Page 11

11

CONOR

PRESENT DAY

Forty-eight hours later, after I staggered out of the car, I hovered in place on the sidewalk as it immediately took off.

Denny was back on the door and he called out, “You okay there, Mr. O’Donnelly, sir?”

I squinted at him. “Thanks, Denny. Could you get me a cab?”

His smile was hesitant. “Sure thing, sir.”

I cringed at the title.

“It’s Conor. Remember?” I mumbled. “Sorry about the other night.”

“That’s fine, Mr. Conor. Did you watch the game yesterday?”

My lips twisted. “Nah. Did the Rangers win?”

“The Islanders skated circles around them and shut them out.”

“Good, good.”

His eyes flared. “Everything all right, Mr. Conor? You usually love the Rangers—” Before I had to answer, a cab rolled up in front of me. “Where do you want to go?”

I blinked at him, uncertain of where I wanted to be, just aware that I needed not to be at home.

That was why I blurted out Aoife and Finn’s address. It felt like a second home in the city, and I needed not to be alone right now.

Head ringing, I sat down heavily in the backseat and waved farewell to Denny as the driver got me away from my building.

As he wended us through the horrific traffic, I accepted that a part of my mind was still functioning. Aoife and Finn’s place was where I needed to be, but I sure as fuck didn’t want Temper Black rolling me up to their brownstone.

Sure, she could have found their address easily, but I wasn’t about to hand over catnip to a lion.

In our Brothers we trust .

Just a nonsense saying, I’d thought at first.

As someone who lived his life by that creed, I’d almost relaxed when she’d uttered those words. Who else did I trust apart from my brothers and sisters-in-law, after all?

But she wasn’t talking about regular brothers .

About blood.

She was talking about the United fucking Brotherhood.

I rubbed my forehead, not even wincing when I dragged my fingertips over the area that was busted from Maverick’s knuckles. If anything, it just merged with the pain that had taken residence in my skull since Temper had drawn me into a plot .

And I wasn’t talking about a fictional device, either.

This was a good, old-fashioned plot.

We pulled up outside the brownstone before I could start to feel sick again. I was a mischievous man by nature, but the last forty-eight hours had rattled me as little else could.

I’d learned long ago never to fuck with the government and that alphabet agencies required cautionary handling. Last night, I’d set fire to both those rules and hadn’t even bothered to piss on the blaze I’d started.

At this very moment, I could be an enemy of the state and I wouldn’t even know until Homeland Security came knocking on my door.

But worse than all that?

Star was close with someone in a group she’d spoken to me about.

And now I was in cahoots with them.

Cahoots .

Was it any wonder I was nauseated?

I was in the middle of a conspiracy, for fuck’s sake.

Almost falling out of the cab after I paid my fare, I tumbled into Inessa, who, like a house of cards, knocked into her baby sister. Somehow, Eoghan caught both of them and propped them upright.

“Watch where you’re fucking going, Kid!” he sniped before turning to Inessa and demanding, “Did he hurt you?”

Her laughter was soft. “He just surprised me. You’re okay too, aren’t you, Vicky?”

Victoria eyed me. “I’m fine but Conor doesn’t look fine. Are you hungover?”

I found myself at the center of the trio’s attention which, fuck my life, meant… “Is it Saturday?”

Eoghan peered at me. “Jesus, you really are hungover.”

“I’m not hungover,” I snapped. “I’ve just lost track of my days.”

Inessa, kindly, informed me, “Yes, Conor, it’s Saturday. Do you remember that Aoife wanted us to come over for lunch today and not dinner?”

I didn’t remember that.

“Why?” I queried, brow puckered.

Eoghan grumbled, “Does it matter? Can we get inside? Inessa’s freezing.”

“I’m not, Eoghan,” she chided.

“You are.”

“Can we go in before they start doing this again?” Victoria groaned at me.

“Doing what?”

She huffed. “Inessa thinks she might be pregnant and Eoghan is treating her like she needs to be wrapped in cotton and both of them think they’re hiding this from me when they’re totally not.”

Eoghan’s and Inessa’s expressions would have been hilarious if it weren’t for the meltdown that was taking place in my brain.

As they gaped at her, I blurted out a laugh and started dragging Victoria with me up the stairs to the house.

The door opened before we could knock and Aoife was there.

Finn had been a wise man marrying her.

She was a haven, not a…

Fuck, whatever Star was.

And that definitely wasn’t a haven.

A headache, yes. A heart attack in the making, sure .

“Aoife,” I pleaded. “I need a whiskey.”

She arched a brow at me. “Fighting fire with fire?”

“No. I’m not drunk.” I would be soon, though, if I had my way.

Recognizing that I was being scanned again, I almost turned on my heel and got the hell out of there. I’d expected Aoife to be alone, the house empty apart from Jake as Finn should have been at the office. Instead, my whole fucking family was about to convene at the brownstone.

Ordinarily, it’d be a hoot.

Today, it was a nightmare.

