Page 42 of Sweet Deception (Irish Kings #4)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Adrenaline pumps through my body with enough intensity to shift the rest of our escape into freeze frames.

Reaching the basement. Slipping through the drainage grate.

Jogging hunched over through the dark, empty pipe toward the putrid pond.

Navigating carefully back up the iron staircase to the tube that leads to the dock.

Someone shouting from the building. Darren detonating the charges he set and bringing down the house on several of our assailants.

Us hoofing it uphill through tall grass on our way back toward our caravan, the popcorn noise of bullets flying at our shadows.

Ten paces ahead of us, Rory throws the passenger side door open for Darren, then slides the main door open and gestures for me to dive into the back.

No complaints here.

We haul ass and hurl ourselves in, doors slamming shut behind us. When Cian drops his foot on the gas pedal, the world starts moving at hyper speed.

From the floor in the back of the van, I can’t see where we’re going. I tug off the earpiece, and the steady pounding of my heart drowns out every other sound.

And I thought sneaking into a mafia wedding reception was the most dangerous thing I could ever do…

Bozhe moy , that was close.

When I finally sit up and orient myself, I find Rory on the seat above me with an impressed sort of half-smile on his face. “How’d it go?”

I realize Darren’s focused on me too. And Cian, though driving like a maniac, keeps stealing glimpses in the rearview mirror.

I’m the only one who knows this mission was a total success.

With a still-shaking hand, I retrieve the tablet from the tech sling attached to my chest and hold it up like my firstborn child. Cue the Lion King soundtrack.

“I got it.” Still breathless and coming down from the intensity of what just happened, I glance at Darren. “We did it.”

“You two make a good team, I see.” Rory slides the tablet from my hands to examine my work. “Now we can find out what Troy-boy’s been up to.”

The rest of the drive back to the estate feels short, our time eaten up by the energy and exhaustion of victory.

Darren recounts the whole event to Cian with this chaotic grin, tossing his eyes my way every so often, while I lie back down on the floor, drifting from one delirious thought to another.

Darren sacrificing himself like that, then leading us through the dark without a hint of fear? The explosions he set off in the wake of our daring escape, bullets raining like we fell out of the sky and into some kind of action movie…

That’s what my memories are right now.

Pure fiction.

On the seat beside me, Rory pores over the server data. I want to sit next to him and read over his shoulder, but the second we were safely back in the caravan and zooming off the property, my legs gave out. And I’ve been a blob of jelly ever since, too spent to move.

Instead, I watch the expression on his face shift while he analyzes the data and taps furiously through folder after folder, scanning files.

“Find anything?” I manage to ask.

“Oh, yes.” Rory’s fingers never stop typing. “Way more than I expected.”

My heart drops at those words. What does that mean?

“Is it worse than we thought?” Cian cuts in from the front seat.

“You could say that.” Rory fishes his phone out of his pants pocket and initiates a call without even looking at it. He holds the device to his ear, and our entire van goes quiet. “Yeah. You’re both going to want to see this. We’ll set up in the war room the minute we get back… Okay. Understood.”

As the call abruptly ends, I think we can all comprehend our new reality. We’ve retrieved information about Red Hill, but now comes the hard part. Figuring out exactly how we’re going to use it.

Dread knots in my belly as we approach the gates to the Gallagher estate. The sun rising around us—this bright and beautiful day—is at odds with the uneasiness embedded inside me.

So many thoughts race through my mind that I barely remember who I am by the time the caravan pulls back into the garage around eight.

Finally, I sit up, my body heavy as lead.

After Darren helps me out of the car, Rory appears in front of us, waving the tablet I handed over to him. “Let’s go. You’re all going to want to see this.”

Somehow, I doubt that.

We gather in the war room with Rory, and while he gets things hooked up and turned on, we settle into our seats. Cian assists his friend with a few cables as Darren squeezes my hand under the table, giving me some much-needed emotional support.

“You were incredible back there,” he whispers, his lips brushing my ear. He’s so sweet, I want to ball myself up under the table and drag him down there with me. But guilt still swims in my gut, stabbing little holes in my stomach lining.

I can only shake my head. “You’re the incredible one.”

I’m just the girl who’s trying to use you…

Before we can say more, the doors to the war room swing open. Finn and his crew march in looking like hell.

He and Darren touch base in gruff cavemen-type grunts. When Shane arrives with Darren’s father Donal by his side, a hush settles over the room. They take their seats at the head of the table.

Donal eyes his son, then Rory and Cian. “Report.”

“Mission success.” Rory stops setting up to answer his superiors. “We were able to retrieve the server data.”

“And damage the operations base,” Finn chimes in with pride. His expression grows bitter as his fingers coil into a fist. “I only wish I’d gotten to pay my respects to Carrot Top personally.”

He can only be talking about Troy Sullivan with that bright orange hair comment.

The guy who almost killed Darren and me a few hours ago…

“Well?” Shane cuts in. “How bad is it?”

“You can all see for yourselves.” Rory fires up the projector, and in moments, all of Red Hill’s dirty laundry graces the screen.

I straighten up in my seat, my eyes going wide as saucers.

Bozhe moy… Part of me is shocked I’m even still in the room for this. Sure, I set up the same access for myself, so I will see this sooner or later, but sooner is good. Very good. And me not having to sneak around to do it is even better.

Rory wasn’t kidding. The server data really does reveal far more than we expected to uncover. Not just the trafficking information, but evidence of corrupt police officers, judges, and politicians on Red Hill’s payroll.

Among the faces of public officials, I recognize one of the deputies.

Green eyes and hair slicked back… Fire ignites in my blood.

