Chapter 17
Declan
I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers and let out a long sigh before looking at Silas and Hayden again. “Run this by me one more time,” I demand in a low voice and narrow my eyes.
Hayden opens his mouth to speak, but Silas cuts him off with a glare. “Cliff Notes version, because if I have to listen to Hayden repeat this one more time for the fourth day in a row I will lose my shit,” Silas says and leans his elbows against the kitchen table. “We scoped the place out. Found a shit ton of weapons and disguises that would put even Austin Powers to shame. Got attacked by a demon dog and narrowly made it out with all our body parts intact. Then we came home, called you with a recap, called Mr. O’leary with a recap, and then waited for you to get off your assignment to come here for a recap in person.”
I roll my eyes as Silas ticks the events off on his fingers one by one. Now that we’re all sitting down together, maybe I can nail out the missing details. “What kind of weapons? What kind of disguises?” I ask slowly, resting my elbows on the table and steepling my fingers in front of my nose.
“The kind of weapons that a secretary has no business wielding,” Hayden mutters and picks at a chip on the tabletop. “They’re hiding something over at The Crown. That woman is…” He stops and shakes his head.
“The disguises are elaborate. I mean, custom wigs, makeup, different color contact lenses, prosthetics. It was like being backstage on a movie set,” Silas states and shifts in his chair. His discomfort is evident.
“Spit it out. You’re not telling me something. Both of you,” I add sternly and gesture for someone to speak.
“She was the woman I met in the coffee shop a few weeks ago. She, uh…” His cheeks flush as he shifts in his chair.
“Gave you the best blowjob of your life in a club bathroom?” Hayden supplies wryly.
“Yeah,” Silas mumbles and keeps his eyes on the floor.
Hayden continues before I can comment. “I saw her on my last assignment. She was… I literally cannot find the words to describe her other than a goddess of death. I’ve been watching her closely,” he admits quietly.
“Do you think she knows something?” I ask him pointedly.
“I don’t know. At first it was just intel, but now… I can’t stop. She’s hypnotic… addicting… and I find myself chasing her for another high.” Hayden meets my eyes and for the first time, I can see the emotions swirling within his irises.
“So, what you’re telling me is that you are both obsessing over the same pussy?” I ask crassly and shake my head. “Unbelievable. My team is falling apart at the seams over a pair of hypnotic green eyes and a tight cunt,” I mutter and fold my arms across my chest.
“So you agree that they are hypnotic,” Silas chuckles and leans forward to catch my eyes.
“I won’t let some chick get in the way of my assignments, no matter what her eyes look like or what her pussy feels like,” I snap at him and he flinches. Guilt flares in my chest as I watch his eyes fall and he sags in the chair.
“It feels like heaven,” Hayden murmurs reverently, still lost in thought. I slam my hand down on the table and he cuts his eyes to me. “What? You know how horny I get during a gunfight. She was covered in blood and debris, and I just had to taste her.”
“You did what?” Silas roars and bolts to his feet, the chair nearly toppling to the floor. His chest is heaving and his eyes flash with anger and pain.
“I didn’t know she was the one you were after,” Hayden says calmly. “After we cleared out of the warehouse I gave her a ride to a car. I couldn’t stop myself even if I had wanted to.” His voice softens and his eyes glaze over. “She was perfection on the seat of my bike, and I lost all control with her. Literally,” Hayden whispers and clenches his hands into tight fists.
Well that explains the bike fetish he has developed.
“Well in that case,” Silas concedes quietly and moves to walk away from the table, but he turns on his heels and lunges at Hayden. They both crash to the floor in a heap of flying fists and strings of curses.
“For fuck’s sake!” I bellow and rush over, grabbing Silas by the back of his hoodie to yank him off of Hayden. The sole of my boot presses down on Hayden’s chest, preventing him from rising. I stand over both of them and scowl. “Throwing hands is my job. I suggest you both take a few minutes to cool down. We have bigger targets to drop, and I need you both focused.”
Silas jerks out of my grasp and stomps down the hall. A moment later his door slams. I remove my foot from Hayden’s chest. He sits up slowly, licking the blood from his busted lip and sporting an already swelling eye. “I never thought I’d see the day that one erupted,” he mutters as he takes my hand, and I pull him to his feet.
My cellphone vibrates in my back pocket with an incoming call. I pull it out and grind my teeth together. “Are you fucking serious?” I mutter and show the screen to Hayden.
He rolls his eyes and makes a beeline for the exit, disappearing into the garage. His bike engine rumbles to life, and I hear the squeal of tires as he peels it down the driveway.
“O’leary,” I answer smoothly and lean my hip against the counter.
“Mr. Kennedy,” he purrs, his Irish accent thick. “I am waiting for a solution to the problem I presented you with. As I told you weeks ago, I am not a patient man.” He pauses for a long moment. “Why is my mark still breathing?”
“We are working on gaining more intel. I’m sure you understand that this can’t be a hasty move. We don’t want any implications coming back to the Irish or to our team. We have to make calculated moves. These things take time,” I explain slowly and clench my fist in my pocket.
