Page 6

CHAPTER SIX

Sean

I HATE PLAYING nice with Noah. Acting like I don’t know he’s betraying the family. For three weeks now I’ve been coming to the Pub for our weekly check-in, and each time it makes my skin crawl and my hand itch to grab my gun.

Taking a deep breathe, I try to calm myself. We need Noah to remain oblivious to the fact that we are onto him.

A few weeks ago Callum secretly changed the closed network camera system at the Pub, to an open one that we can now access remotely. Then last week, Callum and I planted a few bugs so we could get audio.

We were able to get the bugs under the cash register at the bar, behind the fryer in the kitchen, under the desk in the office, and one in the thermostat located on the wall by the back corner booth. The same booth we have seen Patrick sitting at on several occasions from the old camera footage. Hopefully the bugs will go undetected long enough for us to get their next conversation on record.

So far he hasn’t been back since we planted them. It’s only a matter of time before he visits again.

“All right, thanks Noah. I’ll see you again next week.” I say as I shake his hand and head for the door. It’s our usual good-bye. At least outwardly it is. On the inside I am shaking with rage. I want so badly to turn around and punch him in the face. Instead I focus on walking calmly to the car. Callum hot on my heels. I can feel the rage burning off of him too.

We jump in the back seat, Rian and Oscar climb into the front and quickly get us on the road.

“Fucking hate that fucker!” Grunts Callum. “Hate playing fucking nice.”

I nod in agreement. “I know man. Takes every ounce of restraint not to slam his face into the table whenever I see him. I’m going to enjoy cutting his tongue out of his mouth when this is all over. Fucking nothing but lies come out of his mouth”

My knuckles ache from how tightly I am squeezing my fists. I need to release some of this energy. When I get this worked up, I either need to fight or fuck.

I quickly weigh my options.

Fuck it. I haven’t gotten laid in a while, and I can’t seem to get Tara out of my damn head. Maybe a good hard fuck with someone else is just what I need.

I instruct Rian to drop me off at the hotel. Then I pull out my phone and text Jessica that I want to see her at the suite. It’s been months since I’ve reached out to her, but I know she’ll answer. She likes my dick too much. She’s always eager to drop whatever she is doing to come to me. I should feel guilty about that. I know that means she’s got feelings for me and she’s just waiting for me to realize mine. Too bad I don’t have feelings to find for her. I don’t feel any way about her. It would make no difference to me if she ignores me or tells me no tonight. I would just move onto the next name in my phone.

She answers immediately that she’ll be there in twenty minutes.

It takes Rian no time at all to get to the hotel. I make a quick stop at the gift shop to grab a box of condoms before I head up. I haven’t been here in months, but I’m pretty sure I remember using the last of the condoms I had with Tara.

I’m just taking off my jacket in the room, when there is a knock on the door.

Sure enough, Jessica is there. Standing in a knee length trench coat tied shut, with stockings and a pair of six-inch heels. She steps forward, places her hands on my shoulders and leans in for a kiss. Like every time we meet, I turn my head so she misses my lips and hits my cheek. I don’t kiss. I don’t do oral. I have other ways of making sure my partner gets off that aren’t so intimate.

Well, that used to be true.

I kissed Tara. I kissed Tara a lot. I licked, sucked, and bit every inch of her body.

I hadn’t wanted to stop kissing her.

“Hey handsome.” Purrs Jessica. “You haven’t called in a while.”

“I’ve been busy.” I say simply. She doesn’t get an explanation.

I move out of the doorway and motion for her to come in. She strips off her coat to reveal a matching set of red lingerie. She tosses her coat on the back of the couch, while I move to the drink cart in the corner to pour a whiskey.

She walks over to the side of the bed and goes about getting our usual supply of goodies out of the drawer. Lube, handcuffs and condoms. Well, condom. There’s only one left. I’m glad I thought to grab more.

I watch Jessica curiously as she moves over to the other side of the bed and opens the other table drawer. I’ve never used that drawer. Alarm bells begin to ring in my head. I’m not sure why, but I trust my gut and something in my gut is telling me that Jessica is up to something.

I need to play it cool to find out what she’s up to. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her, could Patrick have approached her during that time? Is she working for him? Did she plant something here?