Aoife grabbed my arm as if she knew I was on the brink of running off, and she dragged me over the threshold. “Head into the kitchen, girls. Eoghan, Finn’s in his man cave.” To me, she ordered, “Come with me.”

I didn’t argue because she was taking me away from the mass of humanity that was the O’Donnelly clan in full force. The only people missing were my mother and Uncle Paddy, for fuck’s sake. I couldn’t have gone anywhere worse for some quiet time.

When she guided me into a living room I hadn’t been in before, I frowned. “Where are we?”

“Existentially or within the house?” was her droll retort.

“Within the house,” I groused.

“It’s a guest suite.”

“A guest what?”

“For guests to stay in.” She studied me. “You’re not looking well, Con. I think you should get some rest.”

“I’m not hungover,” I repeated.

“No, you don’t stink of booze. But you look like you’re coming off a bender all the same. When was the last time you caught some sleep?” she queried, turning to me. Then, her nose crinkled. “When did you last shower?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

And I didn’t.

I just remembered the open space of a field, a shipping container, and a man screaming for his life as he was shoved into the container and then locked inside with packs of MREs and stacks of bottled water.

Then, from out of nowhere, she’d pistol-whipped me and I’d found myself waking up in a jet on a return flight to New York.

Apparently, saying ‘goodbye’ was too much hard work for Temperance goddamn Black.

When I realized Aoife had been saying my name over and over again, I apologized, “Sorry, Aoife. I’m out of it.”

“Conor,” she said, her tone careful. “You can talk to me, you know?”

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“About whatever trouble you’re in?”

“I’m not fifteen and dabbling in coke, Aoife,” I groused tiredly, tugging away from her hold and scrubbing both hands over my face.

“That wound on your head needs cleaning,” she stated. “How did you even get that?”

Hitching a shoulder, I mumbled, “I’ll do it later.”

“I’ll do it now or it’ll never get done.”

As she grabbed my arm and dragged me into the bathroom, I asked, “Do you manhandle Finn like this?”

“Only when he’s being a pain.”

“So, all the time then?”

Her lips twitched. “Not all the time. Sometimes, he’s very… good.”

I groaned. “I don’t need to be thinking about you two fucking.”

“Who said I was talking about sex?” she scoffed, surprising me by not being flustered.

“That smile said everything,” I grumbled as she dragged me to the vanity and propped me against it.

A couple of moments later and thoroughly armed with a first-aid kit, she started cleaning me up after tugging me into a slouched position so she could reach me without having to strain.

As she worked, she stayed quiet, but I knew her brain was ticking. Why wouldn’t it be? I was acting out of character. I knew I was.

Maybe that was why I blurted out, “Did you hear about Prince Edward of Midlothian’s death?”

She paused in her ministrations. “I did. It was late last year, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Were you grieving him or something?”

I got her inference and had to roll my eyes even though they were so dry they scraped against the lids.

“Firstly, I’m not high. I told you that already. Secondly, I’m Irish. We hate the royal family.”

“You’re about as Irish as this iodine. You O’Donnellys,” she said with a chuckle. “What did you bring him up for then?”

Why had I?

“Do you know who the United Brotherhood are?”

“Is that the bank on Columbus and West 67th?”

I genuinely didn’t know how to answer that. “I don’t think so.”

Unless that was their front.

The NSA did shit like that all the time.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I shouldn’t?—”

“Shouldn’t, what? Tell me anything? Trust me, I’m completely in the dark,” she teased. “What do a prince and a bank have to do with anything?”

“Sounds like the punch line to a bad joke,” Finn mocked.

I cast a glance at the doorway and found him standing there, one arm against the jamb as he studied us both.

“What happened to your head, Kid?”

I hated that tone of voice. “I’m not nine, Finn.”

“You look like you are. I remember that time you came back busted up from fighting with Mark Benedict. Your ma went—” He tensed. Paused.

Aoife heaved an impatient sigh. “You can mention her, Finn. She exists. I’m not unaware of that fact.”

“You know I don’t like to upset you.”

“Then don’t freeze up when you mention her name. I know Hitler existed and you can say his name without me bursting into tears.”

“There’s a difference?—”

“Yes, there is, but you freaking out when you mention her is more annoying than upsetting. So finish your sentence.”

She ended that with a glower that had me remarking, “I’d do as she says, Finn. She could freeze your balls off with that glare.”

Aoife chuckled, and Finn grumpily continued, “Your ma went apeshit over you getting into fights.”

“She would, wouldn’t she? Her good, pure boy suddenly fighting.” I let out a bitter laugh. “She had no idea.”

Aoife frowned but Finn inserted, “Aoife, leave the grouch with me. I’ll get him into bed.”

“You’re not my type, deartháir ,” I mocked, earning a swat from Aoife on the shoulder and a grumble from Finn as he ambled over and hauled me out of the bathroom as if I were inebriated.

“What’s wrong with you?” he sniped in my ear.

“Conor, do you want me to call you when lunch is ready?” Aoife asked, not realizing her husband was whisper-bitching at me. “I made your favorite.”

