Page 11

11

Salem

Nina and Goldie meant well, and they cared about me. In the time I’d been held up in the MC compound, I’d not only gotten the man that I’d always loved back, but I had made real friends. It was ironic that one of the most terrifying moments in my life—being held at gunpoint—had been the cause of my being here. It had given me so much. Even if, now, my heart felt like it couldn’t take much more.

That being said, Nina and Goldie hovering over me, giving each other worried glances, and doing their best to be lighthearted to get my mind off of where Rome was right now had gotten weary. I’d decided I needed a walk outside to breathe. I’d only been in the backyard, but never walked around the entire gated-off area that surrounded the place.

Many of the bikes were gone, and I knew that the majority of the guys were working at one of their strip clubs. Micah and Dolly had stopped by earlier, but they’d left a couple of hours ago. I had waved goodbye to Nina as she drove down the road toward the exit. She had said earlier she was going to Strokes—the club her husband, Jars, managed—to take him dinner and help with some ordering for the bar.

I stopped by the small pond that had lovely flower gardens, which would be surprising, except Goldie had explained all the landscaping had been done by Liam’s wife. She’d stayed here for a couple of weeks while pregnant and started the project, then come back later after the baby was born to finish it. Liam brought her to visit, and she’d spend time on the flowers and plants while here. I hadn’t gotten the chance to meet her yet, but if Goldie and Nina liked her, I was sure I would too.

Forcing myself to inhale deeply and let it out slowly in hopes of lightening the weight sitting on my chest, I stood there and stared out at the water. Nothing helped. I’d done the right thing. That should make me feel better, but I didn’t think anything could really.

“Want to go for a ride?”

I turned at the sound of Lick’s voice to see him walking toward me. He was dressed in jeans, a black T-shirt that said Toxic on it, and his cut. I’d not seen much of him lately. He’d been my first friend here other than Pepper.

“Looks like you’re heading to Toxic Throttle for the night. I don’t think I’m up for more strippers,” I said, trying to smile.

His solemn expression didn’t mask the glint of distaste in his eyes. I wasn’t sure what that was for—me or the strippers.

“I can change my plans. There’re enough men at Toxic tonight.”

As nice as that was, I knew Rome would lose his mind if I left on the back of Lick’s bike. Lick knew it, too, but he didn’t care.

“It’s best I stay here,” I replied, not explaining why. He didn’t need me to spell it out for him.

Lick’s black combat boots crunched in the grass until he came to a stop beside me. “Yeah, well, the way I see it is, he’s with his baby momma at the doctor while you’re left here alone to just take it. Don’t seem right to me.”

I turned to look back at the water, not wanting Lick to read too much into my expressions. “It’s the right thing,” I assured him. “It’s his baby too.”

“He could give the bitch some cash and send her on her way. Fuck knows she’s not gonna be a headliner anymore onstage. Stretch marks and shit will mess up her body.”

I let out a laugh then, but it wasn’t a deep, full one. I couldn’t imagine how harshly my body would be judged if Nixie would be considered less than perfect once she gave birth.

“His dad walked out on him and his mom when he was a kid. He won’t do the same to his child.”

Lick snarled, “My pops beat the shit out of me and my mom before just not coming home one day. Never heard from him again. Don’t mean I’m gonna be some daddy to a stripper’s kid. Bitch was supposed to be on birth control. That’s a requirement for the dancers at our clubs. Condoms break. She was looking to get knocked up. Thought it would get Rome to make her his ole lady.” He shook his head and tapped a cigarette out of the container he’d pulled from his pocket, then stuck it between his teeth while he got his lighter. “Shit’s been done before,” he added, lit the cigarette, and took a long drag from it.

“Rome was raised to be responsible for his actions,” I told him, feeling the need to defend Rome even if Lick wasn’t actually attacking him.

Lick cut his eyes at me. “Was he raised to see a good thing when he had it and do all he could to fucking hold on to it? ’Cause the way I see it, he’s messing that up.”

I dropped my eyes back to the ground and turned back to face forward. “If you mean I’m the good thing, I’m not going anywhere.”

Neither of us spoke, and the sounds from the cars on the road nearby filled the silence.

When Lick cleared his throat, I jumped, startled.

“If he doesn’t treat you right, don’t go running off without letting me know first. Yeah?”

I glanced over at him. “I won’t run.” I’d just told him that I wasn’t going anywhere.

He smirked. “I heard you. But I also know things change. If they change, you let me know.”

