Mob Bride (The O’Rourke Brotherhood #5)

Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Carrie

Hearing someone’ll follow us after my colleagues just ransacked my boyfriend’s—my lover’s—my fuck buddy’s—no, he was adamant we’re not that—but I still don’t know what to consider him—house is hardly reassuring.

“We’ll be fine, Carrie. We’ll pull straight into Sean’s garage. All of us have multiple garage door openers just for this reason. That and none of us enjoy being wet and cold in winter. It’s how Cormac pulled straight into mine. He has a garage door opener for here.”

His family is ever practical, if nothing else.

“When we go in the garage, we can’t say a single thing while we’re out there. We’re working on the assumption they didn’t plant any cameras in the garage. We can’t be sure, so I’m praying they won’t see us hiding you. It’s possible they don’t have cameras, but they could have microphones.”

“Shane, I know. I’ve planted plenty of them.”

His grim expression tells me he didn’t care for the reminder.

“I keep an under-vehicle search mirror in a cut out behind some storage shelves.”

That shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.

“I have places to hide shite all over my property, Carrie. Cormac’s doing a sweep now to ensure they placed nothing underneath his car or mine. There are a few small nooks and crannies where they could place a bug or a tracker, but I don’t think most agents are well versed enough in cars to know exactly where, and none of them looked like they had hands dirty from being underneath one of our cars.”

“Maybe an auto body class should be required at the academy.”

“We are always wary, but neither of us is overly concerned right now. Once you’re hidden, we’ll go back to the door. I’ll open it from inside, and we’ll wait until the garage door is halfway open to ensure the agents see us before I step down into the garage. Cormac’ll come out of the house behind me. It’ll look like we’re leaving together, but only the two of us. If we open the door while we’re already near the car, it’ll make the agents even more suspicious that we’ve already hidden something in the car or in the garage. We want to make it look as though we have no cares in the world as we leave. Life continues despite the minor disturbance.”

I nod since all of that makes sense. I don’t know if he just thought of this or if it’s standard operating procedure for this family. I suspect the latter. Someone trained them, and now it comes naturally.

“Cor’ll get in the driver’s seat, and I’ll get in on the passenger side. You know it’s not a long drive to Sean’s house. In case there are any trucks or vans parked in the neighborhood outside my jammers’ radius, we’ll stay quiet until we know whether they’re following us. We’ll talk about going to the movies this weekend and our security shifts at the bars Finn owns. I’m not scheduled for anything, but Cormac is a bouncer at McGinty’s this weekend. It’s the bar our nana owned before she passed away. Finn inherited it. If the car’s bugged and we stay quiet the entire time, it’ll seem suspicious. We’ll chat, so it’ll sound like we believe everything’s back to normal.”

I know how sensitive those things can be. I pray they don’t hear me breathing.

“I’ll text Sean now to let him know we’re headed out. If I have to communicate with anyone once we’re beyond my house’s jammers and not close enough to his, I’ll text rather than call.”

“What should I expect when we get to Sean’s?”

His expression softens as he lifts me onto his lap on the sofa where we sat down for this conversation.

“I suspect your parents are going to engulf you and not let go.”

That makes my heart hurt. “I can’t blame them if they do.”

“ Cailín , my parents were exactly the same way the first few times I went on missions alone. My mom wasn’t any better before that when my brothers and I went on missions with our dad. She’s not quite as bad now as she was in the beginning, but neither of my parents take for granted the blessing it is when their sons come home alive. We don’t always come back without some nicks and cuts, sometimes even some stab wounds and bullet holes, but we all live to tell the tale.”

I gulp. I’m nauseous at the thought Shane might come home like that, and I’d have to see it.

“Little one, that hasn’t happened in a long time. And we have the best doctor in the city to stitch us up.”

He grins, but it does little to console me. I snuggle closer. We sit together in silence until Cormac returns from the garage and gives us the all-clear. Just like Shane described, they help me into the back of Cormac’s Range Rover. It’s seriously cramped even with me curled into as tight a ball as I can make my body. Cormac and Shane suspect we’re being followed but aren’t sure, so I stay in the back. I don’t know what’s in the tubs, but they sound heavy. If we get pulled over, they might deter anyone from searching too far into the back. It’s stuffy, so I wipe sweat from my forehead when Shane finally lets me out in Sean’s garage.

The moment I’m through the door and into Sean’s house, my mom’s barreling toward me, and my dad’s on her heels. My parents swoop me up for a hug that threatens to smother me.

“Carys, thank God. Are you okay?”

Tears choke my mom’s voice. She’s still hugging me, but she’s eased her hold a little. She’s wrapped around me from the front, and my dad envelops both of us from the back. He’s a tall man, so his arms are long enough to reach around us. They make a Carys sandwich. I loved when they called it that when I was a kid. I just realized I think of myself as Carrie now after hearing Shane call me that so many times.

“I’m all right. Nothing happened to me.”

I know my dad’s tone. Fuck my life.

“I’d hardly say nothing. You owe us an explanation.”

My shoulders droop even though my arms stay wrapped around my mom. When she pulls away enough for me to turn around, I hug my dad.

“I will, but it’s going to take a while to explain everything.”

“We figured as much.”

From the way Shane, Sean, and Cormac wince, they recognize Mom’s tone. I bet it’s the same as when she deals with any of their injuries. It’s not entirely sympathetic, but it is filled with concern.

