Page 62
Story: Duncan
“Have a seat,” I said without making eye contact. I folded my hands together on my desk and looked at the middle McGuire brother.
There were three of them. Ronan was the oldest. He left Boston five years ago to take over the organization in Louisiana after the former boss fucked up and got himself killed.
Liam was the middle child. He and Ronan had a tumultuous relationship at best. At worst, they tried to kill each other. All over a woman that wasn’t worth a damn.
Then there was Gavin. The youngest. The peacekeeper. He tried his best to be Switzerland between his brothers, but he usually got caught in the middle, forced to choose a side. But no matter which side he chose, it was always the wrong one.
“We leave for New Orleans in a couple of days. I need you to come with us.”
“No.”
“It wasn’t a request.”
“Sorry, boss. But no.”
I leaned back in my chair and studied Liam. He had never told me no in the past. He was a good leader who would never ask his men to do something he wasn’t willing to do himself.
“Sheena’s not there. It’s time to reconcile.”
Liam’s jaw ticked, and the thin line of his mouth said he was having a hard time restraining himself. He turned his head and looked out the window. “How do you know?”
“Gavin spoke to Niall.”
“Kid never learned to keep his mouth shut,” he grumbled.
“Yea, little brothers have a way of pissing us off.”
“I’m sorry, boss. I can’t go.”
“Not an option, Liam. The order came from Sal.”
I had hoped I wouldn’t have to pull that card. But Liam was stubborn, like every other person on the earth of Irish descent.
“There will come a day when your brothers are gone and there will be no opportunity for I’m sorry.”
“He slept with my fuckin’ wife. I have nothing to apologize for.”
“No, but he does. And he wants a chance to say it.”
“He doesn’t deserve it,” Liam grumbled.
“Maybe not. But family first. Always.”
“Can I go?”
“Yea, we leave in four days. Be packed and ready to go.”
Liam stood from his seat and stomped out the door. He was thirty-two years old and divorced for five years. He hadn’t had a serious relationship since.
He was jaded. Who wouldn’t be? Hell, I was jaded, and I’d only had one night with Freyja. But the moment she told me there was someone else, I swear my fucking heart broke.
What the hell was it about that woman? Yes, she was beautiful. And sweet. She was fucking fierce, though. The way she didn’t cower when I held her throat in my hand made me fucking hard.
I spun in my chair and stared out the window. I wondered what this mystery guy had that I didn’t. Maybe he was closer to her age. Eighteen years could be a lot for some women. Hell, I was old enough to be her father.
I told myself it was better this way. A woman in her thirties probably wanted kids. We hadn’t talked about that, though, because we only had one goddamn night before she walked out of my life.
Chapter Twenty
Table of Contents
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