.”
“That’s treason,” he teased. She’d accused him of that not so long ago. “How’d you find out?”
She grabbed Strat’s phone. “Find out what?”
“That your dad killed your grandfather. Did he tell you?”
“He was rambling, frustrated, pissed off, saying how Henry should’ve listened to him and it shouldn’t have happened that way. I just… knew.”
“Not like he’s denied it either.”
No. Someone should be vehement about their innocence of such a heinous crime, of any crime, if the innocence was genuine.
“He wasn’t thinking straight when it came out.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Strat said. “You sure he doesn’t have a habit?”
They’d investigated Henry. Had anyone thought to background check her father?
“You think he helped Silvio under duress? That he owed him something?”
“Not what I was getting at but, sure.”
She shifted to examine his profile. “What were you getting at?”
His hands skimmed to the top of the wheel. “If the guy’s twitchy, maybe he’s not getting his fix.”
Shock opened her mouth even before she got to gasping. “My father would not take drugs!”
Was she defending him?
“You defending him?”
Her chin hitched to the side. “No, I just can’t even… though I guess I ‘couldn’t even’ before and it turned out he was a murderer.” She shook her head. “But, no, I’ve been with him for days, I haven’t seen him take anything.”
“Only takes a second, kid. Addicts sniff it out anywhere.” Hmm. “Doesn’t have to be drugs, some guys get addicted to horses, pussy, cock fighting—”
“My father was never much of an animal lover.”
Okay, maybe she was getting her sass back. Except the knife still twisted in her gut. Every second without him tore at her heart. Soon there’d be nothing left of it.
“Scamp?”
How long had she been sitting there staring at nothing?
“I was addicted, am addicted,” she whispered without moving. “I won’t survive if I have to exist without him.”
“Don’t give up hope yet.”
“It’s not about hope, it’s about…” Her eyes closed, trying to blind her regret. “I wasted so much time. I don’t deserve him.”
“You do.”
“His whole life, he’s lived this. He told me he came to terms with how his life would end. That the only fear he’d ever experienced was after the attack.” Opening her eyes to his glancing her way, what she needed was more than anyone could give. “Me. I was the only fear in his life.”
“I don’t doubt he loves you, kid.”
“He’s this… So strong, such a beacon to power and determination. The McDades look to him, give him loyalty. Others fear him. He’s more than a man, more than just a person.”
“He’s an emblem. A symbol.”
“Yeah.”
When she didn’t continue, he stole another look at her. “And…?”
“Every room he walked into, he was the most powerful. Invincible… Nothing could take him down. Nothing… Until me.”
“Scamp, you don’t—”
“If he didn’t survive this, if he’s hurt or in pain, that’s on me.”
“That’s on the one holding the gun, your father.”
“Conn wasn’t supposed to be there,” she admitted, feeling the full force of guilt. “My father asked me to come alone.”
“Ire would never have let—”
“He gave me the choice… I asked him to come. I asked him to be there and… The notorious Ire McDade survived the streets and the family, the in-fighting, the external threats, and he was there, taken down by a McLeod. Because another McLeod killed him. It didn’t matter who he was to anyone else, or what he was in the world. In that minute, walking into that room, taking that bullet, he wasn’t a mob boss or a symbol on the streets, he was my boyfriend. The man who loved me.”
“What’s so wrong with that?”
“Love shouldn’t kill.”
“Love always kills,” Strat said. “Sometimes with a bullet, sometimes with a thousand needles. Sometimes it wears you down, sometimes it lifts you up.”
“But—”
“People murder others for money, greed, hatred, the list goes on and on, all of it is love. Whether it’s someone loving something more than the person they’re taking down, or they love themselves too much. Love is the motivation for everything.”
“Love put him in the path of a bullet. Dead or not, he shouldn’t forgive me for that.”
And maybe that was it. Why her people couldn’t get through to Conn or the First Team. Ire McDade didn’t stand for such an insult, an injury like that. And it was her fault.
They pulled to a stop outside the loft building. Going in there could be the relief she needed. Going into their bedroom, being there, if she didn’t find him waiting…
Waiting… Goddamnit.
“Any shit goes down, you get your ass to our bedroom and wait for me. Understand?”
His words. The plan. The contingency. The instruction her love gave, the order. If she couldn’t find Conn, he’d have to find her. Shit, knew what to do. That statement didn’t come from Play, he was repeating something he’d heard, maybe something he’d been told.
Yes, she did know what to do.
“Better if I park around the corner?” Strat asked.
“No,” she said, her fingers curling around the door release as her eyes fixed on the entrance. “Stay here. If I don’t come down in ten minutes, just go.”
“What?”
The severity of his tone attracted her attention. “He’s up there or he’s not.”
“Yeah, and if someone else is up there?”