This time, I did smile a little. Not because I liked having another man’s attention. It was just that everyone was so careful around Lick. As if he was someone you didn’t want to cross. But I didn’t see that at all. He’d always been so nice to me.

“Okay,” I agreed, not wanting to keep repeating the fact that I wouldn’t leave Rome unless he sent me away.

Lick winked at me and nodded his head back to the parking lot. “You sure you aren’t up for a ride? We can go to the beach.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. But thank you.”

He looked disappointed, but his smirk stayed in place. “All right. I’ll go to work then. You remember what I said.”

I nodded, but didn’t say anything more.

As he started to walk away, I turned my attention back to the pond. Worry started to creep in the more I thought of what Lick had said. Did he believe I’d leave because he thought Rome would develop feelings for Nixie? I hadn’t known what they were like together. It had ended almost right after I got here. My sending him alone with her to the doctor could stir up things he’d forgotten.

God, I had to stop thinking about this.

Rome loved me. If I was going to survive this, then I needed to believe that what we had was strong enough.

Sighing, I began walking again. The roar of Lick’s bike was followed by the rumble as he drove away behind me. Once it faded, the quiet returned, and then there was the faint sound of a familiar song. One I’d heard. I couldn’t place it. I walked toward where I thought it was coming from. As I got closer to the far-left corner of the property, the music became more distinct. It was an Irish song. I didn’t see anyone, but there was definitely music. That, or I was hallucinating.

I decided to go investigate.

It sounded as if it was coming from a storage shed in front of a thicket of trees. When I tried to open the door, it was locked. Listening closely, I realized it was coming from behind it. How odd. Maybe the fence was really close, and someone was on the other side, listening to a radio or something. That was probably it, but my curiosity had me continuing my search to see if I was correct.

The shadow from the building blocked the direct sunlight as I walked behind it.

“And again. Nothing here,” I mumbled to myself.

The music stopped.

Well, crap. I waited a minute to see if it started up again.

The crack of a limb came from behind me, and I jumped and started to turn to see who had followed me out here just as a hand went over my mouth and an arm locked around my body.

Startled immediately spun into fear as it dawned on me what was happening.

“Hello, sister. It’s long past time that we meet,” a thick Irish accent said close to my ear. “Yer a hard one to find. My little trackers were all over the fookin’ place. Damn shite city too,” he murmured.

I’d thought he had the wrong woman until he mentioned the trackers. The sister comment still made no sense. I didn’t have a brother, and if there was one I didn’t know about, he wouldn’t be Irish. And this man was definitely Irish. He wasn’t dirty. His hand didn’t smell bad. It smelled like a cigar. The same scent that Eamon often had on his hands after coming in from a business meeting where he’d had a cigar. I’d never liked it when he smoked them, but he had said, sometimes, he had to when offered one by someone he was doing a real estate deal with. Turning it down would be considered rude.

“Here’s what we’re going ta do,” the man said as he began walking me farther into the trees I’d been heading toward. “I’ll leave yer biker and his club alone if ye behave and do as I say. If not, then I’ll send my men after him, who’re currently situated outside the doctor’s office he went into over an hour ago.”

I sucked in air through my nose at his words. How did he know all this? Who was he? Why did he want me? The Landiagos weren’t Irish. This was someone different. I just couldn’t figure out who I was dealing with.

“And the few men inside that building right now aren’t a match for the men I’ve ready to go in and destroy the place, leaving no one alive. Not even yer redheaded friend.”

Goldie.

He knew she was inside. How had he even gotten past the security? There were cameras everywhere.

Panic was morphing into terror. If I tried to get free of him, then those I loved were in danger.

“Are you…are you with the Landiagos?” I asked him although it was muffled through his hand.

“Repeat that,” he said lifting his hand from my mouth by an inch at best.

“Are you with the Landiagos?”

His hand was back over my mouth before I had gotten the last word out completely as if he thought I was going to follow my question with a scream.

“Do I sound Latino to ye? No, but I had to kill the majority of the bastards. Whoever found yer trackers and planted them around the restaurant the Landiagos run their disorganized operation out of was rather creative. It took up more time than I wanted to spend here, and I’d like us to be far away by the time someone finds the slaughter I left behind,” he told me as if he were discussing something as casual as the weather.

“Right up ahead, there’s a ladder waitin’ on us, and we’ll be up and out. They didn’t make it easy on me. Gettin’ a rubber mat to go over the electrical spikes was a bit of a hassle. It’s not like ye can just buy those things anywhere. Do ye have any idea who ye were mixing up with? They have the feckin good ole boy Mafia at their disposal.” He sounded disappointed.

