Page 14

14

Salem

I said very little as I listened to Brady talk about his family and their business. The flight attendant offered me every drink imaginable and kept coming out with new things to eat. But I had no appetite. I finally agreed to water in order to make her leave me alone.

All the business trips that Eamon had taken to Ireland over the years to handle his family’s real estate firm, it hadn’t been for real estate. He’d been smuggling drugs into Ireland from Morocco on luxury liners. Hash and cocaine, to be exact.

My husband had been the Irish drug cartel.

How had I lived with him for fourteen years and never once suspected anything? Was I that naive? God, why hadn’t I seen something?

I ran through things in my head that I might have missed, but nothing seemed like an overlooked red flag. We’d had a good marriage. I’d thought we were normal.

“The real estate firm in Boston is real. I’ve been there. I’ve gone to galas it hosted,” I said, not able to fit what I was being told into our life.

Brady nodded. “Yes, it’s very real. Murphy International Realty handles the selling of high-end commercial real estate to those who need a location to funnel their money through. Just like we use the realty firm to funnel our profits through.”

I held up a hand to stop him. “Wait. You’re telling me that its purpose is sell real estate to drug dealers?”

He threw back his head and laughed. Nothing about this was funny. I wished he’d stop being so freaking jolly.

“They’re a bit more grand than drug dealers, Salem. They’re the buyers who then distribute to the drug dealers and they need a business to launder the money through.” He pointed at himself. “We are the top of the food chain. We’ve had a few test runs in the States, and they went well, except the feckin’ CIA has connected some strains of hash as being the same as what we supply in Europe. They’ve heard of Rí but they can’t pin anything on us. That’s why ye had to leave,” he said, then took a drink of whiskey from his glass. “Ye should be thanking me. They’ve already gotten into yer close circle of friends once. They can do it again. I can’t have ‘em finding out any more than they already know.”

“What? Who? There is no one in my circle of frie—” I stopped.

Marlana. Holy crap.

He raised an eyebrow. “I see ye remember th DEA agent. They can’t touch us but they’ll help the CIA if they can.”

“But she was after Kendrix. Not me. She was my friend.”

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “She manipulated the entire thing. She’s the reason ye found out about the job and applied. Kendrix was a fucking mouse. She wanted the lion. Ye were married to him.”

Was there anything in my life that was real? Had everything and everyone in it been a lie?

Feeling the ache of sorrow, I knew there had been one truth. Rome. He was my only real.

Brady leaned back and pointed at my earrings. They were small sapphire studs that Eamon had given me for my birthday several years ago. I’d had them tucked in my purse, and when Liam had Micah take my purse because of the tracker in it and he left the contents of it for me, I didn’t realize the earrings were in there. I thought I had lost them. Not wanting to lose them again, I’d put them on and left them on.

“Those came in handy, by the way,” he said. “The only tracker that wasn’t taken to the Landiagos’ restaurant. I didn’t check for ye in its location first because it was one tracker. I assumed ye had left them there since all yer other things were at the new location. One of the Landiagos told me last they’d heard the Judgement MC had ye in exchange for his life. I shot him in the head, but only after he was useful.” He paused and took another drink.

“I thought I’d have to sneak into the building and take ye in yer sleep. Possibly kill a few obstacles in the process. But I found ye outside, talking to that rough-looking character at the pond, and waited for ‘im to leave. Then decided to draw ye over to me by playing a little tune. I picked out one of Eamon’s favorites, nice and low but loud enough that ye could hear it, and there ye came. Right to me.” He winked. “Nosy little chit.”

He seemed so pleased with himself.

“Saved yer biker’s life. If I’d had to sneak inside during the night, he probably would have woken up, and I’d have had to put a bullet in ‘im. So, you see, it all worked out rather well.”

“Bran, give Maeve a ring. Let her know our arrival time,” Brady said to the tallest of the three other men.

I’d heard Brady call the ginger Tiernan. He’d not introduced me to any of them, not that I cared. I didn’t want to know them. I wanted to go home. Back to Rome’s room at the club. That home. But my being there would put him in danger.

“Yer gonna like Maeve. She keeps the house runnin’ smoothly,” he informed me. “She’s been the house manager for almost twenty years now.”

Nothing mattered. I didn’t care. My past had been a lie, and my future was bleak.

“Will I ever get to go home?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but ye might not want to go if and when that time comes.”

“I’ll always want to go.” My voice sounded raspy as I fought back tears. I didn’t want to cry in front of these men. I closed my eyes and laid my head back on the seat.

The men spoke some, and I didn’t care to listen. I shut them out and thought of how, a week ago, I’d thought my life was perfect. If only I had known how fleeting it would be.

My eyes flew open from the jolt of the plane’s wheels touching the ground. I’d fallen asleep, thinking about Rome and what he was doing. Had he enjoyed seeing the baby? Did he know what it was now? Was he looking for me? Had they seen the ladder and rubber mattress on the back fence and realize I’d been taken, that I hadn’t run? All of those things were still weighing on me as I straightened in my seat.

Brady unbuckled and stood when we came to a stop, then clapped his hands together and let out a sigh of satisfaction. “It already feels better. The air is sweeter here.” He looked to the other men. “I’ll take Salem to the house and hand her over to Maeve to get settled in. Take the heli to the cave. I’ll be there in two hours.”

The heli, as in helicopter? Was the cave where they kept their secret drug stash?

What have you gotten me into, Eamon?

I’m sorry.

Me too.

Brady walked over to a closet and opened it, then took out a long, cream-colored wool coat. Bringing it toward me, he held it out. “We aren’t in Florida anymore. Yer gonna need this. It’s a bit chilly out today, but the sun is shining. That’s good for this time of year. Rain is most common at the moment.”

