Shattered Hearts (Irish Kings #1)

14. Riley

Chapter 14

Riley

Move in with Finn? Just like that?

After that intense and bloody make out session we had earlier?

I’m going to make you come…over and over again. On my fingers. On my cock. On my tongue.

After that?

I know I’m moving in for safety, but in another way, this is the most dangerous move I can make. And not just because Finn and I alone together in an empty apartment are a fuck-risk.

Getting my own apartment and taking my job at the shelter are the only two decisions I’ve made on my own in twenty-three years. They’re the first two steps I took in gaining independence from my family. Take away my apartment, and I’m one inch closer to being under my father’s thumb yet again.

I don’t bother arguing though. Based on the muscle twitching in his neck and set jaw, Finn won’t be taking no for an answer.

By the time the pickup crew arrives, I’ve gotten myself back into the “act like Harper” mindset and packed all my essentials—everything that could be salvaged—into my one and only suitcase.

In the alley behind my apartment, I say goodbye to my second-floor walk-up, eyes misting with tears. I left a note for Jodi and the Zhangs telling them I’ll be out of town for a few weeks but don’t have a return date.

How did it turn out like this?

In terse commands, Finn directs the crew my father sent. As I watch the workers haul out the broken furniture, at first I think they’re helping as a courtesy. Then I realize it’s the perfect cover. The last item extracted from my apartment is a giant rug I’ve never seen before, into which an unconscious Troy Sullivan has been rolled up.

They toss the rug into the back of their van with the rest of the furniture.

Finn materializes at my side. “Ready?” Before I can respond, he hands my luggage to one of the crew guys. “Make sure this gets delivered to my room.”

His room.

Oh, right. As “Harper,” you have to sleep in there.

My stomach flutters at that thought.

When he walks away, I follow him with uncertain steps. “Um, why are they taking my suitcase?”

He twirls a key ring around his finger. “There’s not enough room.”

“In your car ?”

“On my bike.”

I stop walking. “Excuse me?”

Finn continues, stopping only when he reaches a motorcycle. He sticks the key in the ignition.

He gives the crew behind us a whistle, and their moving van departs the alleyway, like they were waiting for his signal.

Now, it’s just the two of us and this hunk of gleaming metal.

“I…um?—”

“Put this on.” Finn offers me a bulky helmet.

“Where’s yours?”

“Only brought one.” He throws a leg over the seat and nods at me. “Hop on.”

That’s what I do.

Arms holding Finn in a death grip, I try to ignore how good his lean, hard body feels pressed against mine as my mind reels from the last several hours.

This morning, I woke up drained to the point of partial brain death, and tonight, after almost being murdered, I’m supposed to fall off to sleep in the same room as Finn, my sexy fake husband and future-brother-in-law? Plus, live with him, twenty-four seven, like a real married couple, starting tomorrow?

Un-fucking-believable.

My apprehension about a surprise motorcycle ride with Finn dies down as we tear through the city, streetlights and honking cars in every direction. Though being wrapped around Finn for the second time today feels as dangerous as the first, the advantage of this travel configuration is we can’t exactly talk…at least not easily.

Because I don’t know what I’ll say when Finn brings up that kiss. And he’s going to. I know he will. What happened at the wedding was for the sake of protecting the charade. But me throwing myself at him in my apartment?

That was reckless.

I squeeze my eyes shut against the shame building in my sternum.

What the hell were you thinking? How could you be so stupid?

I don’t know what came over me.

When I go over the events in my mind, I see myself walking into my den, seconds before Finn ended Troy. I had no idea what all Finn had done to him while I cowered in the other room waiting for my panic attack to subside enough for me to come out.

No one hurts my wife.

He had a wild glint in his eyes, like he wanted to rip Troy apart for hurting me. Like he was worried.

After that, I didn’t think. I just acted.

But sooner or later, I’ll be gone from Finn’s life. Harper will get her shit together, and Finn will be hers.

Hers. Not mine.

So why am still I drawn to him like a moth to a flame?

My downward spiral continues until we pull to a stop outside South Gate. After Finn and the security guy make eye contact, the wall splits open in the middle and rolls apart.