“Ready for me?” I ask, keeping my voice soft as I strip off my shirt.

She stills, closes the drawer, then turns to me. Putting her lips in that weird pout that girls always seem to think men find sexy. It’s not. “Always.” She smiles seductively as she moves around the edge of the bed to get closer to me. She runs her fingers over my chest, then asks, “Where’s the rest of our condoms?”

Another red flag. Our condoms? There is no ‘our’ in this room.

Wanting to see what she does next, I answer truthfully. “I used them all.”

A brief look of panic flashes in her eyes. So quick I almost miss it.

Interesting.

It’s replaced quickly with what looks like jealousy. The hair on the back of my neck immediately stands at attention.

She wipes the look from her eyes and gives me a smile. “No worries. I can run downstairs and get more.”

“No need. I already got some.” I reply as I pull them out of my discarded jacket pocket. Now normally when I get a bad gut feeling about a girl, I toss them out. No questions. No conversation. They are just gone.

With Patrick still in the wind and playing dirty tricks to gain supporters, I need to see this through with Jessica. See if she’s up to something, and if so, is it Patrick’s influence.

I hand the box of condoms to Jessica. She eager takes them, her eyes lighting up. Interesting. “Do you want a drink?” I ask her.

She nods. Then visibly swallows. “Yes, please.”

I turn my back to her and go back over to the bar cart. The drink is just an excuse to turn my back on her. If she is going to do something, now would be the time. Which is perfect because from where I stand, I can see her in the reflection of the balcony doors.

“What would you like?” I ask. Making sure to give her ample time to do whatever it is she’s planning.

She’s sitting on the bed. The box of condoms open beside her. “Oh, anything is fine.” Her hands move to her left ear. She fiddles with it for a moment, then picks up the strand of rubbers. “Actually, can you make it a vodka tonic?”

I’m not listening. I didn’t pour her a drink. I only refilled my glass.

Son of a bitch.

It was her earring. She took the stud out of her ear and is using it to poke holes in the condoms. Still not turning around, I pull out my phone and text Oscar. As my bodyguard, he’s always nearby. I’ve got the suite across the hall blocked out for him whenever I am here. There are cameras in the hall and by the door that he can monitor from in there, and not be conspicuous. I let him know I have a situation and I’m going to need a few men and a quiet extraction.

I tuck my phone away, and go back to watching her. My blood is boiling as I watch her methodically use the back of the earring to poke at each foil. Then she uses her finger to rub over the tiny holes. I’m guessing she is making sure the foil lays flat again so it would be harder to tell they were tampered with. Once the last hole is poked, she puts her earring back in. That’s my queue. With my drink in hand, I prowl over to her. Making sure I maintain eye contact with her the whole time.

She smiles nervously at me. Her gaze dips to my hands. “Where’s my drink?” She asks.

I smile in return and bring my glass to my lips. “Sorry, babe.” I say after I down the rest of the glass. “All out of tonic.”

Her smile falters when she hears me call her babe. I’ve never used that term of endearment with her. In fact, I’ve never used any term of endearment with her.

I lean down, getting nice and close to her face. My right hand tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. I let my hands trail to the back of her head. Making a fist with her hair, I yank her head back. Tears of pain spring to her eyes as she cries out.

“Baby what’s going on? What did I do?” She tries pleading with me.

She’s out of her damn mind. Keeping my hand buried in her hair, I whisper. “You know what you did.”

“I didn’t….” I cut her off with another yank.

“What was your plan for after you got pregnant?”

The dreamy look on her face vanishes. Panic is setting in. “What?”

I grab one of the ribbons of condoms and hold them up. “What was the plan? Get pregnant and blackmail me for money? Get pregnant and demand to be married?”

She shakes her head at me. I can see the wheels of her mind working. “I don’t know what…”

I turn and throw the empty whiskey glass against the wall. “Don’t lie to me!” I scream.

Oscar bursts through the door, gun in hand. Rian and Callum are behind him. They quickly assess the situation and take sentry at the door.

“How long have you been doing it?” I ask, releasing my grip on her hair and pushing her away from me. Looking down at her stomach, she doesn’t look pregnant. When does a woman start to show? I think back to what Tara’s stomach looked like when she came to the club. She was three months along and didn’t appear to be showing. That was a week ago, and I hadn’t been with Jessica in over a month before I was with Tara. “I can assume since you were poking holes in the condoms tonight that you’re not pregnant yet, right?”

