Chapter 32
Goldie
Be cool, be cool, be cool. You’re just going on a stakeout with your mobster boyfriend, to see if his cousin is betraying the whole family. No big deal.
“Seatbelt,” Brody growled as he slid into the driver’s seat, distracting her from her internal lecture.
Rolling her eyes, she tugged the belt across her shoulder. “It wouldn’t kill you to say please, you know.”
He glanced over just long enough for her to catch the raised brow before he punched the button to start the car. “Maybe I’ll start saying please when you start following directions and not putting yourself in dangerous situations.”
“I wasn’t in any danger!” Despite her protests, her ass clenched as if anticipating the punishment headed her way if Brody decided she had, indeed, put herself in yet another precarious situation.
Guiding the car down the driveway, he snorted, the sound so dismissive she couldn’t help but bristle at it.
“Yeah, sneaking around and spying on a man who was possibly discussing his plans to betray his very powerful mafia family wasn’t the least bit dangerous.
Did you stop for even one second to think what Rowan might have done if he’d caught you? ”
“Rowan’s a douchebag, but he didn’t strike me as particularly dangerous.”
“He’s an O’Rourke, Marigold. Murphy may have tried his best to shield Rowan from the realities of our world, but at the end of the day, he knows how to handle a threat. And he would have absolutely viewed you as a threat if he’d caught you.”
Okay, well, when he put it like that maybe she had acted a tiny bit rashly. “So… how much trouble am I in?”
“More than you want to be.” Digging into his pocket, he pulled his phone free and tossed it to her. “Code is one-two-two-four-eight-three.”
“Is that your birthday or something?” She asked as she tapped in the code to unlock his phone.
“No. My parents’ anniversary.”
Fuck. Her heart gave a sharp twist in her chest and she reached for him, laying her hand over his on the gear shift. “I’m sorry.”
“I need you to send a text to Killian,” he said, completely ignoring her platitudes. Which she could admit stung a bit, but they didn’t have time for her to get mopey about it just then.
Pulling her hand away, she found his text thread with Killian and pulled it up. “What do you want me to say?”
“Tell him Rowan is meeting someone at the docks and that you’re with me and we’re going after him.” Silence fell between them, thick and heavy with meaning. “And tell him I think we found our mole.”
She nearly fumbled his phone at that. “You have a mole? Is that what the secret meeting was about?”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit.” Shaking her head, she went to work sending his message off to Killian. “I don’t blame you guys for keeping me out of the loop on that one.”
“You don’t?”
The genuine surprise in his voice had her looking up. “Of course not. If you guys have a mole, you have to play your cards super close to the vest. And I’m something of an unknown. Honestly you’d be really fucking stupid to trust me.”
“I guess we’re really fucking stupid, then.”
For a moment, she could only stare at him. “What does that mean?”
“It means I was on my way to bring you into the meeting when Murphy and Rowan showed up. I told Killian you could give us some valuable insight on our situation, and he agreed. So just a heads-up we’ll be picking that writer’s brain of yours, see if you can spot any clues we’re overlooking.”
Love welled inside her, so big and bright and warm it physically hurt. “You’d really trust me with that?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t say ‘of course’ like that was a given, Brody O’Rourke. I can barely get you to clean out a damn drawer for me and here you are—oh, wait, Killian just texted.” Jabbing a finger in his direction with one hand, she used the other to swipe open the message. “We aren’t done talking about this.”
“Didn’t figure we were. What did Killian say?”
“He’s asking if we need backup.”
Brody paused, his fingers tapping at the steering wheel as he considered a moment before shaking his head. “No. Tell him it’s more important to keep Murphy contained. Last thing we need is him running in half-cocked and tipping Rowan off.”
“Got it.” She sent off the message and put the phone facedown on her lap as she twisted in her seat to face him. “You have an in-dash computer in your car.”
“I do.”
“You could have easily done all of that through voice commands.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lip. “Isn’t that what I did?”
Rolling her eyes, she drilled a finger into his shoulder. “You know what I mean. You didn’t have to give me the code to your phone. But you did.”
“Aye. I did.”
His Irish was slipping out more, and she wondered what that meant. From her observations, his accent only thickened like that when he was feeling some kind of strong emotion.
So what was he feeling just then?
Unfortunately, she didn’t get a chance to ask him, seeing as how they were already turning onto the side road that led to the docks.