Great. Gloom to match my mood.

During the drive, Brady stayed busy on his phone while a man dressed in a black suit drove the Bentley that had been waiting on us when we got off the plane. The tall man was older than me, but not by much, with broad shoulders and a bald head.

He’d greeted Brady, “Mr. Murphy, sir, I hope yer flight was pleasant.”

Brady had replied, “It was, Alexander. But then it was coming home, wasn’t it? How could it not be?”

The man had smiled, then turned to me and greeted me as, “Mrs. Murphy.”

He knew who I was.

Did they all know already? Had they known who I was all along while I had no idea they existed?

Once we had settled in the vehicle, Brady offered me a cold bottle of sparkling water. I took it, but didn’t say anything. Not even a thank you .

He had flipped my world upside down and seemed happy about it.

I didn’t like him. He was nothing like Eamon. But then…Eamon had lied to me. Our entire relationship. Brady had been honest since the moment he’d grabbed me and forced me up a ladder. Perhaps I preferred Brady after all. Everything I had thought I had with Eamon was a facade. Completely fake.

Had he even loved me? Could you love someone and lie to them like he had me?

Staring out the window, I watched the trees and sprawling countryside pass us by until we turned down a road that seemed private. There were cattle out grazing near what looked to be the ruins of what I believed had once been a castle. It appeared ancient. Eamon had often spoken of Ireland and his plans to take me one day. I’d thought it sounded wonderful. It was ironic that when I finally saw it that there would be no enjoyment in it at all.

I turned to look straight ahead at an imposing white stone home or mansion—I wasn’t sure what it would properly be titled. I should have expected something like that. After the private plane my deceased husband had designed. However, this wasn’t new or designed by him. The house looked to be a couple of centuries old, although it was well kept and in excellent condition. Homes just weren’t built like that one any longer, and unlike America, I knew Europe was filled with buildings built several hundred years ago.

Pulling around the flat-stone-paved drive that made a circle around a water fountain of what I thought was a Greek goddess, but I wasn’t positive, the car stopped just beside the steps that led up to the front door.

“Beautiful, is it not?” Brady said, and I glanced at him to see his pleased expression. “Manleigh Hall,” he informed me. “It was built in 1775 and sits on three hundred acres. Not a prettier piece of land to be found in Ireland. Isn’t that right, Alexander?” He patted the back of the driver’s seat as Alexander opened the driver’s door to get out of the car.

“Right, sir,” he replied before exiting.

Brady pointed to a group of trees out to the right side of the house. “That one there in the middle. Doesn’t look like much now, but in a couple of months, it’ll become a cloud of white blooms that’re so fragrant that ye will want to go near it and just inhale. The apples that it produces, ye don’t want to eat them as they are, but they make the finest cider. Maeve is a genius with them. Siberian crab apple trees are rare in these parts.”

The door on my side opened, and Alexander stood to the side of it so that I could get out. I didn’t respond to Brady’s informative talk about an apple tree he seemed proud of. The man could be odd.

Climbing out, I pulled the coat that Brady had given me before disembarking the plane tighter around me. I’d grown accustomed to the weather in South Florida. The cold dampness in the air was biting, and I shivered. It didn’t look like spring here. In fact, it was similar to Boston this time of year.

“Now, there isn’t much to see of a city nearby. We are out a ways from one, but the property is a wealth of intrigue,” Brady prattled on as if he were some tour guide while he walked around the front of the Bentley toward me. “The castle ruins are safe enough to explore, and if ye will look out that way, there is color to be seen on the forestry, unlike the ones closest to the house. The Cornelian cherry trees are a bright yellow right now and one of my favorites. The stables have several tame horses available for a slow trot along the land, but beware, we don’t have a Western saddle available. I can order one if ye prefer. A tennis court is out back, along with a heated pool. But like I said, it won’t always be excellent outdoor weather.”

He started up the stairs as he continued to talk, and I followed.

“The estate has a full library with classics to contemporary. Over ten thousand titles. There is also an art studio with everything one needs to paint, I know ye have an interest in that. My grandmother loved nothing more than to spend hours in front of a canvas, creating. Her paintings were mostly a disaster, but she didn’t seem to mind.”

We reached the front door, and it opened, as if on cue. An older woman with a black dress and white apron stood back with a friendly smile. I didn’t feel like smiling in return. I’d much rather weep, but she’d done nothing to me. It was Brady who had taken my life and happiness from me.

Brady motioned for me to enter first.

“Maeve,” he said. “As ye know, this is Eamon’s Salem. She is incredibly unhappy about her arrival, but we can show her that the Irish are a much better sort, can we not?”

There was pity in Maeve’s kind eyes as she looked from him back to me. I wished she wouldn’t do that. I’d start crying. I didn’t need any more encouragement. And I wasn’t Eamon’s. Not anymore.

I turned to look anywhere else but at her understanding expression.

The openness and natural light made the space appear massive. Six marble columns were proportionally spaced throughout, and centering it all was a domed ceiling with a glazed atrium.

“I will do my very best to make sure Mrs. Murphy has all the comforts of home,” Maeve replied.

That would be impossible, but I didn’t say so.

“I know ye will. As much as being home is a welcome treat, I need to leave Salem with ye and be on my way to handle business.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

“Try to enjoy yerself,” Brady said to me. “Anything ye need for yer art let Maeve know. She’ll get it. I’ll be out of sight, so ye won’t have to use yer energy and focus on shooting me loathing looks of disgust and hate.” His voice was jovial, as if he thought it was humorous.

He had the hate and loathing correct.