Page 15 of Duncan (Irish Mob of Boston #1)

Duncan

“After running into Maxim last night, I wanted to make sure she was ok. Why was she with you?”

Cian rubbed the back of his neck. “She had a fight with Caity. About Henry.”

“What about Henry?”

“Caity wants her to fight for him.”

“Fuck!” I dug my fingers into my eyes. This shit was piling on left and right, and now Caity wanted to take on the Bloodletter. “What does Maddie want?”

If Maddie wanted her son, Sal would make sure she got him. Whatever it fucking took, but none of us wanted a fucking war.

“Maddie is adamant that he stays where he is.”

“Then tell Caity to back the fuck off.”

Cian laughed at me. Actually threw his head back and laughed. When I looked over at Mac to back me up, he had a smirk on his face and was shaking his head.

“You think Caity will listen to any of us? That’s her grandson. She wants to know him.”

“We all want to know him. But Maddie is his mom. It’s her decision. We don’t have to understand it; hell, we don’t even have to agree with it. But we will fuckin’ respect it. And that includes her mother. If you won’t talk to her, I will.”

“I’ll talk to her.” He sighed.

I straightened my overcoat and walked back toward the street. “Go home, both of you. The boys will find their way when they’re done.”

“What about you?”

“Sal gave me three days. And I plan to enjoy every fuckin’ minute of it.”

I hailed a cab. Climbing in, I went downtown to get lunch. I had nothing else to do today unless Liam or Aiden called, and while I thought about calling Freyja and getting her back underneath me, I wanted her to wait. Wanted her to miss me.

I pulled out my phone, texting her to let her know I would be back around six and I expected her to be there. Until then, I would see if there was anything redeeming about this city.

After lunch, I walked the streets of New York. A bookstore caught my eye, and I stepped inside to browse. There wasn’t much time for reading, but I enjoyed it when I had the opportunity.

Twenty minutes later, I made my way to the front of the store with books in my hands. The clerk offered to have my purchases delivered to my hotel, and I agreed. The front desk would sign for them and have them waiting in my room when I got back.

Sitting in a coffee shop, I watched out the window as people walked by. With a bit of Irish luck, I might glimpse Tyran and follow him.

Aiden called around four asking me to come back to the deli. I hoped he’d found something useful. The cab pulled up in front of the deli and I noticed the closed sign on the door.

I handed the cabbie some money, plus a hundred to wait with the meter off. If Aiden kept me too long, I would let him go, but I didn’t plan to be here for more than a few minutes.

I knocked on the door, my eyes watching the street while I waited for someone to open up. Conor quickly opened it, and as I passed, I heard him twist the lock back into place. I walked toward the back, and Aiden called out, “Hey, boss, I found something. Something you won’t like.”

Aiden sat behind the large desk but quickly stood as I made my way around. I didn’t sit, instead choosing to stand while he explained what I was looking at.

“Are these pictures?”

“Yea, but look who the pictures are of.”

Picking one up, I looked closely at the old black-and-white photograph. “Is that?” I brought the picture closer to my face. It couldn’t be more than a five-inch square and the two people didn’t fill the frame, but I recognized one of them right away.

Darcy?

Flipping it over, it had two names on it. Bridgit Mahoney and Charles Kennedy.

“Bridgit Mahoney?” I whispered out loud. She had changed her name to Gretchen Foster after King was born. Did she change it again? Is this why Cian hadn’t found her trail? “Who the fuck is Charles Kennedy?”

The man with his arm around my sister looked to be older than her by maybe twenty years. They couldn’t be together. He looked at the camera, but she was looking at him.

I’d only ever seen my sister look at one other person that way.

Braesal O’Malley.

“Is there a date?”

“None that I’ve found yet. Any idea where the picture was taken?” Aiden asked, but it didn’t look familiar.

Lannie said she’d gone to Ireland when she left Arkansas, but Cian hadn’t found the trail yet. There were too many Gretchen Fosters and none had made it to Ireland.

But if she’d changed her name a second time, maybe this would lead us to her. I had boxes of files from my brother’s office that still hadn’t been gone through. Now I had three names to look for.

“I want everything in here boxed up and taken back to Boston. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Pulling out my keys, I handed them to Aiden. “Put it all in my house. No one is to be told about this. Especially not Sal.”

Aiden was only in his forties, a few years older than my nephew. So, while he had never known Darcy, he knew the story of her disappearance. Everyone in the organization did.

With the revelation that Sal had a son, everyone knew she had left of her own free will. I wanted my sister to be alive more than anything. But I wasn’t sure how Sal would react if she was.

“You find anything about Tyran or Kelley?”

“Not yet.”

“Ok, tear this place apart. I want it down to the studs.”