“The only people who know about this place are trusted.”
“Huh, and no one ever learned something they shouldn’t? If someone was leaned on—”
“What’s the worst that happens? Someone puts a bullet in me?” She smiled as her head relaxed to the side. “You know my perspective on this. To fight for your life, you first have to value it. If they want to take me down, they can do it. What do I have left to lose? If there’s trouble up there, I don’t want you anywhere near it.” Tears threatened again. “You’re all I have left, Strat. I would never survive you being hurt either. Let them end it, they’d be doing me a favor.”
“I don’t accept that. Just because he’s not here doesn’t mean he’s not anywhere. What the fuck do you think he’ll do to me if I let you go up there alone?”
“I’m only following his orders.”
“What orders?”
“If shit goes down, I get to our bedroom and wait.”
“Really?” he asked. “That’s the plan?”
What else could she do but follow orders and hope he found her?
“Yes, so go home, Strat. Get some rest, you deserve it.”
Rather than agree, he loosened his seatbelt. “Thanks, I’ll pass.”
“You can’t—”
“He’s there, I’ll split. He’s not…” God, she really didn’t want him to finish that sentence. “There’s liquor and guest rooms, right?”
Her friend got out of the car and came around to open her door. Why should she fight with him? Okay, so she did feel bad about the stressful week he must’ve had. Shit, she hadn’t even thought about how him and Lach managed to get through it without killing each other.
They went inside and up in the elevator. No one lingered outside in the hallway. If Conn was there, shouldn’t there be security? Yes, and there should be cars in the street too. Though they did tend to park in the alley if the boss was home for the night.
Her print, her code, it worked, and the door popped an inch. “He told me I was never alone. That our army would always raise me up.”
Strat squeezed the back of her neck. “I’m an army of one and you’ve got me at your back.”
How would she ever repay his courage? His loyalty? Of everyone in the world, only him and her brother dedicated their lives to finding her. No one else showed that determination. That commitment.
Breathing out, she went inside. Nothing out of place. No hint of movement in the air. Empty? By all outward appearances.
She pointed to the hallway. “Guest rooms are down there. Whisper might be here; I don’t know where Play’s staying either. Here or at the club, I guess.”
“I’ll check it out.”
Strat disappeared, taking her hint that the big task lay on her. She didn’t check the kitchen. A glance told her the place was in order, no clutter or evidence of habitation. Ignoring the room, though there was more of it, she ascended the stairs to the bedroom.
That was the real test… and the last hope.
No whisper of sound, no breathing, no movement. At the top of the stairs, she hesitated. If he was in there, she could crawl into bed beside him, and they’d finish their night the right way. Pretend none of this happened.
Somehow, even before going inside, she knew he wasn’t there. The sense in the air didn’t feel right. Something about the aura was off.
It smelled of him. Of them. When she passed through the bedroom into the closet, their essence was there. Yet it was fractured. The bathroom was empty too. How many times had they stood in there together, naked, exposed, alone, in love?
Laying both hands on the glass of the shower screen, her forehead found a cool space between them.
He wasn’t there.
“Scamp!”
Strat’s call forced her to return the way she’d come, to the open landing at the head of the stairs overlooking the living room.
“Anything?” she asked.
“No sign anyone’s here or been around recently.”
They’d tried to call every number they had. Strat didn’t have Whisper’s number. She didn’t have a number for Raze, or Nicki.
“Nicki,” she said when it hit her.
“Scamp?”
“I have to stay here, I’m going to stay here…” Leaning back into the room, the hemisphere camera was out of its hidey-hole in the ceiling, though the red light wasn’t on to indicate anyone may be watching. If the cameras at Stag were motion activated, maybe theirs was the same. “Just in case he was waiting for me to show up.”
Could be she was kidding herself. But if they were both trying to find each other, one of them should stay put and give the other a chance to catch up.
“You think Nicole McDade knows something?” Strat asked.
“I think she’s in the Grand Hotel, room eight thirty-two.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I do,” she said. “Will you swing by, check it out?”
“Why would they tell Nicole—”
“I don’t care about Nicole; I care about the guys watching her. This is family. Niall commands the rotation. Doesn’t that mean he has to be in touch with them?”
Strat freed his phone from his pocket to dial. “Okay.”
“What are you doing?” she asked when he raised it to his ear.
“Calling my boy.”
“Why?”
“Because if I walk out that door, there’s no telling if you’ll let me back in.”
“Why would I keep you out? That’s just—”
“Sane,” he said and turned his back to talk on the phone. “Got a job for you… Yes, at this time, boy… Shut up and listen.”
His family, their resources, nothing was hers, yet Strat put it at her disposal. More people would get hurt before the end of this. Please, God, let it be those who deserved it.