Chapter 14
Ronan was serving dinner when Ireland pulled her phone out of her sling and read the screen.
“My brother’s coming over,” she warned him, moving her hand out of the way as he set her plate and a bowl of tossed salad in front of her.
“Which one?”
“The scary one.” She gave him a worried look.
“Bon,” he said easily. “I have some things to discuss with him.”
Ireland’s feet bounced restlessly on the footrest of her stool. He realized she’d only ever seen him and her eldest brother in a room together at the hospital when they hadn’t exchanged words.
Bending, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s fine, cher. I have no issue with your brother, and eventually, he’ll see that there’s no place safer for you than with me.”
She looked up at him with luminous eyes and frowned. “You’ve said that before.”
“And you know it’s true.”
The expected knock came, and he straightened. “I’ll get it. Eat.”
Ronan turned and strolled to the door, checking the peephole before pulling it open. Cross, wearing a white V-neck T-shirt and black jeans, went noticeably stiff at the sight of him.
“For fuck’s sake,” the man muttered. “You. Again.”
He shrugged. “Come in.”
One of Cross’s dark brows winged upward. “Where’s my sister?”
“Eating dinner. You’re welcome to join us if you haven’t eaten yet.” Stepping aside, Ronan waved him in. “Your sister-in-law made a casserole that Ireland says you enjoy.”
Cross strode past him. Closing the door, he followed.
“Hey, bro.” Ireland’s voice called out with a forced note of cheer. “Thanks for stopping by.”
Ronan left the foyer in time to see Cross bend to kiss Ireland on her forehead. The startled look on her face told him volumes. Then Cross pulled over Ronan’s stool and sat beside her.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her, his gaze lowering to catalog her visible injuries. Ronan saw a muscle ticcing in the man’s jaw and knew he must be feeling the rage that Ronan did.
“No longer tired, still achy, and a little stoned,” she answered brightly, and it didn’t escape his notice that she recited it by rote.
“I’m sorry it took so long for me to come over.
” Cross hooked his feet on the footrail of the stool and rested his hands on his knees.
His wedding ring was wrapped in rubies, making it stand out starkly against his dark jeans.
“Eva booked us an emergency therapy session, but I went alone so she could be here with you earlier. It’s good that I went, and I think it’s important that you start talking to someone, too. ”
Ireland set down her fork. “Well… Does your guy have a recommendation?”
“Our insurance company has therapists who deal specifically with kidnapping survivors. They recommend that you go through what they call a ‘debrief’ with a trauma specialist as soon as possible and that you start more intensive therapy as soon as you feel stable, but within the month at the latest.”
Ronan walked over and stood behind her, setting his hands lightly on her shoulders.
She looked up at him with a blank expression. “But I’m already stable,” she said quietly, turning her attention back to Cross.
Cross glanced up at Ronan, and he gave a subtle shake of his head. Cross exhaled heavily.
“I’ll go with you if you like, cher,” Ronan murmured.
“Natalie or Eva would go with you,” Cross countered.
Ireland hummed noncommittally. “I’ll give it some thought. But listen, Gideon. What I wanted to talk to you about is the detectives’ focus on Ronan. They’re wasting time looking at him, and I’m worried that’s giving the woman…uh, person who was calling a chance to get away.”
Drumming his fingers on the counter, Cross gave her a studious look.
“I’m not going to tell the investigators not to look at someone, Ireland.
They need to look at everyone, everywhere, until they find those responsible for this.
If Boudreaux is worried about what a deep dive will reveal, you should be worried about why. ”
“They can look all they want,” Ronan shot back. “But not at the expense of looking elsewhere at the same time. Let’s allow Ireland to eat. I have some things I want to discuss with you.”
Cross’s gaze narrowed, but he stood and gestured toward the living room. “Lead the way.”
“I don’t want to eat alone like some child at the kids’ table,” Ireland protested.
Ronan gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “It won’t take long.”
As he walked the short distance to the living room, he felt a warning tingle course down his spine, the sense of something dangerous and hungry stalking his heels.
It was why, he supposed, that Cross was so inherently intimidating.
It wasn’t just his money that gave Ireland’s brother power; it was his ruthlessness and predatory intellect.
Sitting in one of the armchairs, he watched as Cross glanced at his duffel and satchel on the other armchair before taking a seat on the sofa.
The look Cross gave him was icy, and when he spoke, his voice was pitched low and threateningly even.