My heart thumps double-time as we accelerate through the gate and wind around the main road toward the garage.

We didn’t speak a word the whole trip home, but now that we’re back, we’ll have to say something . I’m so mixed up inside, I don’t know whether to apologize for my lapse in judgment, or just act like it never happened.

Finn slows, maneuvering the bike into the small maze that is the Gallagher garage. There’s one lot for service and delivery vehicles outside and to the left, another for pickup crews dead ahead, and a third to our right for the sports cars and other vehicles Finn and the rest of the residents drive.

As we pull toward the fancy car lot, I spot the van that Troy was thrown into. How they beat us here is a mystery, unless Finn took a detour. I guess I must have zoned out.

“As much as I like the way you feel wrapped around me, we have to get off.” Finn rests a hand on my thigh. “I need to see your dad.”

I swing my leg over the bike and remove the helmet. “Why?”

“Policy.” Finn takes the helmet from me and sets it on the seat. “Plus, I’ve got first dibs on fuckface. We didn’t get enough out of him back there…”

His reference reminds me of the throb in my hand. I still need that ice. “Okay.”

“Your things should be in my room by now.”

Wait a damn minute. “You expect me to go up there? By myself?”

“Yeah. You know where it is?”

“I…yes, but…I can’t do that.”

He shoots me an impatient glare. “Why not?”

“Why not?” I squeak. My cheeks heat as I run my fingers through my helmet-mussed hair. “I can’t just walk into an enforcer’s suite?—”

“Says who?” I must be imagining the way he steps in closer to me. “You’re my wife, aren’t you?”

His wife. Oh, yeah. I’m impersonating Harper.

I’ve only been back on Gallagher property for a few minutes, and already I’ve regressed to my teenage self, worried about what Thomas Brennan will do if he thinks I’m fooling around with one of his men. My horror at my own slip leaves me speechless.

“Did you forget already?” His lips curl up in a half grin.

“Umm…” There’s no way I’m going to admit that I did.

“I’ll let you know what we find out.” Finn’s promise is like a hand slapping me awake after death.

He’s going to keep me in the loop?

No one keeps me in the loop. Even in my informant days, Dad never told me everything about the situations he sent me into. Finn is treating me like an equal, like a teammate, as though we’re going to face this crazy predicament we’re in together .

The idea of being in this together is so unexpectedly…meaningful, I have no idea what to say to Finn.

“Okay.” I gulp around another lump in my throat. “Will you be back later?”

“Yeah.” With a sober face, Finn takes my bad hand in his, gentler than a man this violent should be capable of. My heart soars.

“The first thing we’re going to do when I get back is see about this swelling.”

The sight of my swollen hand between his rough ones does something to me I can’t explain. I need to get out of here pronto.

Before I tackle him again.

His head falls to one side. “That was some punch.”

And then he’s gone.

Did Finn Gallagher just give me a compliment?

Five minutes after he’s disappeared, I’m still standing there like an idiot. What the hell am I going to do? I don’t even know how to act around Finn.

I float into the mansion, walking the halls like a zombie. I can’t think about what just happened at my apartment. My brain’s too full.

Never, not even in the last four days, have I set foot in an enforcer’s private quarters at the Gallagher estate.

Finn, along with his friends, lives on the third floor of the mansion.

When I lived here, both my room and Harper’s were on the second floor, in the opposite wing. We had no reason to venture upstairs.

At this moment, I have Finn’s permission and the electronic key to get in. While disguised and pretending to be his wife, I technically have the right to go up there too. But that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable doing so.

The notion goes against all my programming. It’s so bad that when I reach the second-floor landing, my feet go rogue and head left down the hallway instead of onward up the staircase.

I can’t calm down at all. Me, go up to the third floor and sit around in Finn Gallagher’s bedroom, waiting for him to come home from work? Too much. Way too much.

Instead, I wander into Harper’s suite, my one and only safe haven in this place while stuck in this charade. Inside, I head straight to her giant bed. Diving between her Egyptian cotton sheets and designer duvet, I hide myself in darkness that smells of expensive perfume and try to settle.

I hope things will be better between us when she returns.

