CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
Griffin – September
I sit in my living room waiting for the budget vote. It’s being broadcast on C-SPAN. The senators are busy gathering in the chamber, talking and making their deals.
Ares showed up and has been quiet as usual, when he’s not leaving the room to take calls.
Shane and Connor arrived a few minutes earlier. Shane looks worried because he’s pragmatic, and likes things in order. I can’t read Connor, who I worry if this fails, will get on our plane, fly to DC, and start murdering people.
Me? I’m staying neutral as my eyes drift to the only thing that matters right now.
Ava. And the baby she’s carrying. Mine. Both of them. I only want what’s best for her. She is my family.
We’ve not announced the pregnancy and my brothers also don’t know that I’ve taken my promise to let her go in three months off the table. I think they can tell I’m head over heels for her, so it won’t be much of a shock when we make our announcements. For now, it’s our secret.
I’ve not kept many secrets from them. But I’m not their brother first anymore. I’m Ava’s husband.
“They’re starting,” my wife says, cranking the remote so we can hear.
The muted hum of C-SPAN fills the air, and the steady roll call of senators present to cast their votes echoes a symphony of names I don’t know. This is just another vote for these lawmakers. To me, today is a culmination of months of meetings, kissing ass, and veiled threats.
But whatever the outcome of this vote, nothing will change what Ava and I have. What we built together in the last four months as a couple. What we smashed down our walls for so we could come together and admit we need each other.
I sit on the edge of the white leather sofa, my fingers steepled under my chin, watching the screen. The room reaches a suffocating palpable tension, the weight of this vote pressing down on every breath around me.
Ava sits next to me, her hand slipping between my legs, gripping my inner thigh. Her posture is soft though, like she’s also going through the motions, pretending to care about this. Her sable eyes flick between the screen and me until she finally rests her head on my shoulder.
Connor and Shane sit perched in armchairs, coiled energy radiating from them. Their eyes are glued to the television. But opposite my brothers, Ares stands, a study in controlled emotion.
The success of the Greek Mafia, now firmly in his hands, depends on this vote as much as ours does. It is the vehicle of lasting peace for the next few years while we manage this project together.
Ares isn’t watching the vote, though. His eyes are squarely set on Ava and me. How close we’re sitting, her hands on me, how she looks like she adores me.
His jaw ticks and his dark eyes sharply watch us until a faint smirk builds on his lips. Only, I’m not sure what he’s happy about. That we’ve fallen for each other? Or that he thinks because I’ve fallen in love with his sister, he can use her against me.
Me? I’m not worried about that. At. All.
He appeared to enjoy thrusting a woman I didn’t want at me. I twisted that. It will be interesting to see how he handles love when it’s his turn.
The roll call starts, and when it reaches the M’s, my gut tightens. Shane hacked into the Senate whips ’ computers for each side and concluded this would come down to a tie, with only one undecided.
Kyle Miller.
The man tipping the scale in either direction is a career politician and the father of our enemy, Rand Miller.
The vote starts as a camera perched high up in the rafters stays on the Senate President pro tempore. She uses a podium to call out senators’ names in alphabetical order.
“Mrs. Ahern?”
“Aye.”
“Mrs. Ahern votes Aye.”
I look at my brothers, inwardly chuckling that they use ‘aye’ for yes in the United States Congress.
“Mr. Azir?”
“No.”
“Mr. Azir votes No. Mr. Bronson?”
“No.”
“Mr. Bronson votes No.”
This continues with senator after senator casting their votes.
“Aye.”
“No.”
“Aye.”
Shane listens, checking his phone back and forth to see if what each side’s whip counted matches the actual outcomes. When he meets my eyes, his wink tells me that so far everyone’s keeping their word.
But with the next No response, Shane mutters a curse under his breath and looks like it punched him in the gut.
“Shane, what happened?” I ask, my voice was tight.
“Hornin did a last-minute deal with Valentine,” he grumbles.
