Page 4

I thought that how I was obsessing over Rian was a sign that I needed to get laid.

It had been months. Not having anyone in my life, I went to a bar to pick someone up a week after meeting him.

I made it to the chatting stage with a man.

He was attractive, fun to talk to, and didn’t make me want to die of boredom.

The guy was more than interested, but when it was time to close the deal, I found I couldn’t do it.

He wasn’t who I wanted. Suffice it to say, he was upset when he didn’t leave with me that night.

I kept having the most erotic dreams about Rian and me. They would wake me up, and I’d have to take care of myself to get back to sleep. They often repeated themselves, and I’d wake up multiple times a night.

We’d gone twice to assist in bringing down more people involved in the selling of those poor girls and women.

I’d enjoyed being able to bring those sick sons of bitches to justice.

Both times, the Hounds of Justice and a few O’Sheeran men did the deed.

I was thrilled when Rian happened to be one of them both times.

However, seeing him only worsened it instead of helping me get over him.

I didn’t know what it was about him that captivated me.

Sure, he was very handsome, but I’d often been around attractive men.

Most of my lovers and boyfriends hadn’t been anything to sneeze at in the looks department.

I wouldn’t even say Rian was the most handsome of them.

He didn’t have a pretty face. It was masculine and arresting.

His face was chiseled, with a defined jawline.

His nose was striking and fit his lightly tanned face.

Bold eyebrows sat over his intense eyes.

At first, I thought they were black until I got close to him, and then I noted they were a dark navy blue.

Rian got three lines between his eyebrows when he concentrated or was worried.

He had a sparse goatee that framed his lips.

The upper lip was thinner than the bottom, but that mouth made me want to kiss him and suck that lower one into my mouth and bite it.

His medium brown hair was thick, longer on top, and very short on the sides, where it was silver.

It gave him a distinguished look, along with the flecks of silver in his goatee.

I’d guess his age to be in his late thirties or early forties based on the silver, though some men go gray at a much younger age.

His maturity made me believe he was in that age range.

Rian was tall, which I liked in a man. I was taller for a woman at five feet eight, while he was six feet three or four inches tall.

His build was athletic. I had no doubts he had muscles, but they weren’t bulky.

Some of his cousins and brothers were noticeably more muscular.

He made me wonder if he was a runner like me.

My musings ended as we pulled into the police station’s parking lot entrance.

The building was a beige stucco structure, not the Spanish style of the old historic jail or other buildings around town.

You could tour the old jail. I’d done it once and found it fascinating.

The cops were expecting us. It was called in that we were apprehending Larsen per protocol.

I heard Rardo say that while driving here.

In Florida, as limited surety agents, which was what they called bounty hunters, we were required to let the police know when we were about to apprehend a bail jumper.

We got out of the SUV. When Rardo tried to get Larsen out of the backseat, he fought him. Did he truly believe it would work? I crawled in on his other side and got in his face.

“Listen, you dumbass. You’re coming out one way or another. If you want it to get rough, it will. No matter what, you’re being processed and sent back to St. John County jail. And you won’t get out until your hearing, if then. You blew it.”

“You have no right to call me a dumbass,” he snapped.

“Yes, I do. You’re one because you jumped bail and didn’t show up for your hearing. You cost your sister her house! How could you do that to her? She stood by you and put her home on the line for you,” I hissed. Thinking about it pissed me off.

“Whatever. She can buy another one,” he said dismissively.

Glancing to be sure no one was close, I shut the door. Our dark windows prevented cameras outside from seeing inside, and we didn’t wear body cams like the police. Rardo had Larsen’s seat belt off and blocked any view through his open door with his body.

I reached behind Larsen’s back and found his hands.

I got a hold of his pinkie and ring fingers, and I twisted those damn things at an angle.

He cried out in pain. The leg he had planted against the doorframe, holding himself from being pulled out of the car by my brother, came down.

As Rardo tugged on him, I shoved him from behind until he was out.

Then, I slid across the seat and got out, slamming the door closed.

“That was assault. You can’t do that. I think you broke my fingers, bitch,” Larsen snarled.

“Sir, all I did was help you turn so you could get out of the car. You seemed to be having trouble. If your fingers hurt, it’s probably because you broke your fall onto the sidewalk with your hands when I apprehended you,” I said sweetly.

My brother snickered under his breath but kept a straight face.

Papà merely shook his head and kept walking.

He knew me. Several pairs of eyes landed on us as we entered the building.

We weren’t strangers here, though we weren’t here all the time, not until recently.

Our homes and office were in Hastings, about twenty miles from St. Augustine.

Hastings sat slightly further from the water than they did. I secretly liked St. Augustine better.

It didn’t take us long to get some help, and we were able to turn Larsen over to them.

Our paperwork was signed, showing that we had apprehended the fugitive.

If there had been a reward for his capture, we would have shown the paperwork to file for the money.

However, he had only skipped four days ago.

He thought no one would find him by leaving Hastings and coming here.

Too bad for him. I had sleuthing skills and figured out where he went.

The St. Augustine police would work out jurisdiction with Hastings.

We’d completed our job. It was time to head back home to the office.

Luc and Roc were out on another case. We’d all meet there to discuss our days unless we got a call from one of them asking for our assistance.

Walking outside, I soaked up the sun, which was peeking out today.

It was the beginning of January, and while it was cooler than most times of the year, it was still sixty degrees.

Most of the time, it was from the mid-fifties to mid-sixties at this time of year.

It was warm enough that I hadn’t bothered with long sleeves or a jacket.

Papà and my brother were dressed the same.