The energy inside the vehicle changed in a fingersnap, with so much tension vibrating between them she wondered how she couldn’t physically see it wiggling through the air.
Brody slowed the car to a crawl as they passed warehouse after warehouse. They were nearly to the end before they spotted the flashy red convertible his cousin had taken off in.
“Motherfucker,” Brody muttered, his tone borderline murderous. “He’s in bed with the goddamn Russians.”
“How do you know that?” She wasn’t really sure why she was whispering since they were in a car with all the doors and windows closed and there wasn’t a single person in sight, but it just seemed like the thing to do under the circumstances.
“They own this warehouse and the ones on either side of it as well. Along with that row of houses,” he added, pointing to several old buildings running along the other side of the street.
“They’ve been buying up property around the docks for a few months now.
Killian sent Lochlan to see what he could find out, but we don’t have any real intel yet. ”
“Power in numbers? Like the more real estate they have, the more places they can put their men for like, surveillance and stuff.”
“That’s one theory. It makes the most sense but… I don’t know. Something just feels off about the whole thing. Especially now that we know Rowan is involved.”
As if on cue, the man himself stepped out of his car to greet what might have been the largest human Goldie had ever seen.
The two stopped a foot or so away from each other, as if they were both wary of what the other might do.
Which was kind of hilarious, since the Russian had at least six inches and roughly two hundred pounds on Rowan.
“Pictures, menace. We need photo proof or Murphy will never believe us.”
“Oh, right.” With fingers that trembled more than she wanted them to in that moment, she lifted his phone and snapped a series of photos, making sure to zoom in as much as she was able to capture Rowan and the Russian’s faces.
“Got it,” she said, letting out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.
Huh. Apparently that was actually a real thing.
“Good girl.” Shifting the car back into drive, Brody eased it back onto the road and away from the warehouse.
“So… what now?”
A muscle in Brody’s cheek jumped, and when he spoke, his voice was rough with grief. “Now we get to go break my cousin’s heart.”
Brody
As requested, Killian managed to keep Murphy corralled until they returned, though it was clear from the way their eldest cousin was pacing when Brody and Goldie stepped back into the office that he wasn’t the least bit happy about it.
“Where the hell have you been?” Murphy pounced the second the door opened. “And where’s Rowan?”
“We’ll get to Rowan,” Brody assured him, nudging him toward the couch. “First, have a seat. And a drink.”
“I’ve had plenty, waiting on you.” The Irish brogue was thicker than usual in Murphy’s voice, telling Brody he was indeed either very drunk or very pissed off.
Or, as was more likely, both.
“Then have a seat.” Brody put more steel in his voice, and accompanied it with a harder push so that Murphy stumbled backward, collapsing on the couch beside Aria who reached out to give his knee a sympathetic squeeze.
Fucking hell, he hated this. Hated being at odds with his family in general, but this… god, this was going to kill Murphy.
And he was the one who had to do it.
Steeling himself against the rage and hurt about to be hurled his way, Brody stood in the middle of the room, all eyes on him. But before he could speak, someone moved, and he glanced over to find Goldie standing beside him, looking every bit the badass he knew she could be when it counted.
As much as he despised the circumstances that had put her there, he was grateful to have her by his side.
“Earlier tonight, Rowan O’Rourke was overheard making plans with an unknown person to ‘take down Killian’. Goldie and I followed him to the docks, where he met with one Alexei Markov.”
As Murphy’s shouts and curses peppered the air, Brody pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the photos before handing the device to his cousin. Snatching it from Brody’s hand, Murphy settled back against the couch with a glare.
But when he looked down, Brody watched the blood drain from his face. Watched his expression shift from righteous indignation to confusion to utter betrayal.
And it broke his fucking heart.
“I’m sorry, Murph,” he said quietly, a mourner paying respects to his cousin’s belief in a son who had turned out to be everything he despised. “I’m so fucking sorry. I wish it wasn’t true.”
“He could be trying to help.” Murphy looked up, his expression almost pleading. “Maybe he’s playing the double agent or something. Just because you saw him with the Russians doesn’t mean he’s betrayed us.”
“That’s very true,” Killian said, his voice full of understanding. “Which is why nobody is going to confront him.”
Head whipping around, Aria gaped at her husband. “We’re not? Why the fuck not?”
