Chapter Eight
Cian
I ran my hands through my hair as I stared at the wall. I turned and opened my mouth, not knowing what words would spill out when her phone rang. The look on her face when she saw the number was quick, but I caught something that looked like a mix of irritation and fear.
She turned around as she answered it. “Now is not a good time.” Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a breath. She looked over her shoulder at me and said, “I have company.”
I moved closer, hoping to catch the voice on the other end of the line.
“I’ll call you back when I can,” she ground out before disconnecting the call.
“Who was that?” I asked, knowing she wouldn’t tell me.
“None of your business,” she answered as she turned back to me. “Is there anything else you would like to accuse me of?”
“Caity,” I began, an apology forming in my head.
“Don’t fuckin’ bother.” She waved her hand in the air, dismissing me.
“You could have simply asked about the clinic, Ci. Instead, you bust in here accusing me of wanting to kill my only child. How do you think she would feel if she heard you? Do you think she would have believed me when I said that wasn’t why I was there? She already hates me enough.”
She was right. I should have trusted her. Caity loved Maddie more than her own life, and I knew everything she’d done had been to protect our daughter. Caity would have sacrificed her own life if it meant Maddie would be safe.
“I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough, Ci. You didn’t trust me.” Her voice was quiet and sad. As though my trust in her, or lack of, broke something that was already hanging on by a thread.
“You haven’t given me much reason to trust you, Caity.”
Her green eyes shimmered with a vibrant gold as she snarled, “Get. Out.”
“Caity.”
“I mean it. Get out of my house.” Her expression was set in stone now. There was no changing her mind. I sighed heavily, knowing I’d fucked up. I turned around and reached for the door. But before I opened it, I looked over my shoulder. “You know I can find out who you were talking to, right?”
“But you won’t,” she said confidently. “Not if you want me to trust you.”
I yanked the door open and walked out. She was right. Digging into her phone calls would be a breach of trust. If I’d kept my mouth shut and just done it, things would be different. There were other ways to get around that, though.
“What?” Sal answered when I dialed his number.
“I want to put cameras in Eamon’s house.”
The line went quiet, but I didn’t bother to check the connection. I knew Sal. He was mulling over all the different reasons why I would be spying on his sister.
“Why?”
“How much do you want to know?”
“Is this personal or business?” I stopped walking at his question. I wouldn’t lie to him. I’d never actually lied to Sal. We’d all kept things from him until he needed to know, but never outright lied to him.
“Both.”
“Something I should know about? She is my sister.”
“I’m headed back to the office. I’ll explain everything when I get there. Have Duncan and Mac there too.”
I disconnected the phone. It was time to shit or get off the fucking pot. Sal and I needed to work this shit out because my life wasn’t worth a damn without Caity in it. And I was ready to make a move.
By the time I returned to the office, Mac met me at the elevator.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Nope. But it’s got to be done.”
Mac nodded and followed me to Sal’s office. Duncan was already there, sitting in the corner with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
“Little early, don’t you think?”
“Not when you call the boss asking for permission to stalk his sister,” he answered, taking a big sip from his glass.
“I’m not stalking her. For Christ’s sake, Duncan.”
“Then explain to me why you want cameras in her home, invading her privacy,” Sal demanded, his eyes cold as he stared at me, waiting for my answer.
“You know I’ve been looking into everyone. Well, I found a record from an abortion clinic.”
“She got a fuckin’ abortion?” Sal ground out, his teeth clenched tightly.
“No. It was almost thirty years ago. She wasn’t even there looking for information about abortion but, like you, I jumped to conclusions and went over to confront her.”
“Why was she at a clinic then? Why not see the regular doctor?” Mac asked.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Duncan gulp down the rest of his whiskey before standing and pouring another glass. He took the second glass and set it on the desk in front of Sal.
“Drink,” he commanded.
“What?” Sal looked up at him.
“If he’s about to say what I think he is, you’re gonna need a drink. So drink!” He tapped his finger in front of the glass, and Sal looked at me. My face must have confirmed something because he lifted the glass and drank the contents, setting the empty glass on the desk.
“Tell me.”
“She went to get tested.”
“For what?” Sal asked. I rolled my eyes and wondered how this man was in charge. Yes, he was the heir who’d killed his father and taken over, but for all his bluster, he was fucking stupid when it came to family.
“For an STD,” Mac confirmed.
A beat passed before his words registered in Sal’s brain. He swiped up the empty glass and threw it across the room, where it shattered against the wall.
“That was when she found out about Maddie,” I quickly added. “The reason I want the cameras is that while I was there, she received a suspicious phone call.”