We head to the living room. My parents sit on a sofa while Cormac heads to a rocker recliner. I hang back, and Shane comes to my side. We choose the loveseat. I know my parents wanted me to sit between them. Shane even nudges me toward them. But right now, I need his silent strength to get me through what I’m about to divulge. He knows what I need because he presses his right thigh against my leg, reassuring he’s here and on my side.

“You guys remember how I went to that party my freshman year of high school, and that massive fight that broke out?”

“Yeah, you went with Mary Elizabeth Coniglio.”

When I notice Shane and Sean glance at one another, I suspect they know that last name. Shane slides his hand into mine, encouraging me to continue.

Dad’s brow furrows as he remembers back fifteen years. “Didn’t the police get called to that party?”

“Yeah, Mary Elizabeth and I weren’t even there ten minutes before the police came. It was just long enough for my boyfriend to take a few puffs of some pot. Mary Elizabeth and I left with our boyfriends the moment people started yelling. I found out later, she wasn’t supposed to be there. Once we left, we planned to find another party because that one turned into a melee from what I heard. I don’t know many of the details from that evening because I didn’t go to school with Mary Elizabeth. She went to school with a bunch of guys who were arguing over some girl or something.”

“That’s one way to put it. Carrie, all of us were at that party that night. That fight was over Maria Mancinelli. Three guys from the Colombian Cartel we call Tres J’s insulted her when she stuck up for a friend of hers who had a crush on one of those psychopaths. A couple Kutsenkos overheard them and stuck up for Maria, which only made the Mancinellis get involved too once they knew Maria was at the center of it. My family gave the Mancinellis a hard time about needing the Kutsenkos to protect their women.”

Sean grimaces before he picks up the story from Shane.

“We wound up getting drawn into it because neither the Mancinellis nor the Kutsenkos appreciated our taunting. It turned into a massive melee that got plenty of us injured and nearly killed. The leaders of the Four Families were so livid most of us in all four families wished we hadn’t left that party alive.”

“Was that when you were both fourteen?”

Mom looks back and forth between Shane and Sean, then at Cormac. I’d noticed he hadn’t joined us at first, but I didn’t realize he’d gone to the kitchen. He just came out with a tray of cookies and petit fours along with the tea pot.

Shane explains when he notices my confusion. “He and Seamus have always had the best manners. They always ensure our guests have something to nibble on if they want.”

He settles into the other armchair before Shane’s hand squeezes mine, and he continues speaking.

“Yes, that’s the one. It was the first time I got shot. Bogdan Kutsenko didn’t appreciate being called a little bitch even if he is one.” Shane glowers at his brother. “He shot me, even though I’m not the one who called him that. I guess it was too dark to see Sean’s freckle to tell us apart since we were standing next to each other while we taunted them.”

“I didn’t exactly come out unscathed. Pablo left me with a scar across my left shoulder blade from where he knifed me.”

Cormac frowns and shrugs. “Besides the massive fight that happened there, it was a pretty good party before that.”

I tense because that wasn’t how I remember that night at all.

“Someone laced those drugs my boyfriend took. He died in the car on the way to the next party. When I realized something was wrong, we went to the hospital. It all happened so fast there was nothing we could do to save him.

Bile burns the back of my throat as I tell that story. The painful memory has layers. I notice Shane glance at Cormac and then at Sean. All have muted expressions, but I can read them now that I’m learning to read Shane’s. I sense remorse, like they want to admit something. I hear Shane’s inhale before he speaks.

“Carrie, that happened because of my family.”

It feels like slow motion as I turn toward him. Shocked is the only word that explains my reaction. I wait for sadness or anger, but there is none. It’s just speechlessness. I know he can tell if he doesn’t confess this now, and I found out later, I’d struggle to forgive him because this affected me personally. I know it’s the kind of secret he’d normally keep to himself.

“Uncle Donovan sent Dillan and Finn to sell what we all believed was just regular pot. None of us—” He points to his brother and cousin, and I assume he also means Seamus, Dillan, and Finn. “—knew it was laced with fentanyl. Uncle Don got the product from his best friend, Colin, who mixed it but f—messed up the proportions. Uncle Don wanted it potent enough to get kids to come back to us for more.”

He lets go of my hand and runs his hands over his face as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. He twists to look back at me.

“It terrified us when we found out. But it didn’t stop Uncle Don from forcing us to keep dealing. There was another party about nine years ago. Finn took a date—it was the last one he went on until he met his wife—and she died from OD’ing on fentanyl my family sold the hosts before the party started. It was as clean as it could be, but she took too much while Finn went to get her another drink. He didn’t know until Maria Mancinelli tried to revive her that she’d bought the pills he and Dillan sold the hosts. Maria was in med school at the time and did everything she could to help her, but it was too late. I didn’t know anything happened to someone after the melee only that someone died at another party.”

I continue to stare at Shane. I can tell it’s unnerving him. It’s got to be at least two minutes before I shift my gaze to Sean, then to Cormac, then my parents, and finally back to Shane. I think Shane’s waiting for me to withdraw completely or explode. Instead, I tug on his arm to lean back and slip my hand into his before I continue my story.