As we left the town limits, I experienced a vast letdown feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I hadn’t seen him. You need to stop this shit, Gia.

Rian O’Sheeran isn’t for you. He’ll never be yours.

Get over him and find someone else. If you’re acting this way about a man, maybe you should consider finding one you can settle down with rather than just have fun with.

Those thoughts kept running through my mind the entire drive back.

When we arrived, I was determined. I would forget Rian and find a man.

???

The workday was over. We’d all gone to Papà’s house.

I offered to make dinner for everyone, and he had the largest kitchen.

The rest of us lived in apartments. Papà would’ve been happy to have us all live in the family home with him, but we were adults.

We needed our space, as much as I loved him.

Plus, growing up with four men had been a nightmare for me.

They didn’t clean the way I did, and what drove me crazy and I thought of as dirty or messy was what they called lived-in and comfortable.

When possible, we had dinner together as a family a couple of times a week.

We didn’t always go to the family home. Sometimes, we went to a favorite restaurant.

I’d done some baking beforehand in preparation for this week’s first meal, and I was glad I had.

Tonight’s menu included a caprese salad, my spinach and mushroom lasagna with ricotta cheese, ciabatta bread, and a cherry and dark chocolate crostata for dessert. They were the favorites of all of us.

Cooking and baking relaxed me. I could immerse myself in the recipes and work, which made me forget about stressors.

It had been that way since I was small. Being the youngest, I was only three years old when Mamma died.

She’d suffered a ruptured appendix, and being home alone with us kids while Papà was working, she decided to wait despite the pain.

By the time she made it to the hospital, it was too late.

It devastated the family, especially Papà.

I think he still blamed himself for her death twenty-five years later.

He’d been in the early days of establishing DeSantis Bounty & Bonds, and he spent long hours working to make it a success, all while caring for his family.

I didn’t remember Mamma other than a soft voice and a cloud of dark hair.

My brothers recalled her more. From that point onward, we were looked after by one older woman, Pia, whom Papà trusted—a neighbor and friend of Mamma’s.

She helped during his working hours only.

When he was off work, he took care of us alone.

She was the one who taught me how to bake and cook.

The boys knew enough not to starve, but they didn’t love it like I did.

My other teacher was Papà. He was a fantastic cook.

As we got older, we stayed with him at the office when we were not in school or participating in extracurricular activities like martial arts.

If he had to leave, his office staff kept an eye on us.

He was paranoid about always knowing where his family was and that he would be alerted immediately if something happened or changed with us.

Being constantly around the business, we learned many things before we were adults.

Not all of it was child-appropriate, but Papà believed in raising us to be realists.

It was no wonder that, as each of my brothers became adults, they joined the family business.

Papà never pushed them to do it, but he was proud when they chose to help.

When I came of age, although they raised me to know the same things and have the same skills as they did, it still surprised them a little that I wanted to work in the business, too.

Unlike my brothers, I did it part-time while in college.

Eventually, they got over their shock and protectiveness, for the most part.

I was equal with them, which I loved and needed.

As soon as I graduated, I joined the business full-time.

Dinner had been an enormous success. There were a lot of compliments and groans. Everyone had pitched in to help with getting the table set, so it didn’t all fall on me. We sat around the table, enjoying a glass of wine after dessert. I was relatively relaxed. Or I was until Papà spoke.

“I got a call today,” he started. He paused, making sure he had all our attention. Once he did, he continued.

“It was from Darragh O’Sheeran. He asked for a meeting with us. He didn’t go into detail about what it pertained to. He said he thought we’d find it interesting. I understand his caution in not saying anything else over the phone.”

This time, when he paused, there were questions.

“When does he want to meet?” Luc asked.

“He didn’t give you a hint?” Roc asked.

“It has to do with the recovery efforts,” Rardo stated.

Finding their eyes on me, I scrambled to say something. “Where are we to meet? Who else will be there?” My heart pounded at the thought of seeing Rian at this meeting, even though I shouldn’t want it. I’d decided to forget him. If he were there, my resolve would weaken.

“No, he gave no other hint. As for when and where? We’ve been invited to come to their family compound, where we went before. They want us there this coming Saturday. Darragh said noon would be good, and we should expect to stay for a while,” Papà added.

I knew I had to find a way out of this without raising suspicion in my family. If they suspected I was avoiding it on purpose, they’d hound me until I confessed why. They could be relentless.

I cleared my throat and pasted a disappointed look on my face.

“That sounds intriguing and possibly fun. I hate to miss it, but I can’t go.

I’m sorry. This Saturday is the only time to do the last-minute prep for Aurora’s baby shower.

We’re having it the following weekend. She’s overwhelmed, and no one in her family helps.

You know that. I’m her best friend and godmother to the baby. I can’t abandon her.”

It wasn’t a total lie. Everything I said was true, except that there was still stuff to do. We’d already gotten it all in place, and I was ready to decorate and attend the party next weekend. I held my breath to see if they’d accept it.

There was good-natured grumbling from my brothers. Papà didn’t say anything. He studied me. I was about to pass out when he nodded his head.

“You can’t abandon Aurora. She needs all the support she can get. I’ll let Darragh know you’re unavailable due to a prior obligation, but we will be there. We’ll fill you in on what he says.”

Relief filled me. I smiled. “That sounds perfect. I hate to miss it, but I know you’ll be more than enough for them.”

The conversation turned to speculation about what Daragh wanted to speak about. I let it flow around me, listening with half an ear in case they asked me something. The rest of my brain was thinking about Rian. I’d made the right decision.