Who was this man, and how long had he been stalking me?

“Soon, we’ll be long gone and back on our merry way home,” he said with a lilt, as if this were a pleasant conversation between friends.

I didn’t want to go to his home. But if I screamed or did anything to get free, people I loved would be hurt…or worse. I wasn’t sure how deranged this man might be.

I racked my brain to think of an Irishman I’d met through Eamon who would want to do this. None though had seemed overly flirty or interested in me. Surely not to the point where they’d stalk me and then abduct me. And he’d called me sister. That was the oddest part.

We reached the fence line, and like he’d said, there was a ladder and a rubber mattress draped and tied down over the top. How had he known this would work? He had to be a seasoned criminal. One who smoked expensive cigars.

“Now, Salem, are ye going to remain quiet if I remove my hand from yer mouth? I don’t want to stir the pot here any more than I already have but if I have to kill people, I will. Starting with yer biker.”

Kill. He’d kill Rome.

I shook my head. I wouldn’t scream. I’d do whatever he said if it meant he would leave Rome alone. I’d brought this to their door. The man was here for me. Not them yet. If I didn’t obey, they’d all pay a horrible price for protecting me.

His hand fell from my mouth, but he kept his arm around my body. “Good. Didn’t want to have to keep a muzzle on ye. Now go on up first. When ye get to the top, Emmett, one of my fellas, will help ye over and onto the ladder on the other side.”

I hated ladders. Staring up at it, I swallowed hard, and my hands trembled. I was being abducted and forced to climb not just a ladder, but one that was ten feet tall. Gripping the cool metal, I took a steadying breath. I was doing this to protect Rome. There was no other choice. This man had killed the Landiagos. He would kill everyone inside the club if they tried to stop him.

Slowly, I placed my foot on the first rung and looked straight ahead. Not down. When the ladder shook slightly as the man behind me began to climb, I let out a whimper but continued on. If I fell to my death, that might be better than what this man had planned for me. I glanced down then and knew I couldn’t willingly fall. I’d get through this. Whatever it was. Turning my focus up, I reached where the rubber mattress padding began, and then a man leaned over from the other side.

He had black hair pulled back in a ponytail with strands too short to fit hanging loose. He reminded me of a pirate. Were they going to put me on a ship and take me somewhere to sell? I wasn’t exactly young. I didn’t think the monsters that did that sort of thing wanted women so close to forty.

There was also the possibility the man behind me had some weird psycho obsession with me, but he’d called me sister. He wouldn’t call someone that who he intended to rape…would he?

The pirate man, who I assumed was Emmett, held out his hand. I was going to have to let go of the ladder and trust this stranger to keep me from falling. Ten feet probably wouldn’t kill me. That was a tad dramatic, but it would injure me, and I could break my neck.

Stop thinking about it, Salem , I scolded myself.

“Go on now. We don’t want to be seen,” the man behind me said.

Reluctantly, I released the ladder with one of my hands and reached over to Emmett. His grip felt secure. He clearly didn’t want me to fall either. I gave him my other hand and stepped onto the very top, then slid over the mattress, and he held on to me while I turned around and got my foot safely onto the first rung. I saw a man at the bottom who didn’t appear to be a pirate, but looked Irish. He was even a ginger. I moved quicker this time, wanting to get it over with. I was almost at the bottom when the ladder shook from my captor getting on to it.

If there could be any relief in this situation, my feet hitting the grass was one. I stepped away from the ladder when the ginger man grabbed my arm firmly.

“This way,” he said with an even thicker lilt to his voice.

He led me out of the tree coverings and brush that blocked the sight of the gate from the road. A black Mercedes Sprinter van with no windows sat there with the back open and another man waiting beside it.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I wondered if the man who had taken me was also tall, muscular, and dressed in expensive-looking clothing. Because the three I had seen were in designer jeans that I recognized because they were the ones Eamon had always worn. Other than Emmett and his pirate hair, the others were clean-cut and well groomed.

When he stepped out of the shadow of the trees and I saw his face, I stumbled, and the man beside me had to catch me.

“Oh my God,” I gasped as I stared at him in a state of shock.

He flashed me an eerily familiar smile. “It’s uncanny, isn’t it?” he replied. “He was three years older, and yet we could’ve been twins.”