“That party made me decide to become a DEA agent. I was so upset by what I witnessed and knowing it was entirely preventable. I committed to doing some good because we all knew there were drugs at that party, and it wasn’t the first time Xavier’d taken stuff. We’d actually already dated.” I turn to my parents. “I never told you we broke up over his drug use. I knew he’d used drugs recreationally, only at parties and things like that, but I hadn’t approved. He told me he was clean, and I believed him because none of the signs from before were there. He’d gotten better at hiding it. Even if we weren’t dating, he would’ve gone to that party, anyway. There’s a good chance he’d have done even more drugs than just taking those pills if I hadn’t been there.”

I nudge Shane with my shoulder because he appears beside himself.

“I don’t blame any of you for the choices he made, and I’m already fully aware of your family’s enterprises. It hasn’t stopped me from being with you.”

I turn back to my parents because I’m about to tell them things that’ll shock them.

“Once I finished college, a few federal agencies recruited me. You knew all of that. What you don’t know is how well I did at the academy. I have a knack for languages, and the agency noticed. I’m also an excellent shot and have always been physically fit since I’ve run marathons before.”

Shane’s gaze meets mine. “That explains how easily you kept up with me when we ran and why you went for those runs every morning.”

I shoot him a glare, warning him not to say more. The last thing I need is my parents discovering I ran those trails to keep my endurance up for situations like the lumberyard.

“Since I took French and Spanish in school, I learned Italian on my own fairly easily. With blue eyes and fair skin that tans, I can pass for northern Italian. The agency sent me undercover in Chicago.”

My mom’s incredulous. “I remember when you said you were going to Italy for a few weeks with friends about a year-and-a-half after you got the job.”

“I didn’t exactly go to Italy, the country, but Little Italy, Chicago. I was undercover for those two weeks and helped do a big bust.”

“Was that with the Grassos?”

“Yeah. How’d you—” I don’t bother finishing. I just nod instead. All the guys must have done the math and worked backwards until they realized who I meant.

“Mostly, it was one small thing after another around here. A lot of times, I wore a hat and sunglasses or a hoodie or something else to keep my appearance from being obvious. I did a major undercover job three years ago when I went to Boston.”

I sense Shane’s anger. I nearly died at the bust because a warehouse exploded. He knows about that, but he won’t say anything for my parents’ sake.

“Mom, Dad, when I told you I went to LA for some training two years ago, it was to infiltrate the Italians out there.”

I’m getting to the part of the story Shane already knows, and I sense some of his anxiousness recedes because he knows what’s coming.

“Once that sting was over, the bratva down here popped onto our radar even more than any of you guys usually do. We knew we needed somebody in with the leading family, but it was impossible. Since all the men in the Kutsenko and Andreyev family are already married and would never let their eyes wander, we realized infiltrating them directly was impossible. Trying to become friends with the wives would’ve been futile. They’re all too intelligent and wary not to figure it out.”

Shane’s steely tone is the one I heard so many times when we first got to know each other, and he objected to just about everything about me. I guess he isn’t as at ease as I thought.

“Because Bartlomiej and Jacek have been doing more deals with the bratva lately to make up for something that happened, you figured they would be an organization you could plausibly enter without too many questions and still get closer to the bratva.”

I wish my parents knew as much as Shane and his family, so I wouldn’t have to explain all my lies. Hell, I wouldn’t have lied at all.

“Yes. I took time and went to the Department of Defense’s Language Institute in Monterey and was in an immersive program there to learn Polish. That was when I told you they sent me back to the L.A. office for nearly eight months to put me on special assignment for some analysis work. After that lie, I lied and said the agency transferred me to Pittsburgh. I’ve been undercover with the Nowakowskis almost the entire time I was supposed to be there.”

I lean into Shane as I watch my parents’ expressions. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and offers me some comfort without looking possessive or overprotective. I want him to be exactly that, but I don’t want my parents to misunderstand and think he’ll keep me from them. I lean my head against his shoulder. I sense Shane looking down at me. I close my eyes for a moment before I open them filled with tears.

“I’ve lied to you both so many times because of this job, and I regret it. Not just because of what’s going on now, but also because that’s not the way you raised me. You didn’t raise me to be such an easy liar.”

Mom smiles, but there’s obvious sadness in her gaze. “Carys, we’ve kept my connections to the O’Rourkes from you your entire life. I never even hinted I knew anything about their family, let alone about the mob or being a doctor to mobsters. If I’d realized just how involved your job was with organized crime, I wouldn’t have stayed on as their physician. I endangered you and your career by allowing you to go undercover when I’m so connected to the O’Rourkes.”

“You didn’t let me go undercover. You didn’t know.”

Mom nods. “I still regret I never told you once we knew your interest in the DEA.”

I ask what I’ve wanted to know since the night I met Shane and discovered my mom’s connection to the mob. “How did you wind up as their doctor?”

She looks at Shane, and I shift my focus to see his face as he nods.

“I met the boys’ grandfather when most of them were still in middle school. Dillan and Finn had just started high school. When Liam O’Rourke collapsed outside the hospital from a gunshot wound, I was just coming in to work and recognized him from a newspaper article. I knew right away whatever got him shot wasn’t going away. Maybe whoever put the bullet in him died, but the reason for it hadn’t. I didn’t want to be the one who called the police because that’s what happens with GSWs. However, someone had to. I didn’t lie because I didn’t know enough to have anything to hide. But I made sure nobody called until after he came out of surgery.”