But with the recent Aye being announced, Shane looks up sharply. Smiling, he says, “Looks like Johnson flipped, too. We’re back on track.”
Ares shifts from side to side. “How will we know if more plan to flip?” he says, his accent smooth and controlled.
Shane answers after a moment looking at his phone again. “Both whips just sent an email, urging members to stick to the votes they counted on or there will be consequences.”
Ava whispers to me, “These whips have the leaders’ trust to go into these votes and not walk out looking like idiots with their tails between their legs.” Her knowledge is unrivaled in this room. “ Whips are third highest in both houses’ leadership, members don’t want to cross them.”
There’s no getting around politics anymore running a crime organization. I need Ava to monitor these backroom deals for me, see things even Shane can’t see.
I want her as the tip of my spear.
Whether she’s knifing someone to death, or crippling them politically .
Ares takes a seat, still watching us, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm on the arm of his chair.
Finally, the pro tempore reaches Kyle Miller. “Mr. Miller, Kyle.”
The room here holds its collective breath. Even the Senate floor goes quiet.
“Why can’t we see these fuckers?” I ask Shane, annoyed to only see the person recording the votes.
“The C-SPAN camera is stationary,” Ava answers. “Only when the other networks cover votes, you see all angles.”
The pro tempore looks out into the chamber where Miller sits. “Mr. Miller, Kyle?”
My jaw clenches so tight it hurts. Not to lose the deal, but to think a man would put his honor at stake for a son with sexual assault allegations against him.
Ava’s hand brushes against mine, grounding me. She leans closer and whispers, “No matter what, we’ll get through this.”
I tilt my head in agreement. Her words, her confidence in us loosens the knot in my chest.
“Mr. Miller, Kyle?” the pro tempore calls his name one last time.
If there’s one thing I know, family loyalty makes men unpredictable. Especially fathers. Kyle Miller has had a long career and a relatively successful one. Then along comes his son, who should have been a Navy SEAL with an honorable record. But he made the mistake of attacking my wife and as far as I’m concerned, he deserved to drown in that ocean.
Men who underestimate Ava either end up dead or paralyzed. Ask Brandon Keller. Oh, wait. You can’t. He’s the one who ended up dead, thinking he could keep her in a cage and then try to bargain with her.
Rand is a violent criminal. And just how far will Kyle go to protect his piece-of-shit son?
“Come on, you bastard,” I mutter under my breath.
And then: “Aye.”
“Mr. Miller, Kyle, votes Aye.”
His answer punctuates the silence in my living room like a gunshot, and the tension is shattered. Ava’s shoulders sag with relief. I turn to her, and cupping her face with both hands, I kiss her fiercely. Her lips part against mine, soft yet strong, grounding me in a way nothing else could.
The way no one else could.
When I pull back, I press my forehead to Ava’s and whisper, “It’s done.”
Her smile is small but triumphant. “Can I kill Rand now?”
I laugh and pull her head against my chest. “We’ll see, siren.”
Connor and Shane hug, their faces split into matching grins. I join their huddle, clapping them each on the back.
“Jesus, we’re going to be rich,” Shane says, his tone lighter than it’d been in hours.
“And busy,” Connor acknowledges.
“We’re already rich. And we’re already busy,” I say, glaring at Ares who needed this more than we did.
Across the room, he rises slowly from his seat, ever the stoic statue. His brothers aren’t here. Either he didn’t invite them, or they passed. He watches me with mine, and I detect a hint of jealousy. I thought I’d be ridding myself of him when I let Ava go.
If I’m keeping Ava, I guess I’m keeping him as a brother-in-law.
Ares crosses the room and extends a hand to me. I look down at it and pull the fucker in for a hug. I whisper in his ear, much like I did on New Year’s Day when he thought he had me cornered.
“We’re family now. We don’t shake hands. We hug. If you can’t bear my arms around you, fine. But my wife needs that warmth from you. You better learn how to show her some damn affection.” I release him.