I want nothing more than to put my fist through the drywall, or someone’s face, at this moment. My fingers itch for the feeling of cartilage crunching beneath them. “We have a new development, and I think this will be our way in,” I say vaguely, not wanting to give too many details in case they decide to take matters in a different direction. “As always, I will keep you abreast of the situation.”
“That’s good. Very good,” he murmurs thoughtfully. “See that you do. I’d hate to think that your incompetence could cause you to lose a valuable asset. It would be such a waste.”
I bristle at his blatant threat. “Understood.” I hang up and drop the phone into my jacket pocket. “God dammit!” I shout and slam my palms down onto the counter. The loud slap echoes through the house, and I’m surprised that the granite didn’t crack under the force.
I need an outlet for this pent-up rage, and I need it now. I grab my keys and set my sights on the only place that I can truly let all my rage and fury run rampant without repercussions. If I can’t stalk the streets and put a bullet through someone, then I’ll settle for sending my fists through their face. And the only place to do that is the underground fighting ring in the West District.
*****
Four days later
I shift in my seat, leaning forward to brace my forearms on my knees. The conference room above The Black Crown is empty except for me and Emelia, but she is oblivious to my presence. Her fingers fly across the keys on her laptop and her eyes never leave the screen. I take a moment to really look at her features while she is otherwise occupied.
From her profile it’s obvious that she has a dainty nose and high cheekbones. Her dark hair is swept up into a messy bun on the top of her head with two wooden pencils sticking out on either side. Her long, slender neck leads down to a pair of strong shoulders and small breasts, which are currently hidden beneath a maroon hoodie with the words “Bite Me” written across the front.
The boys were right, her features are stunning, but I can’t help the anger churning in my gut at this innocent woman sitting across from me. She’s currently driving a wedge so far between my team that I’m worried we’ll splinter under the force.
“Where’s your phone?” she asks suddenly without looking up.
“My phone?” I repeat, confused.
“Yeah. You know, the little digital brick you carry around and are always talking on?” Her sarcasm makes my palm twitch. I’d lay her out across my knee for that smart mouth in a heartbeat.
“It’s in my pocket. Why?”
“If you just take a picture it will last longer,” she retorts with a smirk and finally meets my eyes. “I can feel you staring a hole through my temple.”
I stare at her with a smirk of my own. That mouth. Oh what I would do to that mouth. She doesn’t look away, holding my gaze with defiance. Her eyebrow arches, like she’s waiting for my response, but I don’t give her one. We continue to stare at each other, neither of us backing down from our battle for dominance.
Emerson clears his throat. “I truly don’t want to clean blood off the floor again this week. Put the death glares away. I only have a few minutes.” He looks pointedly at Emelia, and she scrunches her nose up slightly before returning to her typing.
I stand and button my suit jacket before reaching out to shake his hand. “Thank you for the last minute meeting. I just wanted to touch base and let you know that Silas has some ideas of where the attacks might have come from, but he’ll need more time to investigate.”
Emerson nods slowly and folds his arms across his chest. Hector steps into the room and moves to the back wall, keeping both Emelia and Emerson in his direct line of sight. From the corner of my eye, I see Emelia reach up to adjust the pencil in her hair before continuing her assault on the keyboard.
“That won’t be a problem,” Emerson says smoothly. His eyes flick to Hector briefly before settling back onto my face. “I trust that you’ll let us know as soon as you find something.” I nod once. “Good,” he states and turns to leave. “Emelia, I have to run to another meeting. Would you make sure Mr. Kennedy doesn’t need anything else from us at this time.”
“Aye Aye, Captain,” she says with a mock salute as he leaves the room with Hector close on his heels. Hector spares one final glance at Emelia before glaring at me and disappearing after Emerson.
“Well?” she says after a brief pause. “What do you need?”
“Answers, Ms. Pendleton,” I say darkly. “I need answers. How about a game?” I nod to a deck of cards spread across the opposite end of the table. “Do you play?”
She pushes to her feet and slides the cards into her palm, clumsily shuffling them once. “Only if you want to play spider solitaire or go fish,” she admits sheepishly and drops the cards into my outstretched palm.
“Surely you’ve gambled before?” I raise an eyebrow and bite my lip to hide a smile at her obvious discomfort. “You work for one of the most lucrative gambling dens in the city. You are literally the king’s right-hand man! How do you not know how to play cards?” I shuffle the deck with a flourish, the cards gliding from my left hand to my right. My eyes narrow in on her face, looking for a tell. Surely she doesn’t expect me to believe she doesn’t know how to gamble.
“It wasn’t a job requirement.” A small shrug of her shoulders only spurs me on. I bite the inside of my jaw to hide my smirk. This is going to be far too easy. “I’m always needed elsewhere when they have business in the den,” she explains and wraps her arms around herself. She is the picture of nervous energy, and her uncertainty gives me pause.