I shook my head. “I don’t…” I whispered, confused. “Who…” Words failed me as my heart raced wildly in my chest.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Brady,” he replied, “Murphy.” He said his last name with a smirk on his lips so different from the man he resembled. The man I’d lived with for fourteen years.

How did this man look almost identical to my husband? He’d called me sister, but Eamon was an only child.

“The younger brother.” He shrugged. “I was never the favorite child. That was reserved for Eamon, and it seems that even with him gone, it still is. Mother tolerates me, but ye’ve been forced to be around the woman. I much prefer Ireland, where she’s not.”

The man beside me budged me to get into the van, and I realized we’d kept walking and reached it. I climbed in and sank down onto the leather seat farthest away from the door. My mind was reeling and refusing to believe what I was hearing and seeing.

How could he be Eamon’s brother? Eamon hadn’t lied to me. He wouldn’t have not told me about having a brother.

I shook my head, not believing him.

He climbed in and took the seat across from me while the redheaded man took the one by the door. The two front doors opened, and Emmett climbed inside the driver’s seat while the other man took the passenger’s seat.

I was being taken by my husband’s doppelg?nger.

“Eamon was an only child,” I stated, but my voice sounded as uncertain as I felt.

He chuckled. “I can show ye my birth certificate if that would help,” he replied, leaning back in the seat, completely relaxed.

There were differences. This man had a scruffy, short beard, almost like he was shy of a couple of weeks of shaving. His eyes weren’t the same blue as Eamon’s although they were blue. I saw even more of Cormac in him.

It was hard to believe that my husband had lied to me about being an only child, but this man was too Murphy. He was too much like Eamon in similarities. The only possible reason for Eamon not to have talked about him would be that he and his parents had cut ties from him, and the only reason I could think of for them to cut their son and brother from their lives would be because he was…bad. A criminal.

“What…what did you do?” I asked him.

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Yer gonna need to be more specific. I’ve done many things.”

I swallowed and gripped my hands tightly in my lap. That was it. He was a bad man. His family didn’t have any contact with him. Was that why he had gone as far as putting tracking devices in my shoes, purses, and phone? Was that why he had taken me? Was he trying to get back at them? If so, he must not know his parents very well. Taking me was not going to affect them. I wasn’t someone Keira cared for.

“If you’re taking me because you want to lash out at your parents, it’s not—I mean, I’m not the person to take. Keira doesn’t even like me. She never did.” Hope that he’d let me go was starting to take root.

He smiled. “I’m well aware of my mother’s feelings toward ye. That’s not why I saved ye from the brutal fix you’d gotten yerself into. I did this for my brother. He’d asked me to watch over ye. I did. Ye got mixed up with a bad crowd. The CIA and DEA are hot on yer tail.” He shook his head and laughed. “A poxy place.”

CIA and DEA? What was he talking about? Did he have some affliction? Had he gotten a head injury at some point and gone off the rails?

I had to think of a way to talk him into taking me back to the club. Back to Rome.

If he had some strange hallucinations or something, I couldn’t call him out on it. He’d get defensive or possibly violent.

“Ye were easier to keep track of in Boston. Why ye had to move to a city with a port like Miami…” He winced. “It’d be a gas if it wasn’t ironic.”

Nothing he said made sense.

“I thought Eamon told ye to go find the boy from yer past,” he said. “Ye should’ve done that. Not this biker tool ye ended up with.”

I paled. How did he know that?

He studied me for a minute, then seemed amused. “Believe me now?” he asked. “I know all about it. Eamon lived in a state of constant jealousy over ‘im. And ye didn’t even go find ‘im.”

For him to know that, then he hadn’t been estranged from his brother. Eamon had kept in contact with him. Told him private things. Yet I’d never known he existed.

“Why didn’t he tell me about you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

I needed something to make sense to me. It felt like everything I knew was being snatched away from me, one piece at a time.

He stretched out his arm on the back of the seat and rested his left ankle on his right knee with a heavy sigh. “Because he didn’t trust ye to stay with him if ye knew our family secret,” he replied. “He always believed ye couldn’t handle it. And there was never a man more obsessed with a woman than my brother was with ye.” He cut his eyes at me then. “I never understood it. Not that yer not a stunner because ye are. But there are stunners all over the world. Why just one? Why not savor all the different flavors and never get bored?” His eyes gleamed wickedly when he laughed this time. “Not my brother. No. Once he got a taste of ye, that was it. No one else.” He shook his head, as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Even in death, he has me watching over ye. He was so sure ye would go to the other guy.” He looked back at me again. “Is he dead? Is that it? The man ye loved died, and ye never got over him?”