“You got it, boss.”

Gathering up the photos, I tucked them inside my jacket pocket. I wanted to look through them more later. I also wouldn’t run the risk of them getting lost.

This was the first evidence I had found that my sister was still alive after King’s birth. Though where she was now was still anyone’s guess.

I made it back to the hotel just after six. As I rode the elevator up, my cock thickened at the thought of Freyja waiting for me. The vision of her naked body sprawled out on my bed had me adjusting myself into a more comfortable position.

Entering my suite, I found her standing in front of the windows. The same way she had the previous night. Staring into the semidarkness of Central Park.

The only real darkness found in New York City was at the end of a dirty alley. There was too much goddamn light here. But right now, as she stood in the light’s glow shining through the windows, I accepted that maybe New York wasn’t so bad.

After removing my overcoat and suit jacket, I loosened the tie at my neck. We both had too many clothes on, and I aimed to fix that immediately.

“You are not naked in my bed, mo bandia ,” I reprimanded.

“Are you looking to be punished again?” A smile spread across my face remembering how I edged her the night before.

How she growled and hissed her displeasure at my choice of punishment.

Until the moment I gave in and she screamed out in ecstasy.

When she turned around, my smile fell.

“What’s wrong?” I rushed to her side. My arms swallowed her up, pulling her tight against my chest.

“I can’t stay, Duncan.”

Grasping her arms, I leaned back. “Why?”

“I have a commitment—”

“In six weeks, you said. A fling was all you could offer.”

She turned her head, hiding her eyes from me. I grabbed her chin between my fingers and pulled her back to face me.

“If you’re refusing me, have the decency to do it to my face.”

“I am not refusing you, Duncan.”

“Really?” I stepped back, dropping my hands from her body. “I don’t see your naked body in my bed, which is where I asked you to be. If that isn’t a refusal, maybe I don’t understand the meaning of the word. Maybe a stupid Mick from Boston isn’t good enough for Freyja Malpas. Is that it?”

Turning away, I yanked my tie loose, pulling it from my neck. Next came the buttons on my shirt. The tiny fucking buttons tempted me to just rip it open. Letting them fly through the room to hide in the shadows of the corners.

Fuck it. I grabbed hold of the button plackets and ripped the shirt open. The plinking sound of buttons hitting the wall only fueled my irritation.

“Duncan, please let me explain.”

“No need to explain, Freyja. You can go,” I said as I stormed toward the bedroom.

The ruined shirt hit the floor in the corner, where it would stay until the cleaners came tomorrow.

Toeing off my shoes, I unbuckled my belt and pulled it through the loops, tossing it on the bed.

Next came my dress pants. I deftly unhooked the buttons and let them slide down my legs, stepping out in only my boxers and socks.

Freyja stood in the doorway watching me.

“Why are you still here? You made yourself clear.”

“You’re acting like a child.”

I stormed toward her, and she straightened. Holding her ground. Fuck, her courage made my dick hard. I wanted this woman more than I could explain, and it pissed me off that she was rejecting me.

“Are you going to stand there and tell me what we had wasn’t worth more?”

Where the hell did that come from?

“I don’t have the right to be angry that you’re walking away after one night? Are my feelings childish to you, Freyja?”

“Duncan.”

My hand went to her cheek. The back of my knuckles whispered against her skin. The soft sigh that slipped from her lips had me leaning in. “Stay,” I whispered, my lips caressing her cheek.

“I can’t.” She closed her eyes, blocking out the pleading I knew she saw in mine. “It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I growled, crowding her against the door, letting her feel how hard I was. I might have been angry, but I was still prepared to do everything I could to convince her to stay.

“There’s someone else.”

My hand dropped to her throat. Holding her neck in my grasp, I squeezed. Not enough to hurt her. I would never hurt this beautiful creature standing in front of me. But enough for her to feel the rage that was building inside me at her words.

Her eyes flared at the contact, but not in fear. No. Fire raged in her, too. She had no right to feel anger. She had made her choice. We stood toe to toe, neither of us speaking. My eyes locked with hers. My breath came in heavy pants as I tried to control my temper.

“Get. Out.”

With my hand still on her throat, I guided her out of the room and closed the door, turning the lock. Not giving her another thought, I walked to the bathroom. Slamming that door behind me, loud enough for her to hear.

Sal might not have been right. But his warning hadn’t been in vain. I should have listened. I hated this goddamn city and wouldn’t stay another night.

Turning on the water, I climbed in and let the frigid cold pour over me in hopes it would cool the burning rage that coursed through me. Once dressed, I left the bedroom expecting, almost hoping, she would still be here. That she would fight to explain herself.

The room was empty.

The same as my heart.