The pro tempore still calls the votes, but it’s a formality now. The project will be funded.
Shane looks up from his phone and rings out in a surprised tone, “Put on CNN.”
I change the channel and see reporters chasing Kyle Miller down the corridor. He turns sharply, and a camera’s light shines on him.
“Sir, is it true about your son?” a female reporter asks.
I squeeze Ava’s hand as we exchange looks, and I want to say, ‘Did you kill him already?’
“Shane, what is it?” I mutter instead.
“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head.
Kyle Miller stares at the crowd, glancing from camera to camera, his face pinched as we wait to see what the hell he’s going to say. He reaches inside his suit jacket and takes out a pair of reading glasses. A young, thin man in a suit hands him a piece of paper.
He’s going to read from a written statement, and not make some impromptu speech an aide just whipped together for him.
Kyle Miller leans into the bank of wobbly microphones thrust at him. His skin pale, his cracked lips part to speak. “I would like to address a recent speculation regarding my son, Rand Miller.” Kyle’s voice is steady, but his expression betrays his discomfort of having to own up to what’s coming for his son. “Rand has battled an addiction to painkillers for years since his tragic accident training to be a Navy SEAL. It has taken a toll on all of us. I am pleased to share that he will be entering a rehabilitation facility immediately. We ask for privacy during this time.”
“Rehab, huh?” I stiffen, my fists clenching at my sides. “More like a convenient hiding spot.”
“Bastard is covering for his son.” Ava looks livid. “Miller’s not just an addict. He’s a violent liability.”
I take a breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “Rand Miller never faced consequences because his father has been cleaning up after him for years.”
Shane arches an eyebrow, his expression cool. “And now he’s putting the kid out of sight before the skeletons get loose.”
“Exactly,” I say. “Rehab isn’t about healing. It’s about buying time.”
Ava’s hand slides into mine, her touch grounding me again. “I got all the time in the world. I will make him pay. Eventually.”
“That’s my girl.” I lean in and kiss her.
Shane’s phone rings again, his expression unknowing. “Alo? What? When? ”
Aw, fuck. What now?
“I’ll leave you Quinlans to toil in your spoils.” Ares shakes my hand.
“Hey, you made a rhyme.” Connor punches him in the arm.
Ares stares down at his bicep. “If your name wasn’t Quinlan, I’d kill you.”
“Glad it’s my name now,” Ava says, folding her arms.
I bury my face in her hair. “And it’s fucking staying your name.”
Ares looks smug and wants to take credit for my happiness. I guess I’ll always be in his debt. He takes a step to leave, but I glare at him with my brutal reminder to show my wife some damn brotherly love.
He straightens and turns to his sister. “Be well, Ava. Don’t give your husband a hard time.”
And then he...hugs her.
Ava’s arms dangle at her side at first, looking shocked. I make a hugging motion. Jesus, I have to teach these two how to be human toward each other.
Finally, she does. A moment later, Ares resumes his robot-like stance and waltzes out my door.
I turn my focus to Shane, expecting to hear something terrible has happened that will force me out of the house when I want to spend all night making love to my wife. Touching her stomach and talking to our unborn child.
“Shane? What’s wrong?” I ask, ready for fucking anything at this point.
Smiling, he ends the call. “Nothing’s wrong at all. Sabine went into labor and had the baby!”
I step back. “Already?”
“Aye, her water broke. She had a few contractions and pop. We have a nephew!”
A male child! Not with our name. But still...
“Can we go see her?” Ava asks, sounding excited.
“Do you think she wants all of us in that hospital room after she’s given birth, feels exhausted, and probably looks wrung out?” Connor asks.
“Even more so!” Shane responds with a sinister tone, as only a twin would. “All that brat teased me with.”
“Let’s head over there and play it by ear,” I say. “But Grayson is her husband. What he says goes.”
“And he is taller than all of you,” Ava singsongs.
Where is six-foot-six Lachlan O’Rourke when I need him?