I sat there, my mind racing through every moment, conversation, anything that could have been a clue that Eamon wasn’t telling me the truth about something. His family had seemed so normal. Elitist, but otherwise normal. I realized he was waiting on me to answer, and I started to lie and tell him that, yes, he was dead, but I feared that, at the moment, I’d be an even worse liar than I already was.

“No,” I said simply.

Rome was very much alive, and I’d go and do whatever I had to do in order to keep it that way.

“What does your family do that I don’t know?” I asked, afraid of what Eamon had kept from me.

“We’ll get to that, but first, let’s talk about this man ye love. I want to know why ye didn’t go find him. It would have left me with less responsibility. Ye went and got mixed up with people that made ye…well, let’s just say ye weren’t on the CIA’s or DEA’s radar until now. And although ye don’t realize it, if they asked ye the right questions, ye might give them answers that they can’t know. Ye left me with no choice but to come take ye back to the homeland.”

Homeland. Did he mean Ireland when he said he was taking me home? Oh God. I was leaving the country? Rome would never know what happened to me. He’d think I ran away. That I didn’t love him enough to stay. The thought of not seeing him again sent a wave of agony through me.

“It’s fine. I got ye, and they won’t find ye,” I heard him say, but I wasn’t following his conversation anymore.

The ache I’d thought couldn’t be worse when I found out that another woman was going to have Rome’s child had been nothing compared to this. I’d go back and suffer through that any day if it meant I had Rome.

“That’s not it,” he mused. “Wait… did ye go to the other man? Please don’t tell me the man ye held on to all those years is the biker. Come on, Salem. A biker over Eamon Murphy? Jesus, Mary, ye don’t even know who ye were married to.” He ran his hand over his face with a groan. As if I’d done something incredibly stupid.

“The wife of Rí, the object of his obsession. He worshipped nothing and no one but ye, and ye couldn’t love him the way he craved because of a feckin’ biker?” He dropped his hand. “The man wears rings. Did ye see that? Of course ye did.”

Who was he talking about now? He changed topics worse than Marlana had.

“Who is Rí?”

He looked annoyed, but not necessarily at me. I wasn’t sure at what though.

“Eamon. He was known as Rí.”

I opened my mouth to ask if that was a nickname he called him when he looked straight ahead out the front windshield and appeared relieved.

“Ah, we’re here. Good. Let’s get out of this feckin’ country,” he said enthusiastically.

The ginger man opened the door and stepped out, then waited for us to follow.

I stared out the open door at the jet that sat on the runway we’d driven up on. It appeared to be a private plane.

Brady waved his hand for me to get out and looked impatient. “Come on, Salem. We don’t have all day. This is the last place either of us needs to be.”

Getting out of the car, I tried to think of anything that would stop him from making me get on that plane.

“I don’t have my passport.” I blurted out the first thing I’d thought of.

I didn’t even have my driver’s license.

Brady let out a cackle of laughter. “Neither do I,” he called out as if that was hilarious. “She don’t have ‘er passport,” he told the other men, even though I knew they had heard me.

They all were grinning. Why was that so funny? There had to be some border patrol at whatever airport we landed in. I didn’t know a lot about international travel, but I knew that much.

“Come on, sister. Let me introduce ye to the world of Murphy luxury and power,” he said with a bright smile that reminded me of Eamon when he had been happy.

I had known the Murphys were wealthy, but I hadn’t known they were private-jet wealthy. Eamon had worked hard at his job. We’d not been given a dime from his parents. But Brady—the brother I hadn’t known existed—was in a private jet?

Was all this really happening? Had I fallen asleep? I didn’t remember lying down.

Brady held out a hand for me to go first on the steps to the plane. Having no choice, I made my way up with him falling into step behind me. When I reached the entrance, I froze. Cream-colored leather sofas, a full bar with a man standing in attendance behind it, and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A blonde woman with a formfitting black suit coat and skirt was setting down a tiered tray of snacks on the largest table.

Holy shit.

I stiffened as Brady came up close enough behind me that I could feel the heat from his body.

“Eamon designed it himself,” he said. “One of the things I loved about my brother: he enjoyed luxurious things.”

I was in an alternate universe, or I’d hit my head and fallen off the ladder after all. Maybe I couldn’t take it anymore, so I snapped. I was hallucinating.

“How could he afford this?” I asked, my voice a hoarse whisper.

“’Tis our family business, sister,” he said softly. “We supply Europe’s addicts with the very best.”