25. Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
I t’s been almost two weeks of me checking into the people on the list, dropping by to check on deals, trying to ferret out how each connection feels about the death of the patriarch in the Donaghey family. Lorcan double-checked my names and confirmed Finn gave me plausible leads. While I’ve been doing this, Lorcan and Finn have been escalating the war with the Zhang organization. They’ve been sabotaging shipments, interfering in the transfer of women and children. The Zhangs haven’t been able to execute any meaningful replies. The Donaghey brothers are a brutal force when they’re working together.
When I enter Lorcan’s office, his shirt is halfway over his head as he strides from the treadmill to his desk.
“What’ve you got for me?” He tugs down his shirt and drops into his chair.
I toss photos and notes onto his desk. “Pretty much nothing so far. No one seems overly sad or overly happy about the change in leadership here.” What I don’t say is how they fear Finn, his temper, his vengeance.
Lorcan laces his fingers together and taps his thumbs against his lips. “How much are you pushing?”
“Enough.”
He makes a noncommittal noise, and his frown deepens. “At what point do I say, ‘fuck it, he did it?’”
If I can help it, never. “It’s only been two weeks. I haven’t touched the Russians.” In the two weeks I’ve been hunting down their leads, I’ve been trying to dig into the structure of The Cage as well. It seems like every family has a connection to the fighting ring. The web is vast, and it generates a lot of money for many of the families.
Unlocking his fingers, he reclines in his chair. “The Volkovs are last.”
“Why?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Would one of those reasons be you think they might have something to do with it?”
He chuckles. “It would not.” He comes around the desk, leaning against the edge so we’re close enough the scent of his cologne mixes with his sweat, surrounding me.
“Was Finn right? Were you making deals with them behind his back?”
“I was. Course, now he knows, he’s paid them a visit, and that one’s scupper too.” Lorcan shrugs. “It’s not the big one I’ve been working on, so it’s no matter.”
“The big one?”
“Secret project.”
I ease forward so I’m between his legs and lean into him. “Too secret for me?”
The corners of his lips tip up as he loops a stray strand of my hair around his finger. “We’re really going to The Cage to watch the fight tonight?” Releasing my hair, his hands fall to my waist. He touches me a lot in public, far less often in private.
“We are.” Being this close is sending my body into overdrive. The tension between us hums, and I shift closer. He runs his hand along my waist to the small of my back.
“This is the kind of game you’re supposed to be playing with my deartháir mor .” His voice is husky, his gaze trained on my lips.
“What if I play it with him as well?” As the words leave my mouth, my lips graze his earlobe.
He tightens his hold. The effect I’m having on him is unmistakable. Desire stirs in my stomach and then travels lower so standing here is almost more than I can handle.
“Are you?”
“Wanna know my secret?” I murmur into his ear.
“What’s that then?”
“I like you better.”
Drawing back, Lorcan’s hands come up to frame my face. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”
God, I hope not. For once, my face must show what I’m thinking because Lorcan’s hazel eyes soften in response. Inch by inch, I lean forward, sweeping my lips across his, giving him a chance to reject me.
When I ease back, his pupils are dilated, and he scans my face in earnest. “You sure about this?”
“You don’t want it?” My voice comes from low in my throat and is filled with so much longing I almost don’t recognize it. His body is certainly into this, and I want to push him until I get what I want, what I need. We’ve danced around each other for months.
With one last searching glance, Lorcan’s lips descend on mine, and I moan into his mouth, pressing myself closer. He rises to his full height, his lips never leaving mine. His hand tugs my ponytail loose so his fingers can dive into the strands. Sexual frustration pours out of us. Before I can let my brain take control again, I yank off his shirt. He chuckles, the sound going into my mouth and filling my chest. With a gentle shove from him, my jacket falls off my shoulders and hits the floor. His big hands go up under my shirt, drawing it with him over my head, until we’re half-naked, our lips locked together.
I’ve encountered few men who can kiss the way I like, a mixture of softness and firmness that’s never quite balanced. Lorcan is nailing it. Heat pools in areas that have been vacant far too long. He walks me backward toward the table in the middle of the room. When my butt hits it, he lifts me onto the top. I run my hands along his chest, savoring the planes and angles which prove how much time he spends working out.
I’m so lost in him it takes a moment for the buzzer to penetrate my brain. Lorcan’s lips tear away from mine to glance at the screen on the wall. My focus doesn’t leave his face, willing him to ignore whoever is there.
“Finn.” He glances at me, indecision in his eyes.
With my hand around his neck, I pull him into another kiss, pressing my hips forward against him. He groans into my mouth and deepens the kiss. One of his hands braces on the table while the other cradles my head, bringing me closer.
The buzzer sounds.
Lorcan’s hands splay across my hip bones, and he tugs me tighter as he bends me onto the table. His lips graze my stomach, and I weave my fingers through his hair. He’s at the waistband of my pants, and I am slick with need when a fist thumps repeatedly on the door, and then Finn lays on the buzzer without letting up.
I close my eyes and let my shoulders collapse onto the table. Lorcan is above me, hands braced on either side of my head.
“I’ll handle this. Don’t move.” He brushes his lips against mine before he disappears.
The heavy door swishes back.
“I got news,” Finn says.
“It can wait. I’m busy,” Lorcan’s voice is tight.
“You’re not going to let me in?”
