Chapter Fourteen
J ude knew he wasn’t alone the second he walked into his apartment.
It was one of three he kept in New York, all under different names that shouldn’t have been connected to his real identity.
He pulled his gun out of its holster and moved deeper into the apartment, bypassing the hallway that led to the two bedrooms and stopping just inside the doorway to the living area.
It wasn’t large by any means, but the floor-to-ceiling windows let in plenty of light to see the man sitting in Jude’s favorite chair.
He pointed the gun at him, pausing when the stranger leaned forward and clicked on the light.
Dmitri Romanov .
Jude didn’t holster his gun, but once he determined the other man didn’t have a weapon pointed at him, Jude let his arm fall to his side. “Very dramatic. How long did you sit in the dark, waiting for me?”
Dmitri gave a small smile. “Ah, but that would be telling. I have it on good authority that you’re in the neighborhood to see me.”
Goddamn it, Stefan . “I came to deliver my message in person, since you seem to have an issue understanding it over the phone. Sloan O’Malley is off-limits. Go find your petty revenge somewhere else.”
“Petty revenge, is it?” Dmitri laughed softly. “What is that saying? Those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. You of all people shouldn’t dismiss revenge.”
“It’s different.” He wasn’t forcing anyone else to be part of his revenge. Jude had enough shit on his plate with the Sheridans. He didn’t need to borrow vendettas and the trouble that came with them.
“Is it?”
He stroked the trigger of his gun. “Sloan has no part of this. You and I can reach an understanding in regards to Sheridan, but you’ll keep her out of your plans.”
“It’s not your decision to make.”
Jude considered him, pausing to look around the living room again. No one else here . “What’s to stop me from putting a bullet between your eyes and ending the threat to my woman?” My woman. Fuck, why the hell did I just say that?
Dmitri, that crafty bastard, caught his slip. He raised his eyebrows. “Yours, is she? Now that is interesting.”
“On second thought.” Jude shifted his stance, sighting down his gun. “I think I’ll just kill you and be done with it. I don’t need your permission or your money to take out Colm Sheridan. I bet Aiden O’Malley would send me a Thank You card.”
“With your dirty MacNamara hands all over his sweet and innocent sister? I think not.” Dmitri laughed again, and this time it actually sounded real. “I doubt you can see the irony from where you’re standing, but it truly is amusing in the extreme.”
“I’m bored of your games.”
“Then stop playing.” Just like that, the amusement disappeared from Dmitri’s face and he straightened, his hands carefully set on the arms of the chair and away from his sides.
“You’re a MacNamara. The O’Malleys might have been just getting started in the game when Colm Sheridan made the move to clear out your family, but the cruelties of your father are well-known.
You’re as bad as a Romanov in their minds—worse in some ways because you might actually have a claim to the power scheme in Boston if you were an ambitious man.
” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Are you an ambitious man, Jude?”
“I have my own plans. I don’t need your shit fucking them up.”
Dmitri’s gaze flicked to the gun and away. “I’m an ally—currently—and you seem to have a shortage of those. Think about it. I’ll even let you keep the O’Malley girl if that will sweeten the pot.”
“How charitable of you.” Jude knew what he was doing. The man wanted him for some purpose, and he was willing to bargain to get Jude on his side. He took a careful step back into the hallway, keeping Dmitri in sight. “I’ll consider your offer.”
“I’m not the enemy here. The O’Malleys may like to paint me the villain, but they put themselves in this position. They didn’t honor their word. At the very first opportunity, they turned on me without warning.”
And Dmitri was just an innocent? Doubtful. The man was a wolf who didn’t bother to wear the sheep’s clothing. Jude holstered the gun. “If I see a single one of your men near Sloan, they’re dead.”
“I’m more than willing to grant you Sloan in return for Colm’s death. I would think you’d be jumping at the deal.”
There was no missing the threat that wasn’t quite a threat.
Dmitri might sweeten the deal with Sloan because he wanted Sheridan dead, but if Jude didn’t fall in line like a good little soldier, the man would have no problem taking her.
I’d need an army to hold his people off—or at least a better hiding spot .
He’d consider his options once he was back in Callaway Rock—back with Sloan.
For now, he knew damn well that Dmitri wouldn’t let him walk without agreeing to this. “I already took your damn contract.”
“Yes, you did. And breaking your word won’t be without consequences.” Romanov rose and buttoned his suit jacket. “You’d do well to remember that if you suddenly have a change of heart.”
***
“Good job today.”
Sloan smiled at Marge. “Thanks.” Ten days since Jude had gone and she was finally getting to the point where she wasn’t afraid Marge would fire her on the spot one day.
She even sort of liked the gruff older woman.
Marge told it like she saw it and, as a result, Sloan always knew where she stood with her—and her compliments were worth their weight in gold.
Marge eyed her. “I think we can set up a more regular schedule going forward. You good with mornings?”
