Chapter 3
CONALL
Two weeks after Sloan went to jail, I got two wieners. Dogs, that is, not dicks. They weren’t the same as having Sloan at my side, but they were cute and kept me company.
It took Fionn exactly three hours of being in the house to notice the new additions.
“Why are there dachshund puppies in our home?” His eyes widened as he stared down at the two hyperactive doggies, who were barking wildly as they circled his feet.
One had a blue-and-tan dapple coloring while the other was a black-and-cream brindle.
Their nails clicked on the marble floor of the foyer and the noise echoed around the wide-open space like a catchy beat.
The sound was a nice change from the tune already playing in my head.
The melody had been on repeat since the night I’d heard the news: Sloan is behind bars.
The lyrics were the same repeatedly—you can do this, you have this, Sloan’s going to come home to you.
They were creations of my own consciousness, a mantra I told myself to keep going.
Daire stood behind Fionn with a confused frown.
His arms were crossed over his wide chest. The baby blue dress shirt he was wearing strained across his bulging muscles, particularly around his upper arms. He had the sleeves rolled above his elbows with his tattoos on full display.
Merely looking at him was a cruel reminder of Sloan, the man I lov—cared about.
Daire was his best friend and second-in-command.
“Sloan told me to get a couple of guard dogs.” I shrugged and fell on my knees, holding out my arms to my babies. “Come here, sweethearts. Come to Papa.”
Daire laughed, massaging his temples. “When he told you to get dogs, I’m sure he meant Rottweilers or German Shepherds, a breed that can rip out throats and keep you safe.” The tone in his voice gave away his stress.
“They can keep me safe,” I argued. “And I have Vail’s men if I need any more protection.”
Daire snorted.
I glared. “After that rude noise, you can’t touch my wiener.”
Fionn groaned and dropped his face into the palms of his hands.
“Conall. Christ.” He was also another reminder of Sloan because he was a younger version of him.
Fionn had a similar face structure, and God damn it, the exact same half smile.
I hated that he was here and Sloan wasn’t, which was a cruel thought because I liked Fionn, too.
Daire’s laughter deepened. “Don’t say that too loud. Rumors will get around, and I happen to like my head on my shoulders, so I’d rather not let Sloan think I touched your wiener, sir.”
“Good, because you aren’t allowed.” I nodded resolutely at him as Guinness and Whiskey came sprinting toward me as fast as their little legs would carry them.
I grabbed them in a bear hug, laughing as I fell backward on my arse while they wriggled like the two little demons they were.
Laying kisses across their small faces, I cooed.
I’d never had dogs, but I’d always wanted a couple, and they were as fun as I’d always imagined.
They also kept my mind off the pain that had free rein in the depths of my soul.
No matter how deep I buried the feelings, they were there.
Lingering. Reminding me of how much it hurt that Sloan wasn’t here.
“Does Uncle know you bought these puppies?” Fionn crinkled his nose, the familiar trace of disgust washing over his features. He’d softened a bit with me this year, seeing me as more of an ally rather than an enemy, but that didn’t mean I was free from his resting bitch face.
“Not yet. They’re a surprise for when he gets out of jail.”
Fionn scrubbed his face with both his hands. “He doesn’t like surprises.”
“He does when they come from me.” I shot him a wicked grin. “And if he wants to get his dick serviced, he’ll accept his new children.”
Guinness, the dapple dachshund of the two, yapped at me, and I scratched his head, then plopped a kiss on top. He licked me across the cheek, leaving behind a trail of saliva that had Fionn’s nose wrinkling even more. I didn’t give a shit, though.
“Ugh, I didn’t want to know that.” He eyed Guinness with trepidation.
“Oh please, don’t act like you haven’t seen him fuck me.” I shrugged. Sloan liked to stake his claim over me publicly. Nearly everyone in the Company had seen him take me.
“That’s something I don’t want to remember.” He heaved a sigh.
I grinned, ready to tease him more, but a cheerful tune echoed from my phone in my pocket. I knew the song immediately, since I’d chosen it specifically for Sloan and the new, illegal phone he’d obtained through connections in Rikers Island.
I glanced at Fionn when he shot me a curious stare.
“It’s Sloan. I better take it.” I held the phone tight in my fist as I rose and escaped the foyer.
Heading toward the formal dining room, I took a deep breath to steady myself.