There’s a brief pause where I picture them sizing each other up. With a sigh, I sit and run my hands through my hair. I have no idea where my elastic went.
“Kimmy, put on some clothes, will ya? We got things to discuss.”
Jumping off the table, I snatch my shirt off the floor and get it on. His condescending tone sets my teeth on edge.
“It’s fine.” I mean about Finn coming in, not about being interrupted. The sooner we let him in, the sooner he can say his piece and leave. Once he’s gone, I’ll convince Lorcan we should pick up where we left off.
He comes back to me, grabbing my coat off the ground and putting it in my hands. His lips skim my forehead before he faces his brother.
“What’s got you in a tizzy?” Lorcan raises his eyebrows, tugging me close to his side.
Finn’s surveys the room for a moment, and he smirks. “Sorry to interrupt.” His gaze lands on Lorcan. “Me and the boys did a roundup. They’re in the basement.” He nods toward the door. “Come down. Help me decide what to do with them.”
Lorcan’s hand sneaks up my back to the base of my neck. His lips stray to my temple, and he sighs. “Doesn’t have to be right now, does it?”
“Kimmy can come too if that’s the problem.”
I run my palm across the small of Lorcan’s back, wishing Finn wasn’t such a persistent asshole. “It’s fine.” Glancing up at Lorcan, I give a half smile. “I’ll come, see what we’ve turned up.”
With a groan, he crosses to his desk and grabs his own shirt from the floor, bringing it down in a series of sharp movements.
“This is usually your favorite part, deartháir beag .” He winks at Lorcan, and then his attention rakes over me. “You don’t strike me as the squeamish type. I hope you’ve got the stomach for what comes next.”
I raise one eyebrow and thread my arms into my coat. Shoving my hands into the pockets, I eye him for another moment. “My stomach is ironclad. Have no fear.”
“Excellent. Maybe you’ll get to play too.” He rotates on his heel and leads the way out of Lorcan’s wing without a backward glance.
I’ve been to the basement before but only on a brief recon visit when Lorcan and Finn were off running errands without me. Most of the rooms are innocuous storage areas, filled with things that had no meaning to me or any investigation. But there’d been a series of rooms that were secured with a small locked window on the outside of them too. Those must be the rooms we’re headed to now.
Our feet thud down the stairs in an uneven chorus. In my chest, my heart booms with a touch of anxiety. So far, other than some shady business deals, I haven’t witnessed a lot of violence from either man.
Finn comes to one of the locked doors and gives three brisk knocks. I take note of the depth and pitch of each rap, wondering whether I could repeat it if needed. The door swings back, and Antonio is on the other side, his knuckles bloody. Behind him are two of Zhang’s men chained to metal chairs. Their chins rest on their chests, blood oozing out of various cuts.
“Jesus, Antonio. I said I’d be right back. I wanted them conscious,” Finn says.
He shakes out one of his hands, and his shoulders rise. “They’re not dead. As soon as you left, they started running their mouths in some language I didn’t understand. I couldn’t take the yammering.”
Inside I wince at his unwavering simplicity.
“Well, guy. They’re no good to me like this,” Finn says.
“Hard to find out if Zhang was the one who sent men after me and Antonio when they’re unconscious,” I say.
Finn chuckles, but when he looks at me, his eyes narrow. “I didn’t realize there was another theory floating around. Do tell.” His gaze bores into Antonio. “You can leave.”
I shrug and push my hands further into the pockets of my coat, and he closes the door behind him. “I like to be sure of things.”
“The time to be sure.” Lorcan drags a hand down his face as he surveys the bloody mess before us. “Was before we went to war. We’re in it now. Whether we’re right to be here doesn’t matter anymore.”
Finn mocks opening a book and pretends to flip pages. “Ah, there we are. Lorcan and I on the same page. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
He shakes his head and glances at me out of the corner of his eye. It’s brief but in that moment, I know what he’s thinking regarding Finn.
“That recon rounded up two men?” Lorcan circles the chairs, unimpressed.
When Finn speaks again, he’s switched to Irish. “Settle, brother. The rooms are full down here. We rounded up a dozen or so men.”
I scan the room, taking in the stains, chains, and the methods of torture littering the small table in the corner.
“A dozen men?” Lorcan asks.
With a frown, I examine the corners of the room and turn to them. “You don’t have cameras down here?” I saw the list of men they were rounding up. They were Zhang’s heavy hitters. Twelve sounds about right.
Finn shoots me an annoyed look. “Yes, because we’d love to keep a record of what goes on down here.”
“You also don’t want people escaping.”
“Anyone we bring down here isn’t going to be running to the police,” Lorcan says. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“What have you been doing with the sex-and-child-trafficking rings you’ve been disrupting? What about those women and kids?”
The brothers exchange a heavy glance. Finn winces. “We’ve been offloading them to someone else.”
“Someone who helps them?” Even as I say it, I feel na?ve. The exchange between them didn’t suggest they were helping anyone but themselves.
“Maybe. Sure. Does that make you feel better, Kimmy? They’re being helped. They’re certainly helping us.”
Rage boils in me under the surface. I try to get Lorcan’s attention, but he’s focused on the two unconscious men.
“Well, it seems like the two of you have this figured out. I’m going back upstairs. I don’t want to see either of you anywhere near me until we’re leaving for The Cage.” I yank open the door.
As it slams shut, Finn’s chuckle echoes behind me.