Twenty-Three
23
Tex
Present Day
Liam was seated on one of the black leather sofas in the library when I walked into the room. He’d sent Micah to wake me up thirty minutes ago. He had questions.
He glanced up from his phone and lifted his chin toward the sofa across from him. “Have a seat,” he told me, then went back to typing something on his phone. Probably texting his wife, Liberty.
Micah followed me into the room and closed the door.
I’d thought Liam had left yesterday to go back to Ocala. His still being here wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Little kept him away from his wife and son. He put his phone on the sofa beside him and reached to pick up some papers on the coffee table between us.
“I need to know everything you know about Salem Murphy,” he told me.
Salem? Why was this about Salem?
“My mom took her in after her abusive father went to jail for killing a man. She and I ended up as a couple a few months before she turned eighteen. My mom died less than two years later. Salem went to SCAD in Savannah—it’s an art school, college, whatever. When Mom died, I went off the rails. Ended things with Salem. Mom had been working on her to go to a better college for art, and she got a scholarship to a school in Rhode Island the following fall. She went. And that’s all I know. That was it for us. I never saw her again until I walked into Pepper’s bar about two months ago, and there she sat.”
That was the barest of CliffsNotes on what I knew about Salem. There were things I wasn’t going to share. I didn’t give a fuck if he was Prez.
“You’ve not been in contact with her since you saw her at the bar?” he asked.
I could tell by his expression that he knew I already had. Blaise Hughes could find out anything. His reach was wide.
“I went to the art gallery the morning of her interview and saw her again at the bar.” Vague. I was being as vague as I could be until I knew what the fuck was going on.
“You attached to her?”
That was a loaded question. One I wasn’t comfortable answering.
“What’s this about? You’ve known me for fourteen years. This is the first time in all those years she’s ever come up, and that’s because she was involved in shit at Pepper’s Bar.”
Liam raised his eyebrows slightly. “You are evading the answer. You’re attached.” He held up the papers. “These are things you need to know and information that does not leave this room. Understand?” He looked from me to Micah.
Dread began to creep up my neck, closing in uncomfortably. What was he about to tell me? Would I have to make a choice between Salem and the club? She was an innocent female. He wouldn’t toss her out of the compound. She’d be dead or taken and raped within hours. Both scenarios I wouldn’t be able to live with.
Micah replied, “Yeah,” while I replied, “What is it?” not agreeing to anything yet.
Liam’s neck flexed, and I could see the dislike for my refusal to agree, but he’d have to understand that there were limits to my loyalty. One limit, and he’d found it—Salem.
“I need your word, Tex. This doesn’t leave this room,” Liam repeated.
“If this concerns Salem and she needs to know for her safety…” I told him, not caring when his eyes narrowed.
“For someone you haven’t seen in eighteen years, you’re awfully protective,” he said, studying me for my reaction.
“She meant something to me once. My mom adored her.” I let it go at that.
Liam didn’t seem fooled though. “Fine. But you should know that her being given this information could put her in even more danger than she’s already in.”
Then I wouldn’t fucking breathe a word, but I was ready to snatch the goddamn papers from his hand. What was it that he knew? How was Salem in any more danger?
“You knew her as Salem Gray. She married an Eamon Murphy fourteen years ago and took his last name. That was probably the only real thing she knew about the man she was married to,” Liam said and held the papers out to me.
I grabbed them as my heart began to hammer in my chest. What the fuck did he mean by that?
“Blaise doesn’t believe the DEA knows any of this, but he is almost certain the CIA does. He can’t be sure that they aren’t keeping tabs on her even though her husband is dead. Her decision to move to Miami was unfortunate since the port of Miami is known for smuggling drugs.”
I dropped my eyes to the papers, impatient.
“What the fuck was her husband involved in?” I snapped.
“Eamon Murphy—believed to also be known as Rí—controlled the smuggling of hash and cocaine into Ireland from luxury yachts coming directly from Morrocco. His family runs the operation and then distributes the drugs throughout Europe. The CIA got involved when the same batches that had been seized in Europe were showing up in drug raids all over the US.”
I stared at the papers in my hand as the words began to blur. Fucking hell.
“Okay, wait,” Micah said. “Are you saying we are housing an Irish drug lord’s wife? And my sister befriended this woman? How could she not know what her husband was?”
My hackles rose, and a burning along my skin began as I cut my eyes to Micah.
“Easy, Tex,” Liam commanded, but I ignored it.
“What?” Micah asked, looking at me incredulously. “It’s a legit question.”
Blood roared in my ears as I started to stand, but a hand slammed against my chest, holding me back. My eyes snapped to Liam, who had shot out of his seat and was shoving me away from Micah.
“Calm the fuck down!” he snarled at me. “It is a question that we need the answer to. If she did know, then she can lead that shit to our door. We need answers, and you need to calm down and listen.”
“She didn’t know,” I sneered.
“And you know that how?” Liam demanded.
Because I knew Salem. She’d never get involved in that world. But that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. He wanted proof. Blaise Hughes wanted proof.
“The DEA is going to be here for statements on what went down in Pepper’s bar in less than an hour. Pepper is prepping her on what to say to clear all of us from any charges. Not that they want to charge any of us. The DEA is as fucking high as Snoop Dogg over the fact that they seized what they needed from the gallery and Kendrix’s things to put Lord Landiago behind bars.
“Hatter Landiago’s death isn’t one they care to avenge. To them, it is one less Landiago to deal with. Once that is behind us, we have been advised that Pepper and Salem need to stay here until they believe it is safe for them to return to their lives. Otherwise, they will have to put them in the witness protection program.”
“They do not realize Salem’s connection. But the DEA and CIA often share information and work together on situations like the one Eamon Murphy organized. If they link that, then I don’t know what they’ll do with Salem. He might be dead, but his father is not. Neither is his brother, who lives in Ireland and handles the trafficking from that end.”
Panic overruled some of the fury that had rushed over me. “She didn’t know,” I tell him with full conviction because I need that to be true. I wasn’t sure how I would protect her if she had known.
“That’s what we need to find out. I was going to have Lick continue getting close to her and see if he could charm the truth from her while we have her here. But after your reaction…”
“Like hell is Lick getting close to her,” I said through clenched teeth.
Liam nodded his head once. “Fine. Then you do it. But you’re gonna have to fuck her. Get her in your bed. She has to trust you. That’s the quickest way for us to figure out just what she knows.”
I shook my head. “I don’t need to fuck her,” I said. I didn’t trust myself if I did.
“Then Lick can—”
“I SAID, NO.” My words came out in a roar as rage erupted inside me at the thought of his hands on her.
Liam grabbed the front of my shirt in his fist as he got in my face. Anger flared bright in his eyes. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him look this way, but it was the first time it was directed at me.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that she’s more than someone he used to know,” Micah drawled.
“You don’t get a fucking option,” Liam growled. “You either get close to her and fuck her or Lick does it.”
“I don’t see how this is an issue,” Micah added. “You got something for her. I’ve never seen you act like this over a female. You’re getting orders to fuck a woman you want anyway.”
He didn’t understand. Neither of them did. With Salem, it was never just fucking. If it had been, then she wouldn’t have owned me. Her drawing wouldn’t be tattooed over my heart. And I wouldn’t still be losing my sanity over her after eighteen years of her being absent from my life.