He’s the one Maya and I spoke with when we reported Lucy missing.

He dismissed us and set her case aside. Of course he did.

He’s on the payroll of the people responsible.

Rory brings up another window.

A list of upcoming “auction lots” freezes my blood.

Dozens of women and girls, some as young as thirteen.

Each is catalogued with photos and details. Including Lucy.

There’s a note at the bottom of the list.

Those Red Hill bastards moved the summit timeline up again.

As Rory toggles through various bits of pertinent information, the men in the room discuss what it means and how their plans will be amended to meet the greater threats.

I can’t help but notice that, once again, these women don’t come up in the conversation.

Shane still isn’t prioritizing the real victims in all of this. That angers me even more than before.

Seeing all their faces. Knowing how many of them there are…

It fans the rage and determination gathering force inside me. To these men, though, it’s inconsequential. The fates of these women and girls don’t matter as much as the family’s political footing within the hierarchy of New York City’s criminal underworld.

Why would these women and girls mean anything to these mafia men? There are no financial gains to be had from saving them. The thought is bitter. Men like these are why I’ve been employed for so long, why I’ve helped so many women escape.

They lack empathy and compassion.

I shift to Darren, who seems focused on the conversation pinging back and forth. Meanwhile, I’m actually sick with anger.

In the middle of the meeting, I rise from my seat, mumbling, “I’m going to go wash up,” and disappear without another word. As long as they get what they want, these people don’t care if I exist at all.

My mood only sours further when I venture back to the suite I’ve been assigned and beeline for the bathroom. I look like shit. I feel like shit. And not even a hot shower will change that.

I get naked anyway and sit on the shower floor, hugging my knees to my chest while the water douses me in hot waves.

What am I going to do? How do I get out of this?

Darren risked his life for me today. I want to trust him, to believe that he understands why this is so important, but I’m still not sure he does, and I don’t know how to handle that.

After a while, I climb out of the shower, towel myself dry, and fight with my hair.

I’m not expecting to find Darren waiting in my room when I step out of the bathroom. Hand over my heart, I nearly hit the ceiling.

“Hey…” I exhale as my heart rate slows. “Is everything okay?”

“That’s what I came up here to ask you.” He sits on my bed and faces me.

“I…” I swallow. “I can’t stop thinking about Lucy and everyone else. The women. The girls. We need to save them, but I don’t think Shane cares at all. What can we do to make them a priority in all this?”

“Nika, listen to me. The girls are important to Shane.” Despite the reassuring tone, his words are empty platitudes. “By default, shutting down the summit will save them.”

“Why aren’t we planning to extract them first?”

Darren hesitates before responding. “It’s something I can discuss with Shane.”

His tone implies that he doesn’t think Shane will agree.

And the damage is already done.

My heart falls all the way down to my toes.

I nod, but I can’t meet his eyes. His voice harbors no urgency, no outrage. As much as I don’t want to believe it, I don’t think Darren cares about these women either. They’re an afterthought. A complication the Kings will deal with after the business of the day has concluded.

The bitterness inside me acts as a balm for some of the guilt I’ve been battling.

I’m grateful for my foresight in setting up a hidden tracker that’s still pinging data to my private server. But other emotions churn too. Mainly betrayal and the bone-deep ache of disappointment.

After everything Darren and I have shared and been through together, after the way he’s defended me to his family, risked his life to keep me safe…he does this?

I helped his family get what they wanted. Now I’m voicing my only desire, a request that should be simple enough for them to grant—use their manpower, weapons, and technology to protect the vulnerable people in need—and what do I get? Noncommittal, wishy-washy answers.

The reaction cuts deeper than I expected.

I truly believed that Darren and I shared a connection, but what I care most about is clearly only an afterthought to him.

Darren’s a loyal member of the Irish Kings Mafia. Why am I so surprised?

But maybe I’m disappointed because somewhere deep inside, I had hoped he was more. I’ve seen more in him than this.

Darren isn’t just a violent, brutal, killing chaos agent or explosives expert. I know he’s not. But whether he’s a better man than the others, well, that doesn’t matter if he’s not going to act that way.

And the reality of that hurts.

For me, it contains the ugliest truth of all. The one I don’t want to face.

I truly am alone.

Later, after Darren’s gone to wash up, I retrieve my phone, engage my VPN, and access my backup feed. With fury in my belly, I pore over everything Rory showed us for the second time.

Scrolling through the photos of the women pierces at something deep inside me.

I’m about to put my phone down when a new file appears on the server titled, Transport Protocol . I tap on it.

As I read, my throat tightens.

They’re moving the girls tonight.

This must be in response to our infiltration effort, an attempt by Troy and his cronies to outmaneuver us. With a bit more scrolling and toggling, I manage to get the new transport location. Shock pries my eyes wide open.

After all this effort and everything that’s gone wrong, I finally know where Lucy is…and where she’ll be tonight. This may be my last chance.

If no one will help with the rescue, then I guess I’ll just have to save her and the others by myself. It’s not as if tackling difficult tasks without assistance is anything new for me. I should be used to working solo by now.

I’ve been on my own ever since my grandmother died.

Alone. Why would I believe for a single second that shacking up with a man like Darren would change that?

Or waste a moment thinking this time might be different?

Darren might enjoy me in his bed, but that doesn’t mean he wants anything more.

He never made promises, and I was a fool to allow myself to hope that, finally, I found someone besides Maya who would have my back. Someone who I could share my life with.

Pressure builds in my throat. Truth be told, I don’t think I’ll ever forget this past week.

Darren’s eyes are burned in my memory, where they shall remain long after I leave him and his entire world behind.