53. CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Monday rolls around, and I arrive at Divona—the code name for our childhood home on Astoria Harbor, now occupied by my oldest brother, Kieran. I’m wired from too much coffee and no sleep. Saturday night I passed out in my bed, then woke up Sunday horrified that I hadn’t texted Jillian back.
But then, I think about how she texted Johnny right after we were together, and anger radiates through me. I’ll let her hang for a couple of days.
“Two can play this game, you know,” I mutter angrily into my phone.
“Who are you playing a game with?” Kieran asks me, taking a seat at his desk, his son, Matteo, on his lap.
I think it’s the twin Matteo, figuring I always have a fifty/fifty shot.
Lachlan strolls in, a full-toothed grin on his face as usual.
When the door closes behind him, I say, “Where’s Rior?”
Kieran cocks his head to me. “He just had a baby.”
“Yeah?” I’m pretty sure my father killed someone the night I was born.
“It’s called paternity leave,” Lachan says, putting his feet up on the desk, drawing a pissed off look from Kieran.
“Are we fucking IBM now?” I snap, my earlier concern all this happiness makes us vulnerable rearing back into my head.
Lachlan and Kieran stare at me.
“Got something on your mind, Eoghan?” Kieran arches a brow.
Lachlan lowers his eyes at my phone, and I shove it into my suit jacket. We tackled him when he talked crazy one day, wrestled the phone from him, and found photos of Katya buried in there.
Obsession runs in my family.
“I want to wrap up this nonsense in Vegas and come home,” I say.
“What’s her name?” Kieran asks, bouncing his son.
Knowing there’s no point in denying it, I say, “I…fucked Cormac’s prosecutor.”
I don’t keep secrets from my brothers. Plus, Balor knows.
“That got her to drop the case?” Lachlan asks, laughing.
“No, my six-foot-two, gun-packing body made her boss stand up and notice me. I don’t fuck around.” Although, I realize now, Daniel played me. “It happened after. And then a few other times.”
“Are you angling for something else?” Kieran asks, sitting back.
My sanity.
I glance at my brothers. If they suspect I’m slipping off the rails, that I simply cannot stay away from Jillian, and that being so far away from her feels like rolling around in broken glass, I’ll be exiled to Ireland next.
“Just passing the time while I’m there.” I clear my throat. “Turns out she was a virgin and I kind of got her addicted to sex. Better she have it with me than…” I stop when two sets of eyes and jaws drop, agog at me. “What?”
“You took her virginity?” Kieran asks.
“She bled on your cock?” Lachlan puts it more bluntly.
“How old is she?” Kieran goes for a second round before I can answer.
I just waved the white flag to these walking red flags.
“She’s thirty.” I exhale.
“And still a virgin?” Lachlan croaks.
I stare at my brothers, who I know took their wives’ virtue.
“Did it make you a little…possessive about your wives?” I ask, my voice getting low.
“Bleedin’ fuck sake,” Kieran says and stands up. “Kaitlin,” he calls out for one of the nannies and next, he’s handing over Matteo, who, I realize now is Cillian, since Kaitlin is his nanny.
With his hands free, I worry Kieran is going to kick the crap out of me the way he did when we were kids. We all beat the hell out of one another. Typical Irish brat behavior.
I stand up, not wanting to be a sitting duck. Holding up my hands, I say, “Can we talk about the Borgias?”
Kieran halts. “You’re supposed to be meeting with them to make sure they know Stasia has been returned to her father, and I want someone’s head for pointing a gun at Darragh.”
This is some fucking to-do list I have.
“I’ve been busy helping the Las Vegas Fraud and Corruption Unit figure out a way to prosecute the Borgias. That was the payment for Cormac and Ana’s cases being dropped. Not my ten-inch dick in the prosecutor.”
But I am sticking around to play sex games and dating app fuckery with her.
“What kind of case?” Kieran asks, ignoring my dick comment.
“Money laundering.” I rub my fists together. “Statute runs out in a couple of weeks. Borgia’s lawyers keep getting a continuance.”
“Running out the clock,” Lachlan says, rubbing his chin.
It strikes that fucking raw memory of the night I killed Balor’s attackers. Lachlan was with me, but I was alone with Da’s cruel underboss while my fingers were cracked and bleeding from the cold while I buried those fuckers all by myself.
That bleeds into another memory of when Riordan and I were burying witnesses who were in the wrong place at the wrong time when Craig Nolan, Da’s hitman…
Burying witnesses.
“Jesus fucking Christ…” I mutter.
“What’s with you?” Lachlan slaps my arm, the contact stinging.
I only want Jillian’s hands on me. “Something about this case just hit me.”
This isn’t news for my brothers. It means nothing to them. Borgia isn’t our problem. Anymore, anyway. I just need to verify it.
“I’ll make sure to meet with their underboss next week.”
“Then I need you home.” Kieran gets forceful and glances at my crotch. “There’s plenty of good pussy right here.”
Lachlan rubs his eyes. “But she bled on his cock, Kier.”
It sounds like he knows what I’m going through.
“Jillian has my mind in a twisted vise like I’ve never known,” I whisper, reaching out for help.
Hello. My name is Eoghan and I’m a Jillian-a-holic.
“Jillian.” Kieran plays with his wedding ring. “Irish?”
“Her last name is Diamond.”
Lachlan slaps his leg, laughing. “What do you call her in bed? Icey? Shiny?”
“Sparkles…”
Lachlan laughs harder, and I punch him.
“Ow.” He mockingly rubs his arm, the size of a small tree trunk.
“I think we’re long past hoping to marry Irish girls and keep the blood pure.” My words float in the air, but my brothers level murderous gazes at me. “You know what I mean.”
Shaking my head, I turn and stare out the window. I’m unraveling being here with Jillian in that city by herself.
“I need the jet to go back,” I say, still staring at the gray sky and hope the snowflakes hold off while I check in on my staff at the office for a few hours.
If my flight is delayed, I’ll fucking lose it.
“Christmas,” Kieran mutters. “Get your arse home by Christmas Eve. Darragh and Sophie are back in our lives. He’s got a son now with Ana. Isabella wants to pick up the Christmas traditions of Ma. Big tree in the grand living room, lights and ribbons everywhere, gifts, wee-ones running around. That’s how we grew up.”
Sounds half wonderful, half horrible because I’m pretty sure when I’m here next, I’ll be either Ebeneezer Scrooge or the Grinch if I’m forced to leave Jillian behind.