She glances at the condoms, then back at me before shaking her head.

“Is this the first time you’ve done this?”

There’s hesitation in her eyes. She doesn’t want to tell me. I don’t say a word. Just keep staring at her in silence. It takes a moment before she answers. “No.”

“How many times?”

Her voice is barely a whisper. “Once.”

“Just the one condom?” She shakes her head no. “The whole box?” She nods.

Fuck. This is bad. This is very bad.

I don’t think Jessica is pregnant. But Tara is.

“Where are those condoms now?” My voice is shaking. With rage or panic, I’m not sure yet.

She licks her lips, her head hanging down in defeat. “Gone. I left them in the drawer last time we were here.”

Fuck. That means the ninety-eight percent effectiveness of the condoms Tara and I used was closer to zero percent. We used those sabotaged condoms. Fuck.

Don’t panic. Deal with Jessica first.

I look to Oscar and Rian and wave them over. They grab Jessica’s coat and throw it over her shoulders. They keep tight grip on her arms. “Call Keira, ask her to run a pregnancy test on Jessica.” Oscar nods. Then I turn my attention back to Jessica. “If you are with child and it is mine. You’ll have the best care until the child is born then you will never see either of us ever again.”

She gulps loudly. Her face flush with panic. “And if I’m not pregnant?”

I don’t answer her question. I just smile. A very non-friendly smile. “Get her out of my sight.”

They won’t hurt her. That’s not the type of men we are. Keira might slap her around, but nothing permanent. I didn’t give her any reassurances because fear is a great motivator. I still have questions for her. Still need to determine if Patrick had any influence on her actions. Once I have my answers, she will be escorted out of town, and given a warning not to return.

Callum pours the two of us a drink as Jessica is walked out. Silence fills the room.

I put the drink down on the coffee table. My hands ringing through my hair out of habit when I’m stressed.

“She’s really pregnant.” I state.

Callum nod. He doesn’t need to ask who. There is only one she I could be referring to. “She is.”

“It’s mine.”

“Most likely.” He confirms.

“You heard Jessica. She admitted to doing this before. To the condoms I used with Tara. Only Tara.” My gaze goes to the bed, where the evidence of Jessica’s betrayal still lay. “Tara and I fucked a lot that weekend.” My head hangs. I’m going to be a father, and I’ve already fucked up with their mom. “Too many times to count.”

“You liked her.”

“Yeah.” My mind replays the events of the day Tara came to tell me she was pregnant. I was such a dick to her. I basically threw her out while calling her a liar and a whore.

“Did, or do?” Questions Callum

Bile rose in my throat. “Do.” I stand. I can’t sit any longer. There is too much energy buzzing through my veins. “I haven’t stopped thinking about her.”

Callum raises a brow.

“She’s carrying my kid.” My heir. Not that I’m King of the Castle, but I have a seat at the table. Any boy I have will be expected to follow in my footsteps.

Made man by sixteen.

Sworn allegiance for life.

There is no walking away. No retiring from the life. Its one of the main reasons I decided long ago that I didn’t want kids. I witnessed my neighbor, a boy I wasn’t particular close with die shortly after his initiation. I stood at the grave while my parents comforted his parents.

That day changed me. I used it to motivate me, to double down on training. Vowing to never have to put my parents through that. Through burying their child.

“Fucking figures right?” I say with a laugh. “The first woman to fuck with my head ends up pregnant with my kid.”

I’m going to have a baby. Can I protect them? Can I raise them knowing I might someday have to say goodbye?

No parent should bury their child, but all too often in the mafia life it happens. Especially to the mothers.

I close my eyes. A vision of Tara older, with a little gray in her hair, but still looking sexy as shit, clutches my hand as a casket is lowered into the ground.

Shit.

Tara.

She doesn’t know how dangerous my life is. How dangerous her life now is. If Patrick finds out about her, I have no doubt he will try to grab her and use her.

“I need to find her.”

Callum shakes his head. “You know where to start?” I’m sure he’s internally chuckling at my panic.

“Fuck. No.”I admit in defeat.

I’m in for a long night.