“So look at her fuckin’ call log,” Sal snapped.
“I promised her I wouldn’t do that.”
All three men looked at me with different expressions. Sal’s mouth hung open, as if he were shocked I’d made his sister such a promise. Mac shook his head at me. He thought I was being a pussy in regard to my relationship, or lack thereof, with Caity. And Duncan had a shit-eating grin on his face.
He knew I was a pussy when it came to Caity. The same as he was with Freyja.
“Fine, put the fuckin’ cameras in the house.” His eyes narrowed, and he pointed at me. “Not in her bedroom or bathroom,” he ordered.
“I’m not a fuckin’ voyeur.”
Sal snorted as if he didn’t believe me, and if I was being honest, without a direct order, I likely would have put one in both. At least one over her bed so I could watch her sleep. One over her shower couldn’t hurt either.
“I need her out of the house for a few hours. She never fuckin’ leaves.”
Sal looked over at Duncan. “Have Freyja invite her out somewhere.”
“If Freyja finds out I manipulated her to get Caity out of the house so he can spy on her, do you know what the fuck she’ll do to me?”
“Cast a spell?” Mac asked with a smirk.
Duncan flipped him off and said, “That would be the least of my worries.”
“Then don’t let her find out,” Sal said. “Just get it done and done fast. I want to know what my sister is caught up in.”
Another week passed before Freyja finally convinced Caity to leave the house. As soon as she left, I got in and went through the rooms looking for the best places to hide the cameras.
Caity was cunning like Sal, but she didn’t trust easily. She got that from her father. I wasn’t certain Eamon ever trusted anyone. If Caity found out about the cameras I’d installed, it would ruin any hope I had of getting her to open up to me.
I walked down the hall and paused by Eamon’s office. As far as I knew, it hadn’t been opened since his death. We’d tried to get Sal to go through it, but Tyran was always in his ear about the dead staying dead.
Now I couldn’t help but wonder what Tyran didn’t want us to know. I looked at my watch; I had a little more time, so I picked the lock and swung the door open.
What I saw was a surprise.
I had been in this office a few times when Eamon was alive, and it was never in order.
The desk was always littered with empty whiskey bottles.
A cigar always sat on the corner of the desk, lit, threatening to take the whole place down if the smallest breeze rolled it from the ashtray onto the paper-covered surface.
But today, every surface was clean. There were no papers strewn across the desk. No dirty ashtrays scattered around. In fact, there wasn’t a single speck of dust. I ran a finger along the edge of the desk, expecting twenty-years of dust, but it was clean when I lifted it to my face.
Walking over to the file cabinet, I pulled open one of the drawers. There were no papers sticking out of the folders, and a cursory look through the files showed they were all in order.
Closing the drawer, I looked around the room.
Caity had been in here.
She must have found a key when she was cleaning out the house. How long had she been looking around in here? Suddenly, I remembered her dinner with Brian Buchannon a few weeks back.
I’d gotten a frantic call from Maddie and left. When I questioned Caity the following day, she had begun acting differently. Almost guilty. I’d paid a hefty sum to get a look at the restaurant cameras, but she’d positioned herself to where I could barely see them.
But I’d noticed when Brian left, he’d had a folder with him. I couldn’t remember if he’d had it when he went in, but now I was guessing he didn’t. Caity had found something and gone to him.
What else had she found?
And who was she giving that information to?
I quickly added four more cameras, one in every corner, then locked the door and pulled it shut. I pulled out my phone and quickly clicked through each camera. The screen was small, but I could see enough in a pinch.
My computers at the office and at home would be better for watching and listening.
I left Eamon’s office and glanced down the hall. I bit my lip and hesitated. Looking down at my hands, I had one camera left. After checking down the hall again, I made the sign of the cross over my chest, asking God to forgive me for what I was about to do.
I slipped into the master bedroom, knowing this was where Caity slept. I’d seen the lights go on and off at night when I sat outside the house.
My eyes swept the room, floor to ceiling, looking for the best position for the camera. I wanted to watch her sleep. That was what I told myself. The truth was, I wanted to make sure no one else was in that bed with her.
Caity was mine.
I slipped the camera into a plant on the bookshelf and adjusted the settings so all I could see was her bed.
The temptation to change the parameters, so I could see her entire bedroom, was overwhelming.
I hurried from the room before I gave in.
Double-checking Eamon’s office to be sure it was locked, I ensured the front door was also locked as I exited the brownstone.
Walking back to the office, I kept my head down on my phone, once more clicking through every screen until I reached the camera pointed at her perfectly made bed.
I could already feel my dick thickening in anticipation of movie night and watching her twist and turn in those covers.