“I see…” I pause and walk a slow circle around her. She doesn’t move an inch, but her eyes follow my every move while I’m in her line of sight. “Let me show you. Then we can play for real.” I sit down at the table and gesture for her to sit across from me. She does without argument, but I swear I catch a glimpse of mischief in her eyes before she slides her chair up to the table.
“What would we even use as stakes? Clearly you don’t need my money.” She gestures to my custom black suit. “I’m not playing strip poker,” she says indignantly and folds her arms across her chest.
I laugh quietly and shake my head, trying to bury the image of her slipping out of her tight jeans and revealing what lies hidden underneath. “Don’t tempt me, Emelia. I have been known to be a sore loser,” I rumble and shuffle the deck again.
“I can only imagine.” She rolls her eyes and by all that is holy, I find the strength to fight the urge to turn her ass pink beneath my hand. She takes note of my clenched jaw and innocently says, “Proceed.”
“Secrets,” I whisper seductively. “Answers. I don’t want you naked in front of me. I just want you to be honest. Can you handle that?” I ask and place one card face down on the table for each of us. She nods. “We’re playing five card stud,” I state and deal another card to each of us, this one face up. “Try to build the largest hand with the cards you’re dealt.”
I spend the next hour explaining the rules in detail to her. Showing her examples of hands and what card sets hold more value and which ones to avoid. She picks up on some things quickly, but others take a few times before she gets the hang of it. I walk her through the details, patiently explaining card values and dealer etiquette. All while watching her facial features closely, looking for any misstep, but finding none. Perhaps I can get what I’m looking for quickly.
“So if I get two kings and three fives that’s a good hand?” she asks and reveals her cards. Guilt pulses through me as I watch her innocently tapping the two kings.
“Yes. And that means you win because I only have a pair of fours,” I explain patiently. My stomach dips when she directs a bright smile at me. Her chin dimples and had I been standing my knees would have buckled. I can’t find her attractive. She’s tearing my family apart. “Let’s play a real hand. Winner gets a truth.”
“I don’t know, Declan, that seems a little too much. I can’t just go spilling company secrets to anyone with a high hand. I don’t know if I’m comfortable with losing secrets. Or clothes,” she adds quickly before I can suggest switching to strip poker.
“Darling,” I whisper, my voice low and rough. “I think you and I both know that you have given up much more than a few pieces of clothing to get something that you want.” I watch with satisfaction as my tone does its job. She squirms in her seat and swallows hard. Her bottom lip slips between her teeth but says nothing.
I fight a shudder as I imagine my teeth pulling at that lip. That’s all the answer I need. I deal a new hand and promptly lose. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
“What are you really doing here Declan?” she asks as I shuffle the deck again.
“I’m looking for answers,” I repeat honestly and meet her gaze. “My brother is obsessed with you and I want to find out why.” She nods as I flip more cards out. My hand is higher. My turn to ask. “What were you doing at the sex trafficking warehouse?”
She freezes and looks up sharply. “He told you?” I nod once and wait. “I was blowing off some steam. I get… Restless sitting behind a computer all day.”
I win again. “My other brother is heartbroken that you left him on read,” I state. “Care to tell me about Silas?”
Her shoulders tense again. “Met him in a coffee shop. I’ve been busy.” Her eyes dart around the room nervously, and I know that I’ve caught her off guard.
I nod again and deal another losing hand for myself.
She bites her lip and meets my eyes. “I have two out of the three,” she says slowly and leans forward, her expression morphing into something dark and seductive. “When are you going to fold?”
Her question takes me by surprise, and I almost laugh. This woman is night and day. I can’t get a good read from her. “I don’t bend, sweetheart, I’m usually the one doing the breaking. The question is…” I lean forward and level her with a dark gaze. “When am I going to break you?”
Her cheeks flush, and I can see her breath catch in her throat. My cock twitches in my trousers. I’m starting to see the appeal. I grin and deal my final hand.
She looks down at the cards and shakes her head. “Must be beginner's luck.” She reveals a full house. I flip my own cards and frown. “What a shame,” she says softly and rises to her feet, her sultry voice sending a jolt straight to my dick. “Dead man’s hand.” Her heels click across the floor as she heads to the door. “Better luck next time.” Without waiting for a response, she disappears through the door.
Her words tumble through my mind like a rockslide. How would she know that hand if she’s never played? Why did she not seem too rattled when she found out that I knew about the guys? What was she really doing here?
I sit staring at the pair of black eights and black aces lying across the table while nursing a semi-hard cock. There’s no doubt in my mind that we are going to have to get her out of our systems, and the only way to get her out is to get our dicks in. We need to fuck her, and soon, before the whole assignment blows up in our faces.
I pull my phone to my ear and make a call. “Find the masks, boys, because we’re going out to play,” I say and am met with silence. I know both Hayden and Silas know what this means, and a part of me considers that this might be a bad idea, but the other part wonders if we should have done this the night we found her in that alley covered in blood and sin. The one thing I know for certain is that Emelia has ghosts that she’s trying to keep in their graves.
She’s keeping secrets, and I intend to unearth them all.