Gunshot wounds aren’t something most orthopedic surgeons face. I don’t know how she kept it from the police for so long since she doesn’t work in the ER, and removing a bullet isn’t a surgery she’d perform—at least, not at her regular job—since becoming a civilian. I don’t ask because I don’t think I want to know. I listen instead.

“I met Donovan, Colin, and Declan when they came to see him. They wanted to discharge him the same day. I found out from the surgeon when I went to see Liam. I advised against that course of action because he was still too unstable to move. I told him about my experiences as a doctor with the British Royal Navy and how I’d seen too many people die from a GSW even after they removed the bullet. Once he heard that, it intrigued him, and he asked more questions about my work and my experience. I knew why he was asking and what he was getting at.”

Her lips flatten before they turn down just like they did when I was a kid, and I did something she didn’t approve of.

“I had no interest in working for the O’Rourkes. However, if it got out I was the doctor who delayed calling the police over his wounds—that I’d basically shielded him—it wouldn’t be safe for me. Liam felt indebted to me for me protecting him, so he assigned me bodyguards. I got to know the guys. Eventually, it didn’t seem so bad to work for him as a private physician, so I joined the payroll.”

She offers Shane, Sean, and Cormac a fond smile that’s far warmer than earlier.

“It didn’t take long for Liam to realize I have a way with you guys that his other doctor didn’t. As you all went on more missions and the teams grew, there were more wounds to tend. I became the primary private doctor for your family. I continued my regular job but cut down on my hours. I never told you that, Carys, and we never really discussed how we paid for your college. We just told you we saved. What we never told you was we saved the money the O’Rourkes paid me. That’s how we put you through college. It’s also funding our retirement when we scale back for real.”

We all sit in silence as each of us absorbs the things confessed here over the last twenty minutes. It’s a lot to take in for anybody, and I know my parents and I are struggling to come to terms with the massive family secrets we’ve withheld from each other. Even though I know we understand what we did, it’s hurtful that they didn’t trust me to know about Mom’s work with the O’Rourkes.

I’m certain it’s equally hurtful for my parents to know I didn’t trust them enough to tell them what my job actually entails. I know from my parents’ expressions they feel guilty they allowed me to go into a job where I could have become a target for investigation if anyone discovered Mom’s ties to the O’Rourkes. But there’s nothing any of us can do to change the past, so it’s a matter of acceptance right now. This could drive a wedge between us. However, it’s obvious it’ll only bring us closer together.

Sean’s phone rings on the coffee table beside his chair. He takes a glance and answers it.

“Hey, Dill. They’re over here right now.”

He goes silent for a moment before he hangs up.

“The others are coming. They’re about to pull through the gate.”

Shane explains to my parents when they both glance toward the door. “Even though Nikki isn’t in town, we’ve all gotten used to calling ahead now. Nothing’s changed, even if it’s impossible for any of us to disturb them.”

His meaning is clear without him spelling it out. No one wants to walk in on Sean and Nikki having sex. If it sounded like a swarm of DEA agents at Shane’s house, then it’s a horde descending upon this house when his family arrives.

An older couple arrives with a younger man beside him. The two men look enough like Shane and Sean for me to realize the couple are the twins’ parents, and Finn’s the man on his own. I wonder if his aunts and uncles will join us. I’m not sure why Shane’s parents came, but I guess I should get meeting them out of the way. I suspect that’s why they’re here.

My parents greet Shane’s warmly.

He leans in to whisper to me, and I don’t like how he knows something about my parents I don’t. “Nobody would guess, but they frequently go on double dates together. It’s really very cute.”

Then his parents come to say hello to me, and Shane introduces them.

“Mom, Da, this is Carys. Carrie, these are my parents, Breda and Ronan.”

His mom’s tentative but warm when she greets me. She’s giving me some space until she realizes I’m not too nervous around them. When we embrace, I see the relief on Shane’s face since he’s standing to the side and watching us. When they go to say hi to Sean, Shane fills me in on more family history.

“My dad and uncles have been in since they were the same age I was when I joined. Their side of the family has been in for three generations and four on my mom’s side. Three sisters married three brothers, and my mom and aunts have been daughters to a mob boss, a sister to a mob boss, and now one is the mom and two are aunts to a mob boss. If anybody understands the dangers of this life and the threat the feds pose to our family, it’s them.”

“That’s why it surprises me they’re treating me so warmly. Is it because my parents are here?”

I need to know what the dynamics will truly be if Shane and I consider a future together.

“No. My family’s more open-minded than you’d expect. From watching my brothers and cousins get married, it’s obvious they never expected us to marry women from mob families. They know my brothers’ and cousins’ wives never planned to fall in love with mobsters. Nothing’s been easy for my brothers or cousins and their wives, so my parents get it.”

“‘Nothing’s been easy’ is a far sight different from you breaking a cardinal syndicate rule.”

His brow furrows. “Which rule?”

“Never support the government or law enforcement.”

His grin would be sexy as sin if I weren’t growing more nervous the longer I think about how the rest of Shane’s family will react when they meet me.

“You’re with me, and we’re hiding at my brother’s house to keep you away from law enforcement. I’d hardly say we’re supporting them. Just the opposite. If nothing else, it’s a massive feck you to them.”