Later, when my cheeks stop burning and my thoughts quit racing, I gravitate to Harper’s writing desk. Like me, she keeps her most precious items there. Most of them I recognize. Trinkets from our travels. Postcards from our cousins. A yearbook with all the superlatives she won that year, tape-flagged at the back.

Our yearbook photos?—

“What are you doing in here?”

My body’s on high alert as my head snaps up.

Cian Mahoney surveys me from across Harper’s room, an unreadable visage on his face. How the hell did he get in here? Did I forget to lock the door?

He walks my way. I haven’t seen him since the reception on Saturday.

The guy could, without a doubt, quit the mob and transition to modeling any day. Though I’m immune to it, I can still feel his sexiness all around me, like water in a pool.

Cian gives off this vibe, like he’s a hot genie who’ll grant you one wish. Except the only wish women around him have is to worship his dick. And if his dick is anything like the rest of him —safe to assume—it’s probably a big, beautiful masterpiece. Not that I have any interest in his anatomy.

The question is, why is he in Harper’s bedroom? Even more important, is this a regular occurrence?

What are the odds he’s hooked up with her in the past?

A horrible thought bursts into my head. Oh shit. What if he tries to kiss me…or worse?

Twirling a few blond strands around my fingertips the way my sister does, I tilt my head. “What are you doing in here?”

Cian folds his arms, unamused. “I asked you first.”

“What are you, eight?” I shoot him a glare. “And it’s my room. Why wouldn’t I be in here?”

“Nix the theatrics, Riley .” Cian struts across the room and sits on the edge of Harper’s bed. “I know who you are.”

I want to deny him, but he’s called my bluff.

Even though Harper and I are identical, he somehow knows the counterfeit from the original.

Do they have some kind of intimate connection? I’m hesitant to think that’s the case. Harper’s always been so picky about guys. Plenty of them approach her, hoping to add her to their conquest wall, but she never goes for that. Basically, she doesn’t give men like Cian the time of day. And Cian’s the kind of man who could leave a club with five Harpers on his arm. On a bad night. On a good night…I digress.

I’m stressed, confused, on the verge of a breakdown. Time to take the gloves off.

“ How do you know who I am?”

Cian scoffs, as though he considers my Harper performance straight-up trash.

“Fine.” I toss my hands up. “You caught me. Care to tell me how you figured it out?”

Though he’s careful to keep his expression neutral, a vein pulses in his neck. “Wasn’t hard to put two and two together. At the wedding, I realized you were, well, you. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but?—”

“What I’m playing at?” Anger simmers in my blood. “In the last few days, my life has been turned upside down. I went to the wedding against my better judgment, was coerced into agreeing to pose as my sister for the ceremony and reception when she never showed, and now here we are. The last thing I ever wanted was to step foot in this godforsaken place again, but let’s just say I’ve had little choice in the matter. So don’t you dare accuse me of playing at anything.”

His brows knit together. “So Shane is forcing you to pose as Harper? For how long?”

“Pretty much…though I’d say it’s mainly my father’s doing. And your guess is as good as mine. Harper left a note that said ‘I’m sorry,’ so I get the impression she wasn’t too keen on marrying Finn.”

Something akin to relief flickers across Cian’s face. “Can’t really say that I blame her. They hardly knew each other.”

“Yeah, well, such is the way of the Mafia. Maybe she had enough and decided to leave…for good.” I don’t know why I’m telling him all this, but I don’t exactly have anyone else to talk to.

“Like you did.”

I nod. “I just hope she’s okay.”

“Have you called her?”

“Called and texted…several times, actually. She hasn’t replied.” How do I explain my relationship with my sister to this hardened enforcer? “We, umm…we’ve sort of drifted apart over the years. She’s probably fine and just doesn’t want to talk to me.”

At least, I pray that’s the case.

The sudden intensity in his eyes makes me squirm. “I hope so…that she’s all right, I mean.”

“You seem awfully concerned.” Is there something going on between them?

“Of course I’m concerned. Why wouldn’t I be? I don’t want any harm to come to Harper any more than anyone else around here does.”

Hmm. “Fair enough. You still haven’t told me why you’re in her room, though.”

Cian offers a lazy half shrug. “Finn’s looking for you.”