My stomach clenched. I missed him so fucking much that it hurt to hear his voice. Two weeks was already too long.
I answered the call and raised the phone to my ear with a shaky hand. “Hey, Boss. How are you?”
“It’s jail, Pet.” Sloan’s gruff tone filtered through the line. “I’m doing as fine as I was last week.”
“I . . . .” Love you. I didn’t say it. Fuck that. We’d spent too long playing a game of resistance. If I was going to tell him what I felt, it wasn’t going to be while he was behind bars. And I also wasn’t going to be the first person to do it. He needed to fess up before I did. “I miss your dick.”
Sloan laughed, the sound flooding me with happiness I didn’t know I needed until now. The ache behind my ribs eased up slightly, and I closed my eyes as I took a seat at the dining table, imagining he was here with me and not in a cold dank cell.
“Do you?” he asked.
“Having to jerk off and fuck myself is very boring. I was almost tempted to liven up the mood with Fallon’s confetti dildo.” I grinned, despite the shit situation. His voice sent warmth through my chest and the clenching in my stomach released.
“Now that would be a sight to see. Haven’t you been using that dildo cast from my dick? We bought it for when I wasn’t there.”
I held in a laugh. We’d gotten a molding kit last year. We never expected to use it in a situation like this. The whole idea of buying it was for fun, and we were going to use it on my hole together, but we’d never had the chance to try.
I wished we had.
I still hadn’t used it. The dildo wasn’t the same thing and it would only make me miss Sloan even more than I already did—if that was possible. “I want you home, Boss. I need you here, not a fuck toy.”
“I promise I’ll do everything I can to get out of here. I’m working on it and so is Cashmore.”
I clenched my eyes tight, a red hot pain searing through me. Breathing felt like a thousand nails stabbing my lungs. “I know.”
“How is the Company? Is anyone giving you trouble?”
“Not yet,” I lied easily. I didn’t want to worry him.
He had more important concerns, like being in fucking jail.
Some of the men were beginning to express their dislike for me more openly with smart-arse comments and biting back against orders.
The cowards thought the Company was weak without Sloan, and they didn’t trust me and Fionn to run it, but I wasn’t going to worry Sloan with that.
“We’re handling it. You focus on getting out of there. Boss, I—”
The dial tone echoed in my ear, and I froze, eyes opening now that the fantasy had disappeared.
We’d been cut off, which didn’t happen often, but sometimes he had to end the call to avoid getting caught.
Having a secret phone in the cells would get him into massive trouble if it was found, so it was probably for the best. Telling Sloan anything mushy would have to wait until he was back in our bed, safe where he belonged.
“Conall, we need you out here. Now!”
Shoving my phone back into my pants pocket, I inhaled to settle myself.
The phone calls always shook me. When I slid the calm and confident facade back in place, I rose and stalked out of the dining room and into the foyer.
I bumped into a wall with my shoulder when a sudden attack of dizziness took over, but I managed to straighten up.
Grabbing my head, I stayed still for a second to gather myself before I started walking again.
I slowed down and halted when I caught sight of three strangers standing in front of Fionn and Daire in the foyer.
Their faces were oddly familiar, but I didn’t know them.
“Who are they?” I asked harsher than I’d meant to. While Sloan was in jail, I didn’t trust anyone. This was the time that the rats came up for air.
Fionn’s eyes burned with an anger I hadn’t seen from him in a few months and his hands were fists at his side.
Daire’s playful nature was gone, leaving behind the brutal enforcer I’d never truly met but had heard stories about. His spine was straight and his hand hovered near his hip, as though debating pulling out his gun. Fury danced over his face and the controlled glare sent shivers down my back.
Two of the uninvited guests were tall with broad shoulders and short dark hair and the third was half a head shorter and much younger, with a soft baby face and nostril piercing on each side of his nose.
One of the taller men stepped forward, a smirk playing lazily on his face as he held out his hand toward me.
He was clearly the oldest, with a sprinkle of gray at the temples, vibrant blue eyes, and a five-o’clock shadow.
The pointer finger on the left hand he held out to me had a thick silver band on it.
“The name’s Tiernan.” His voice curled with a thick Irish accent that wasn’t watered down like Cillian’s or Rowen’s, and it came out sharp, dangerous, and striking like a cobra.