“It should go without saying that if you hurt my sister in any way, I will end you. I will personally see to it that you’re ruined.
What you’ve done with Vidal Records is child’s play compared to what I’ll do to you. ”
“Gideon…” Ireland said from the kitchen, sighing heavily. “I’m a big girl, you know. I can fuck him up myself if he needs it.”
Ronan didn’t even try to hide his smile. “And so she can. Regardless, I’ll heed your warning. Can we move on to more pressing things?”
“Such as?”
“Graham Teller, his girlfriend, and protection for Ireland.”
Cross leaned forward, setting his forearms on his knees. “I’m listening.”
Rehashing the incident at the bar, Ronan watched as Cross’s face took on a thunderous expression. “I’ve told the detectives,” he finished, “but I’m not sure they’re taking it as seriously as I think they should.”
“My team will look into her and deeper into Teller,” Cross said brusquely. “He’s an idiot. She doesn’t sound much smarter. That said, this may be a case of who she knows rather than what she knows.”
“That’s my thought as well,” he agreed. “And I believe Ireland needs full-time security.”
“O-kayyy,” Ireland said loudly, sliding off her stool with care. “If you’re going to talk about me, I’m participating.”
Ronan stood.
“I’m already pulling some candidates together,” Cross said, rising to his feet as well.
“So am I,” he rejoined.
His cher rolled her eyes as she joined them. “Sit down, you two.”
Cross glared at him. “No one is entrusting her security to you. You’re a suspect, if you’ve forgotten.”
“More like a person of interest,” Ronan shot back.
“I trust him,” Ireland told her brother, taking the hand Ronan extended and then the armchair that he ceded to her. “And you know, Gideon, my judgment isn’t bad. I just give people the benefit of the doubt.”
Half-sitting on the arm of her chair, he was so proud of her in that moment that he wished he could kiss her senseless.
“The wrong people,” Cross rejoined, sitting back down, but his tone was soft.
“It takes a while to see someone’s true character,” she argued.
“Absolutely. And you’ve known this man a week, in which time he’s assumed control of something that’s yours.”
“And he’s doing a great job so far in stabilizing the company. But I’m not going to argue about my relationship with Ronan anymore.” She set her hand on Ronan’s knee. “We’re together, we’re seeing where things go, and that’s no one’s business but ours.”
Cross gave her an examining look. “All right. But you need to leave the management of your personal security to me.”
“I appreciate the offer, and I know how much it’ll cost you—”
“Far less than what we’ve all suffered the past few days,” he interjected. “And expenses such as these are why I work as hard as I do, Ireland. It’s no burden to me.”
She gave him a patient look. “I understand that. But I don’t need people around me who are going to tell you everything I do and who I do it with. I have a right to privacy.”
For a moment, her brother just stared at her. Then he sank back into the sofa cushions. “Is that why you’ve resisted protection before? Why didn’t you discuss your concerns with me?”
“Well…I also didn’t think I really needed security. I mean, big blockbuster movie stars walk the New York streets without protection all the time. I’m just not that big of a deal.”
“You are to me. So I’m very relieved that you’ve reconsidered having a personal detail.”
“Uh…” Ireland glanced up at Ronan.
“You know how I feel,” he murmured.
She looked at Cross and nodded. Ronan breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“I’ll have some options for you in the morning,” Cross said.
“You’ll start by reviewing their dossiers.
It’s best to have at least six that interest you.
From there, you’ll interview them personally.
Ideally, the lead will be female, and your daily team will have at least one female at all times, so they can accompany you into areas where men aren’t allowed, such as bathrooms and dressing rooms.”
“Whew. Okay.”
Cross hesitated. Then released his breath in a rush. “Ireland… If you have any questions or concerns about the way I handled things… I…”
Ronan watched the man rub his palms on his jeans. The awkward fidgeting and loss for words struck him as extremely atypical for Cross, which put him on alert.
Ireland must have felt the same, because she leaned forward and set her fingertips on the back of her brother’s hand. “Dad mentioned that you’re taking some heat. Everyone’s got an opinion these days, and the belief that everyone else has got to hear it.”
“Tell me about it,” Cross muttered.
She waved a careless hand. “For what it’s worth, I don’t care what strangers think about us. I’m not watching the news, scrolling through social media, or anything else. Screw ‘em. You’re Gideon-fucking-Cross.”
Cross’s facial expression blanked. Realization struck Ronan at nearly the same time.