I like how he won’t swear in front of me unless he’s using fuck to refer to sex. It’s sweet. But I still don’t feel reassured.

“I know I’m asking a lot of you and your trust, but please believe me, Carrie. They don’t object. I’d know if they did.”

I look over to where my parents and his are chatting as though nothing’s going on that could wind up with their son and me in prison.

Despite my initial fears, I relax because I realize there are a ton of people in Shane’s family, and this isn’t even all of them. They’re pretty easygoing and shockingly normal, apparently. According to what Shane whispers to me as we all sit down for dinner together in a massive dining room, it’s baffled each woman who’s married into this family. Apparently, Dillan’s wife even claims she stepped into the Twilight Zone when she married into the O’Rourkes. It boggles the mind to watch and listen to them tease each other and be so openly affectionate with one another.

But it’s Shane’s mom who gets down to brass tacks. Shane chuckles and tells me she’s full of old-fashioned phrases. She scowls playfully before she gets serious again.

“What’re you going to do next? What’s your plan?”

Shane and I look at each other, and there’s not much more we can do than shrug. Breda looks at Shane.

“The best thing you two can do is go out of town for a while. I’d highly recommend somewhere in the Caribbean or the Med. It’s a pleasant time of year for sailing.”

“I agree. We ought to get you away from here, Carrie.”

I shift my gaze to Mom and Dad to see what they think. Maybe they want to go out of town with me rather than Shane taking me. We haven’t even had a first date, and I was going to stay—am going to stay—who the hell knows at this point—with Shane indefinitely. Now we’re talking about traveling together. I’m trying not to overanalyze the situation because there’s no good explanation for what’s going on here besides necessity.

It makes me wonder whether we really have a foundation for a relationship or if it just comes from all the danger. We resolve nothing over the next few hours, but Shane and I discuss places we might like to visit. When everyone’s ready to leave, we consider whether to go back to Shane’s place.

His parents and brother said they saw no one watching Sean’s house, and no one followed them. Sean checks with his security team who patrols his property and the guards at his house’s gate. They’ve seen no one drive by they don’t recognize. There are no unfamiliar cars parked on the street. It seems like it’ll be safe to return to Shane’s place.

We’re headed to the garage when I squeeze Shane’s hand. “I have a bad feeling about this. Something just tells me this isn’t a good idea.”

When our gazes lock, he understands how serious I am.

“Do you want to spend the night here instead? Would you feel better not going out?”

“I don’t want to impose upon your brother.”

“It’s not an imposition, Carrie, and you know that. He’s more than equipped for houseguests.” He gestures toward the stairs. “This isn’t the biggest home in our family, but it can accommodate plenty of people. It has six bedrooms. It’s not like Sean and Nikki intend to be a stereotypical Catholic couple with that many children, but there’s a bedroom for each of us. There are nights we spend at each other’s homes to make it easier when we’re coming or going for missions. We can stay here. We can go to somebody else’s house here in the neighborhood. We can go to a hotel. It’s up to you, cailín . What do you want to do?”

I consider his offer and nod.

“Could you take me to a hotel instead? Somewhere, maybe neutral?”

Shane’s expression reveals nothing as he considers my questions, but I know.

“I can read your thoughts, Daddy. You’re not sure what to make of me asking you to take me to a hotel. Shane, I want you—” I keep my voice low. “—there with me, but the more time we’re together right now, the greater likelihood they’ll take us both in. I don’t want them to get you as well if they find me.

“They’re far more likely to find you if I’m not with you.”

We both know what we’ve said is the truth.

“Carrie, I have the resources to take care of myself if I’m arrested, but I don’t want you away from me in case they get you. I want to see with my own eyes how they treat you.”

“All right. I still believe my going to a hotel would protect you, but I feel like this’ll be the night they strike if we go somewhere. Staying here eases some of my fears.”

“We stay here tonight, and we’ll decide what to do next in the morning.”

Shane turns to Sean, and I know he wasn’t listening to our conversation. I can’t explain it, but he understands Shane when he turns his attention to his twin. Sean nods, and we say goodbye to everybody else while Sean heads up to his room.

It’s gotten way later than any of us realized. I know I’m exhausted, and so is Shane. He shows me to the room he usually uses when he stays here. I discover Sean’s wife is extremely slender, so even though I’m average-sized, none of Nikki’s clothes would fit me. He pulls out a set of t-shirt and basketball shorts he keeps here, but I don’t put them on after I strip and neither does he.

“We all have a couple sets of interchangeable clothes at each other’s homes. That’s why I have the suits hanging in the guest bedroom. I have three spare rooms, and they each have some clothes in there. I already have a toothbrush here, but I’ll find a new one for you.”

It feels so normal to share the bathroom with Shane, each of us brushing our teeth and then climbing into bed together.

“What do you need, cailín ?”

I know he doesn’t mean toiletries or different pjs.

“I wish we’d had a chance to get some toys.”

“Me too. I’m definitely not asking my brother to borrow anything other than these clothes.”

I glance toward the door, then at Shane, too surprised to say anything.

“Little one, we’re hardly the only couple who likes it kinky.”

“You want to have sex here? With your brother down the hall?”

“Try not to scream my name too loudly.” His smile is pure sex and sin.

“I—I—don’t know.” I don’t. I’m too surprised.

He guides me out of the bathroom but stops at the closet.