“Sure.” Sloan didn’t have a preference either way, but she did enjoy the breakfast shift.
She still didn’t know most of the residents of Callaway Rock by anything other than their faces, but she was learning names as she went.
They all seemed to come through the diner at least one day a week to take breakfast from Marge and catch up with friends. It was downright cozy.
“We’ll have you working the eight-hour shift from six to two, Wednesday to Sunday. If you need time off, I need minimum of two weeks’ notice. You sick, you better be sick or—”
“I’m fired.”
Marge snorted. “Something like that. Now git. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
Because the longer Jude was gone, the more difficult it was to drown out the little voice in her head saying that something terrible had happened to him.
She lay in bed and tried to imagine what could have pulled him away.
If he was really the hired gun Sorcha swore he was, had he left to take a job?
The thought made her sick to her stomach.
She managed a smile, though, for Marge. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Sloan raised her voice. “Bye, Luke.”
“Don’t forget your grub.” He slid a foam container through the pass-through. For whatever reason, he seemed to think she needed to fatten up a bit, so he slipped her food at the end of each shift.
“Thank you.” She accepted the food and headed for the door. It was well past the lunch rush hour, so there was no one about as Sloan kicked off her shoes and headed down the sandy beach for home.
Home.
She wasn’t sure when the O’Connor house had become home, but it was. She still missed her siblings something fierce, but she had to admit she liked her life here. She liked her job, enjoyed the people who lived in Callaway Rock.
And Jude…
Well, Jude was something else altogether.
And he’s still not back .
He hadn’t even left her a number to contact him.
Not that she’d call, because what was there to say?
They didn’t have a relationship, not really.
He’d been very, very clear about what her expectations should be, and she’d accepted his terms the same way he’d accepted hers.
Changing the rules now wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
Except that broken condom might have gone and done exactly that.
Sloan had to make an effort not to press her hand to her stomach.
She didn’t feel any different. But then, the websites she’d looked up said it could be weeks yet for the hormones to build up enough to exhibit some kind of physical response in her body—which was right around the time she could actually take an over-the-counter pregnancy test.
Weeks of not knowing.
Anxiety rose in a tidal wave, threatening to send her curling up into a ball and waiting for all this to blow over. She fought the feeling. That is not who I am anymore. I’m stronger than I used to be . She would find a path forward, one way or another.
As she approached her house, a flash of movement in the window next door caught her attention.
Her heart leaped into her throat, and she stopped, wondering if she should call the police.
If her family—or their enemies—had found her, the local sheriff would be in over his head and she’d likely be consigning him to his death. What do I do?
The choice disappeared as the door opened. Jude . Relief made her sway, but as quickly as it had come, it vanished, morphing into anger. Ten days. He’s gone ten days and he doesn’t bother to let me know he’s okay.
Has he been back and just didn’t tell me?
The jagged feeling inside her spiked with every step she took, until she was nearly running. Sloan marched up the steps to his porch and kept going, only stopping when she was as in his face as she could be with their height difference. “You should have called.”
“I was occupied.”
Occupied… occupied . She pushed at his chest, hating that she couldn’t move him even when she tried.
“That’s a pathetic excuse. You show up ten days— ten days —ago, telling me to watch my back and that you’d return as soon as you are able to, and then you don’t bother to say a single thing until I’m walking past, minding my own business.
No. Enough. I’m done.” She started to turn, but he snagged her wrist.
“Sloan.”
Her name. Not sunshine. She yanked on his hold, but she might as well have tried to fight a tidal wave. “Let go.”
“Are you pissed I was gone so long, or that I didn’t come crawl into your bed like a whipped dog the second I hit the town limits?” Nothing on his face but a faint smirk. Nothing. Not a hint of the feeling she’d gotten from him before.
She hated how controlled he was, hated even more how out of control he made her feel. I know what to do to crack that mask . She squared her shoulders and met his dark eyes. “I kept myself plenty occupied while you were gone.” She enjoyed throwing that word back into his face.
“Is that so?” He pulled her toward him, inch by inch, closing the distance between them. “Because I think you went out of your fucking mind without my cock to keep you happy.”
“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes even as her body sparked at his words. “I lived my entire life without you and your dick. A week of sex isn’t enough to ruin me for anyone else, no matter how highly you think of yourself.”
His brows slanted down, and he looked downright murderous for the first time since they’d first met.
“You know damn well that I’ve ruined you for any other man.
” He stepped into the house, towing her behind him, ignoring her gasp of outrage.
“I think you stroked yourself to the memory of me a couple times a day the entire time I was gone. In fact, I don’t think—I know. ”
She wanted to spit and claw and say anything to bring him down a notch, but fury stole her wits. “You have a high opinion of yourself.”
“Nah, I know the truth.” He sat down on his couch, yanking her forward to sprawl on his chest. His hands hit her waist the same time his lips brushed her ear. “And, sunshine, what you were doing before wasn’t fucking living and you know it.”