That had me shooting her a loved-up look. The quick movement of my head whipping around had the blood rushing to it as I garbled, “Roasted duck with orange sauce?”

“Yep.”

“Consider yourself lucky that someone already smacked your head around or I’d do it for staring at her like that.”

Snorting, I leaned more heavily on him as I muttered, “I think I need to crash. Can I eat the leftovers?”

“Of course,” she reassured me, but her tone was worried. “I’ll set aside a plate for you.”

When Finn dumped me on the bed, I half-expected him to go with her, but the pair of them whispered at each other like I was five before she left and he returned to my side.

He dropped down to the other half of the bed, kicked up his heels as he settled back against a pillow, then demanded, “Come on then, talk. Who is it? That Star chick?”

That was when I knew I’d entered a parallel universe.

I started sputtering, but all I could get out was, “You think I have woman troubles?”

“Don’t you?”

“No, for fuck’s sake.”

“I thought she went missing.”

“She did.”

“Isn’t that woman troubles?”

“She didn’t run out on me.”

That was neither the whole truth nor a lie.

Savannah had told me that she thought the only reason Star would pull away from me was because she’d gotten herself embroiled in Da’s death.

That wasn’t the same as running out though. At least not in my opinion. And, admittedly, I did tend to cut the witch a lot of slack.

“What’s the problem then?”

I flopped onto my back and immediately regretted it when my head pounded. Jesus, did I have a concussion? That fucking Temperance.

“If I told you,” I clipped, “you wouldn’t believe me.”

Finn chuckled. “Conor, you’re you. I’d believe you just because the shit that happens to you happens to no one else on the planet.”

“That’s… fair,” I admitted with a yawn.

“You should get some sleep,” he said irritably. “We can talk later. If the house is empty when you wake up, it’s because we’ve gone out.”

I rubbed my eyes again. “Funnily enough, Finn, I think I’d have managed to deduce that by myself.”

“Sarcastic ass.”

“You know it.”

He made to stand, but as his weight dispersed, shifting the mattress, Finn paused. “I heard you mention the United Brotherhood to Aoife.”

My eyes popped open. “You overheard that?”

“Yes. Don’t bring it up with her again. We can talk about it later?—”

Jerking upright, I demanded, “You know who they are?”

“Of course. Anyone involved in banking does.”

I heaved an annoyed breath. “This isn’t?—”

“The bank is a front,” he dismissed. “A very powerful front.”

“I’ve never heard of a bank called that.”

Hell, after Star had first mentioned the United Brotherhood, I’d searched for it on Google. Nothing had come up. Nothing. Certainly no mentions of a fucking bank in Manhattan.

“They’re investment bankers. Very niche. We don’t come into contact with them as Five Pointers, and as vast as your knowledge base is, Conor, you have to admit that you can cut out things you’re not interested in.”

I had to concede that point. “Why bother to retain something that isn’t important?”

“How do you decide which knowledge is or isn’t important at a given time in the future? It’s important now, isn’t it?”

Another point I had to concede. “Have they approached you?”

“In the early days. Before my association with the O’Donnellys became more known.”

“They didn’t realize you were Irish Mob?”

“No. After I moved in, your… I mean, Da kept my profile low. Do you remember?”

“I do,” I confirmed. "You worked your way up but it was on the down-low, wasn’t it? Out of sight, out of mind.”

Finn nodded. “He kept me busy with the bookies, only letting me get my hands dirty when he was around, and no one said dick about what happened if he was there.

“My affiliation with the Five Points was undesirable once the United Brotherhood figured out who I was.”

“Why?”

“They’re pious.”

“Pious?” I repeated. “They go to church?”

Finn snorted. “Doubtful. I just mean they consider themselves white hats.”

That doubled the ache in my head—I was sure my ears were ringing. In my world, I was considered a white hat—I went in and found security flaws.

Blowing out a breath, I rumbled, “Didn’t Da believe he wore a white hat?”

“I doubt it. I think Da was many things, but I don’t think he’d consider himself as pure as the driven snow.”

My hand balled into a fist. “Did you… When they approached you, what did they want?”

“It’s like the Freemasons. You scratch my back, I scratch yours.”

That made me think of Star. “ Quid pro quo .”

He hummed. “They’re harmless, but they’re everywhere in the world of investment banking. It’s a shame they realized my affiliation. Would have been a great networking opportunity.”

“If they’re such good guys, why don’t you want Aoife to know about them?”

“Because when you mentioned them, you looked like you could puke. Just because they wore white hats in the past doesn’t mean they do now. Aoife’s been through enough these past twelve months. I don’t want to add to her burden.

“You need to talk about whatever is going on, you talk to me. No judgment, no shit, no griping. I’m your brother, Conor. I can help. Now, get some rest.”

I wanted, desperately, to ask him some more questions, but the pull of sleep came at me with the force of Temperance. As he closed the door, my eyelids were already shut and, did I but know it, the nightmares were already beginning to load…