“Stand at the foot of the bed facing it.”

His command isn’t one to disobey. It excites me, but a shiver of apprehension courses through me when I realize he has a handful of ties as he approaches. Without a word, he grasps my right wrist and raises it over my head as he positions me in front of one of the tall bedposts. He wraps a tie around it before lifting my left one next to my right. I don’t know if it’s some fancy boy scout knot or what, but I can’t budge. He bends and fastens my ankles to the post just like he did my wrists.

“This isn’t punishment. Just the opposite. You’ve been so brave, cailín . You impress me over and over. I was so terrified they’d take me from you. That I wouldn’t protect you. Your calm’s kept me from losing my shite. I want to show you how much I appreciate that.”

“Thank you, Daddy. I want whatever’s coming.”

“If you change your mind, safe word, Carrie.”

“I know.”

I close my eyes, unsure what to expect. It’s the tip of the tie that runs down the length of my back, barely skimming over me. It draws all my attention, so I’m unprepared for the first spank. I jerk forward, and my clit rubs the bedpost as my back arches. I turn to look over my shoulder. I can guess nothing from his expression. He glides the tie up my right ribs, and it tickles. I try to shy away, but the next spank lands on my horizontal crack, pushing my ass up. It rubs my clit against the wood again.

The way he’s stretched me, my tits are on each side of the post. He shifts and pinches my left nipple. He tugs, increasing the pressure as the next two spanks send me onto my toes. I’m unprepared for all of this, but especially when he lets go of my stinging nipple and immediately slaps it. It’s painful, and my pussy aches for him to slip inside me.

“Daddy.”

It’s more a moan than a word.

“Yes, little girl?”

“I—” I don’t know what to say.

“Do you want to ask me to finger you?”

I nod.

“Do you want to ask me to suck on your clit?

I nod again.

“Do you want to ask me to fuck your arse?”

“Good God, yes.”

His chuckle makes me squeeze my thighs. If a sound could be decadent, it would be Shane’s voice.

“I don’t think you’re ready for any of those things.”

“I am.”

“I’m certain you think so. But last I checked, your cunt belongs to me now. I decide.”

“Could you decide to fuck me?”

I swallow my scream as his next three spanks are harder than the earlier ones.

“I could, but I won’t. Your body belongs to me, cailín . You won’t convince me to do anything sooner than I want. You’re mine to pleasure, and this won’t be quick. And before you suggest I want to get off, so we should fuck, you should know the view from where I’m standing is magnificent. I’m going to take my time and appreciate it.”

His hand runs up the length of my back before I feel his chest press against it. He nips my earlobe before kissing right behind it.

“I own your orgasms, little girl. I give them, and I keep them. You’ll get plenty tonight, but not yet. Do you know why?”

His hand grabs my ass and squeezes until it’s nearly too much. He pulls the other cheek wide and presses his cock against my hole. I know he won’t enter me, but he’s reminding me he could

“Because you’re Daddy.”

“Whose daddy?”

“Mine.”

“Am I anyone else’s?”

“No. You belong to only me.”

“That’s right.”

He backs away, and it’s suddenly freezing without the radiator pressed against me. The man exudes heat. I wait, but nothing happens. I twist as best I can to see him. He’s watching me with his right ankle crossed over his left, his arms folded. He’s really just staring. His eyes tell me he likes what he sees.

The uncertainty of what’s coming next makes me squirm. I know he’s enjoying that, but it’s driving me nuts. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out how much my pussy aches—burns—for him to be inside me.

“Ugh!”

I don’t hear him approach, so I’m unprepared for the spank. I don’t scream, but I’m louder than I intend. He kisses my shoulder, then rakes his teeth over it. He kneels and unfastens my ankles. He loosens my wrists enough to turn me around. He presses a hard, fast, and hungry kiss to my lips. Just as I’m ready to sink into it and enjoy it drawing out, he pulls away. He nudges my feet apart and cups my pussy.

“You’re so wet for me, Carrie.”

“I know. You look pretty hard, Daddy.”

“I am.”

He strokes himself, and I hate it. I want to do that, and he knows it. He slides three fingers into me, spreading them inside my cunt. He pulls them out halfway but adds his fourth when he drives them into me. He strokes my g spot. My hips jerk forward, then my ass slams back into the posts as my pussy tries to chase his fingers, drawing them deeper. His thumb works my clit, and I close my eyes, resting my forehead against my left bicep.

I need to come.

He knows it and pulls out. He slaps my pussy four times. I both want to retreat and offer him more. He pinches my clit as he leans in to whisper to me.

“Beg.”

I don’t think twice. “Daddy, please. I need to come so badly it hurts. I need you.”

“I know.”

He slaps my pussy again.

“Beg.”

“I’ll do whatever you want. Just, please, let me come.”

He pinches my clit yet again.

“No.”

He leans in and latches onto my left nipple. He toys with it, using his tongue and teeth before he sucks. I want my hands free to offer him both, but when I tug, I’m reminded I don’t get to decide any of this. That thought excites me even more.

“You enjoy being at my mercy, don’t you?”

He lifts his head enough to look up at me, so our gazes meet.

“Very much.”

