Chapter 17 Conal
Conal
Rain hit me in the face as I stood on the porch examining the security feeds.
Even the guards stood huddled under trees and or in their huts.
Not that I blamed them. I doubted the O'Rourkes would pop up today.
They were too busy licking their wounds and counting the cost of their failed strike against us.
Thank fuck Declan had kept the story mostly out of the media. Everyone who came to the party had signed cast-iron NDAs, which prevented them from speaking to the press. There were a few rumors about the attack circulating on social media, but nothing concrete.
The few journalists who had tried sniffing around got nowhere. Like always. Romy Fortescue, Declan’s PR woman, was like a pitbull. She’d shut down the red tops fast.
Declan paid people in high places a lot of money to keep our business private. The last thing we needed was a headline in the Daily Mail.
Liam O'Rourke had gone to ground since the attack, leaving Dubai for a unknown destination. Probably South America.
Good riddance to bad rubbish. I hoped the cartel chewed him up and spat out the remains. He was incapable of playing with the big boys. The idiot had zero common sense, which combined with his delusions of grandeur, had led to his current predicament.
An unexpected figure popped up on the screen, wandering toward the rose garden in the pouring rain. What the actual fuck was Verity up to?
Declan had politely suggested she stay indoors for a few days while we got a handle on the security situation. I'd not seen her since I walked in on her in the library with my brother, but from what Mrs. O'Mara had told me, Verity had been spending most of her time in her room.
Guilt stabbed me right in the gut. Of course, she was upset. I should have stopped Ronan after seeing the way he looked at her, and instead of telling him to leave her the fuck alone, I'd ignored the problem.
Not that I was much better. My head was full of Verity these days. To the point Maeve had accused me of cheating on her.
Verity passed under the stone arch into the rose garden and disappeared from view. We had no cameras in there. Ma had put her foot down about that.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and jogged across the garden, not enjoying the way the rain soaked through my shirt. Satan's balls, if it felt cold to me, she must be freezing. Thea would kill us all if her sister ended up in a hospital bed with pneumonia.
When I entered the garden, I spotted her on the bench with her face tilted up to the sky, eyes closed. Damn, she was beautiful. Naturally beautiful. Not a scrap of makeup on her face.
Unlike the women I usually dated, Verity wasn't vain. She rarely bothered with makeup, and I doubted she cared about fillers and Botox.
The bone-deep sadness etched into her face stopped me in my tracks. The raindrops sliding down her face resembled tears. Was my angel crying?
The thought she might be in the middle of a mental health crisis sent me into a panic. Fucking Ronan. He should never have touched her. Not knowing how vulnerable she was.
"What the fuck are you doing out here?" I winced inwardly at the way the words came out. Having a go at her wasn't my intention, but from the way her expression shut down, it sure sounded like I was.
"Meditating?" I relaxed a fraction at the sass in her words, but when she refused to meet my eyes, I made a split-second decision. My angel needed to get out of here. Frankly, so did I.
"Come on." I held out my hand.
"Why? I'm fine." Her bottom lip popped out in a pout. Fucking adorable.
"You're not fine. Now move before I throw you over my shoulder."
Outrage flared in her eyes. Outrage was good. Way better than the shut-down mask she wore so often these days.
"You wouldn't…"
"Don't test me, sweetheart." I was more than willing to haul her ass out of here if she protested.
Verity hesitated when I opened the passenger door of my SUV. She'd changed into some jeans and a thick sweater, but her hair still hung in a damp braid down her back.
"I thought I wasn't supposed to go anywhere," she pointed out.
"On your own, yes, but with me, you're safe."
"Really?" I caught the skepticism in her voice.
"Get in." Time was ticking on. If Declan saw me leave with Verity, he'd want to know what the fuck I was up to. Thankfully, Ronan was with his pigs, so I didn't need to worry about him hijacking my date.
And it was a date, even if I preferred not to call it that.
Verity's pretty brown eyes widened when we pulled up outside a small cafe on the cliff overlooking the churning ocean. The place was barely more than a shack, but Jo Rosetti did good business selling coffee and cakes to the tourists and locals, all of whom appreciated excellent coffee.
The fact the café stood adjacent to a scenic walking trail helped. Tourists came for the views and stayed for the baked goods.
Jo looked surprised when I strolled in with Verity, my hand resting on the small of her back. She wasn't used to seeing me with a woman. I usually called in for fresh coffee on my way to and from the city. Jo brewed her coffee strong, just the way I liked it.
"Conal Kelly. Long time no see, amico." From the twinkle in Jo's eye as she observed Verity, an interrogation was imminent.
"Been busy, Jo, as I'm sure you've heard."
She stopped wiping the counter and fixed me with a concerned look.
"Everyone's OK, yes?"
"Yeah. We're all good." I lowered my voice. "The O'Rourkes, not so much."
She chuckled, the weathered skin around her dark eyes crinkling with amusement.
"I had heard that." Then her smile faded.
"If I pick up anything, I'll pass it on." Jo had long been a useful source of intelligence for me. She caught things spoken in passing, and when it affected me and mine, she let me know. I appreciated her loyalty. After Ma died, she'd been someone to talk to.
"Now what can I get you two lovebirds?"
I watched with amusement when Verity's cheeks flushed pink as she stared at the glass cabinet of Italian pastries.
She hesitated for a beat before asking, "Did you make the cannoli?"
Jo smirked. "Of course, cara. Everyone loves my cannoli."
A smile lit up Verity’s face. It was as if the sun had broken through the clouds.
"Can I have one, please? And a double shot espresso, black, no sugar."
"My usual, please." Jo winked at me and sashayed off toward the big, shiny coffee machine, clearly brimming with intrusive questions, but savvy enough not to bombard me with them. No doubt the next time I stopped by for coffee, she'd give me the full Spanish Inquisition treatment.
"I had no clue this place existed." Verity gazed around in wonder as we took a table overlooking the bay. Thick clouds, heavy with the promise of more rain, scurried across the sky. Minutes later, fat drops fell, lashing the salty windows.
"I've been coming here for years. Jo's coffee is the best for miles."
"The cannoli looks good, too." A small smile lifted her plump lips, and immediately my thoughts fell into the gutter, picturing those same lips wrapped around my cock. Fuck my life. There was a place reserved for me in hell.