“Because we don’t make baseless accusations in this family. Not without stone-cold fucking proof. So we will wait, and we will watch, and until we know for sure nobody says a goddamn thing to or in front of Rowan. Understood?”
“So we just give him time to tell the Russians everything?” Aria’s expression blazed with the kind of fury only a true O’Rourke could summon, and Brody couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride at how she went toe to toe with her husband without backing down. “Fuck that, Killian.”
The green of Killian’s eyes flashed. “Watch how you speak to me, little girl. I’ve given you a plenty long leash, but I have no problem shortening it if you continue this disrespect.”
“First of all, I’m not a dog. Keep referring to me like one and you’ll find out exactly how nasty my bite is.
Second of all,” Aria continued, bulldozing over whatever protests Killian was prepared to make, “I’m not going to stay quiet while you put our family at risk.
If you wanted a meek and biddable wife, you shouldn’t have married me. ”
“Don’t I know it,” Killian muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“I am not suggesting we simply roll over and give Rowan free reign to tell the Russians everything they want to know. We’ll keep a guard on him, twenty-four-seven.
He won’t be able to so much as eat or take a shit without it being reported back to me.
If intervention becomes necessary, we’ll handle it.
This is the best way I know how to protect our family, without escalating an already volatile situation. ”
“I’m sorry.” Rising from the couch, Aria made her way around the desk, perching on Killian’s lap. A lump rose in Brody’s throat as he watched Killian’s eyes close briefly, misery stamped all over his face as he cradled his pregnant wife. “I know you’re doing what you think is best. For all of us.”
“I appreciate that. But you and I will still be having a very long conversation about the meaning of the word ‘respect’ once our guests leave.”
“Yeah, I kinda figured,” Aria replied dryly. “Don’t suppose you’d let me blame it on the hormones?”
“Nice try, princess. But no.”
The conversation was a reminder that Brody had his own naughty girl to deal with when he got home, and his cock jerked in his pants at the thought of Goldie, bent over a desk with his marks all over her ass.
Glancing down, he caught the hint of pink in her cheeks and he had to resist the urge to grin.
But then he glanced over at Murphy, who was staring down at the phone in his hand as if somehow looking at the photo longer would change the reality of it.
Goldie turned her head, her gaze following Brody’s, and before he realized what she was doing, she was kneeling in front of Murphy, her hand on his arm.
“I’m more sorry than I can say that this is happening, Murphy. I haven’t known you very long, but even in this short time I’ve seen how much you love your son, how hard you’ve worked to protect him while not making him feel ostracized. None of this is your fault.”
Murphy barked out a bitter laugh. “I wish I believed that.”
“She’s right, Murph.” Reagan’s voice was as gentle as Brody had ever heard it. “Have you spoiled Rowan a bit? Sure. But nobody blames you for trying to give your child a good life. Just like nobody will blame you if he turns out to be a traitor.”
“Fuck.” Letting his head fall back against the couch, Murphy closed his eyes. “I just don’t know how we got here.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Goldie said, still in that calm, soothing tone. “What matters now is how you handle it. How you all handle it. You’re not alone, Murphy, and that’s what matters.”
The sound of the front door slamming had them all jumping, every head in the room whipping around to stare at the door of Killian’s office.
“Dad? Killian? Where is everybody?”
Nudging Aria from his lap, Killian rose to his feet. “Guess that’s our cue. Let’s go have a nice, no-stress family dinner.”
One by one, they filed out into the hall where Rowan waited. And if Brody hadn’t known exactly how furious Killian was, he sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to tell from the way he greeted their younger cousin, accepting his smarmy apology with all the grace of a seasoned diplomat.
“If Killian wasn’t the head of the Irish mafia, he could have made a hell of a living as an actor. Especially with those cheekbones.”
Sliding an arm around Goldie’s waist, Brody yanked her to him, dipping his head to nip at the side of her neck. “Next time I catch you ogling some other man’s cheekbones, I’m going to put you over my knee. And I won’t care who’s around to watch.”
Her breath hitched, and when he raised his head, he found her pupils blown and her cheeks bright pink. “Don’t make threats you won’t follow through on, O’Rourke.”
“My sweet little menace. You should know by now I don't make threats. I make promises.” Leaning in, he lowered his voice for only her to hear. “And Daddy always keeps his promises.”