He sucks on my other nipple until it’s a tight dart. Then he pulls away. I’m unprepared for him to release me from the bed post. But I should have known he wasn’t done yet. He moves me to the center between both posts. He has my arms and legs stretched wide and fastened to the posts before I realize what’s happening. I’m facing away from the bed, so it’s easy for him to wrap a tie around my tits, pushing them together, and making them stand out. He slaps them five times, his broad palm landing against them at the same time.

He drops to his knees and dives in. He feasts on my pussy, his fingers biting into my ass as he holds me in place. His tongue delves into me before flicking and toying with my already sensitive clit. He goes around and around, edging me until I’m in a cold sweat and trembling. He kisses along the inside of my thigh, making my kneecap quiver. He releases my ankles before he stands. When he unbinds my arms, he rubs them and moves them to ensure they aren’t stiff.

I don’t expect him to wrap the tie around both wrists behind my back. He grasps a handful of my hair in his right hand as his left presses on my shoulder until I sink to my knees.

“Do you want my cock, little girl?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I bet you want it in your pussy. I bet you don’t want to suck me off.”

I don’t, but I want to play this game.

“I want what you want.” Which isn’t untrue.

“Open wide, cailín .”

He guides his dick into my mouth, and I hum as I suck. I love the groan that elicits. He pushes my head forward as his hips flex, but he’s careful. He doesn’t make me gag. He just controls where my head is. His movements are shallow and slow. I watch him as his eyes slide shut. His free hand cups my jaw, and for the umpteenth time, I’m reminded how gentle he is when he wants to be. His thumb brushes over my cheekbone before he pulls out.

I huff.

He chuckles.

He helps me to my feet and takes the ties off my wrists and tits. He kisses my nipples and across my chest and up my neck over and over. His hands once again grip my ass, squeezing. I push my hips back as though I can burrow my ass into his palms even more.

“Daddy, mark me.”

He pauses and looks up at me. His grip grows so tight I whimper, but he doesn’t let go. He knows I’ll safe word if I can’t take it. His mouth travels to the outsides of my tits then the insides, leaving hickies all over them. He trails his love bites down my belly, smattering them across there. I watch, loving all of this. When he stands again, he cups my jaw.

“Tell me how you want me inside you. Use my cock to get off, little girl. Let me see what you want.”

It’s a command wrapped in the pretty bow of an offer.

“I want missionary. I want to see all your muscles flexing in your shoulders, pecs, and abs. I love watching it. You have the best body, and it turns me on to see how strong you are, yet you hold back to make sure you never hurt me.”

“Get on the bed, mo stór .”

“What does that mean?”

“My darling.”

I obey as my heart feels like it’s too big for my chest. I don’t know why that endearment means so much right now, but it’s everything to me. I open my arms and legs, wrapping them around him as he settles between my thighs. Then he’s inside me. The gentleness is gone. He controls my body again.

“Harder, Daddy. As hard as you can.”

“Never, Carrie. Only as hard as I dare.”

I could love this man. I want to. I’m definitely almost there. We’re about as unconventional as you can get, considering our dates have involved running from or hiding from a rival syndicate and law enforcement. Fucking Bonnie and Clyde.

He lifts my right leg over his shoulder and pounds into me.

“Come, Carrie. Now.”

I tilt my hips up, and he rubs my clit just right.

“Fuck, Daddy. Yes.”

I force my eyes to remain open because I don’t want to miss a moment of this. His body is magnificent. Watching his muscles flex is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. It drives me wilder.

“Fuck, Carrie. I can’t last like I thought I could.”

“Come, Daddy. Please. I need to know I made you come.”

My need to make that happen replaces my need to come as my second orgasm hits me. He slams into me, grinding his pubic bone against my clit as he pants. He rocks his hips, rubbing against me. I know he’s coming. I did that. I made him come.

He lowers my leg, and I hook it over his hip. His kiss is soft and languid, and I don’t want it to end. We’re both panting and sweating as we watch each other when we draw apart. There’s nothing to say. We understand each other without words.

He rolls us, so I’m straddling him. We work together to pull the covers over us. We remain like this until his cock refuses to stay hard. I shift to snuggle into the crook of his arm. We’re both out like a light in an instant.

Our peaceful sleep shatters when hands yank me from the bed where I’m still snuggled close to Shane. I scream as I’m practically dropped on the floor naked. Shane’s scrambling to reach for the bedside table before he realizes—just like I do—this isn’t exactly an enemy attack.

“Carys Pritchard, you’re under arrest.”

Shane can’t draw a weapon on federal agents. Instead, he swings and nails one in the face before he rips the comforter from the bed and tosses it toward me. He has no issue crawling across the bed naked as he wraps the blanket around me.

“Get the fuck out, so my girlfriend can get dressed.”

“This time around, Mr. O’Rourke, you don’t issue the orders.”

I gawk at Steve, completely stunned he’s the one who came in here and put his hands on me. The moment they realized I was undressed—which should have been instantly, since I always sleep with my top arm above the covers—they should have only sent in a female agent to get me out of bed. Shane would have stayed covered up if that were the case, but four agents in this bedroom—three of whom are male—means there’s no way Shane would react calmly to this. It’s clear he doesn’t care who sees him naked, but he very much cares I’m exposed and vulnerable.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here.”

Each word’s punctuated with venom as he glowers at Steve. When I sweep my gaze over the other agents standing in the room, it registers they all have their guns drawn.

“Shane!” That’s Sean’s voice yelling from down the hall.

“Yeah?”

“They got you, too?”

“Yeah, they don’t want to let Carys get dressed.”

“That’s some bullshit. We’ll have all of their names and badges.”

The brothers go back and forth down the hall, forcing the agents to turn their attention toward the voice coming from a bedroom they can’t see. It gives me the chance to grab the t-shirt from the end of the bed. We woke up a couple hours ago, clawing at each other, needing to feel our bodies joined again, so we never wound up putting clothes on. Once I’m covered with the t-shirt, I stand and reach for the shorts, but Steve grabs my wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing? Keep your hands where we can see them.”

I look incredulously at him. The t-shirt covers my ass, but not much more than that. I put my hands up and glance over at Angela.

“Hand me my shorts, please. You can search them before you give them to me.”

She grabs them and pats them down before she flings them at me. I’m being treated like a suspect, not a colleague. Then again, they arrived, declaring they’re arresting me.

Once I have my shorts on, Shane pays attention to his own nakedness and grabs the clothes he laid on the bed when he got me the shorts and shirt. Neither of us speaks, exerting our right to remain silent. They try to ask us questions and demand answers, but we both clam up. As they cuff us, his gaze locks with mine, and I’m certain I understand what he’s thinking. I should remain silent, and his family will get us out of this somehow.

We meet Sean on the landing, and he’s handcuffed as well. It wouldn’t surprise me if they’re going to charge him as an accomplice to my alleged crimes. Or they’ll say he harbored a fugitive, or he’s aiding and abetting my evasion from law enforcement.

The twins dressed identically. They’re even wearing the same basketball shorts. There’s a slight difference in pattern to their t-shirts, but they have the same brand and design to them. It truly is uncanny, since I’m certain they each have other clothes here in their closets but picked matching outfits. I wonder if they’ve always done that. Or are these their getting-arrested clothes? It wouldn’t surprise me if this family had an entire wardrobe designed just for encountering law enforcement. I know that’s ridiculous, but it still feels like a possibility.

They separate all of us when we get downstairs. There’re cars waiting for us. Among them are three sedans with metal grates to separate the arrested party from the law enforcement. I recognize the agents who take Shane and Sean. Angela and Steve climb into the car with me.

Immediately, the game begins. It’s not good cop, bad cop. It’s good cop, good cop. They try to sweeten me up by reassuring me everything’ll be fine, and that they’ll help me, and that it’s all been an act to convince our colleagues they’re taking my arrest seriously. Steve’s voice makes me want to drive my fist up his nose.

“Carys, we know you got caught up in all of this, and I’m sure it began as a way to protect yourself against Bartlomiej, but you’ve got to come into the office without resisting.

He falls silent for a moment. I assume he thinks I’ll agree with him, but I keep my lips sealed. Angela glances over at him. I see her head move through the cutout pattern of the metal grate. She gives it a try.

“Come on, Carys. We know you wouldn’t have done any of this if you weren’t under duress. Shane O’Rourke’s obviously forcing you.”

That’s laughable considering how they found us asleep, curled up together. I never once went anywhere near Bartlomiej when I slept in the same bed with him. Anytime he tried to make us cuddle, I’d claim I was too hot and roll away. I’ve never been more comfortable than sleeping beside Shane.

I nearly forget Angela’s speaking.

“We know how men like him are. So do you. You were just embedded with a syndicate, and you dated their leader.”

She knows how much I loathe it when anyone outside of the Poles refers to the assignment as me dating Bartlomiej. She’s trying to wind me up, but I won’t let her know it affects me. I’m positive she knows Shane is nothing like Bartlomiej.

We’re all familiar with the various crime family members’ dossiers. I might not have known Shane before meeting him, but I was aware of him. I’m certain he does the same things Bartlomiej does, but in no way does Shane come across anything like Bartlomiej.

I’m not the first agent embedded in a syndicate. Many undercover agents wind up quitting the assignment early on out of fear. Some stay even longer than I did and find it’s far healthier for them to report very little. There’re plenty of people throughout the agency’s history who haven’t fallen prey to the syndicates and have provided information that’s brought families down.

But the Four Families who run New York now are far more subtle and far wiser than their predecessors. Consequently, it’s been a long ass time since any of the federal agencies have scraped together enough evidence to make an arrest, let alone any convictions.

I listen to Angela and Steve continue to grasp at straws, but I don’t engage. I look out the window as we head to the DEA building on 10 th Ave in Manhattan. At least they haven’t taken me to Central Booking to hand me over to the police to be locked up for the rest of the night.

I noticed Shane sleeps with his watch on, and as he wrapped the comforter around me, he pressed a button on the side. My guess is that’s a tracker. I noticed Sean has a matching one he wore. They’re identical right down to their taste in accessories. The only thing different between them was Sean had on his wedding ring. I’m certain it won’t go over well if anybody tries to take that from him.

If both watches have trackers, then Shane and Sean both activated them. Their family will know what’s going on, and they’ll grasp the severity of the situation when both trackers ping them traveling to the same place.

When we arrive at the DEA building, Steve pulls into the underground garage. That’s not always how we—they—do things. I’m not one of them anymore. They only pull into this garage when they’re transporting suspects or convicted criminals they want nobody to see. I suppose I fall under the category of suspect for right now. If things go to trial, there’s a good chance I’ll soon be labeled a felon.