Chapter 15

Laine

The morning sun spills through the ornate window, casting beams of light that make the room feel less ominous than the shadows of last night. The gardens outside are tranquil, a stark contrast to the chaos that seems to encircle this place after dark.

Did I really see men loading bodies into a van?

The thought sends a shiver down my spine.

Do I really want to know? No. I don't. As a criminal defense attorney, there are things I'm better off not knowing.

Plausible deniability is real.

Flipping back my covers, I stretch and take twenty minutes in the washroom to shower and get ready for what is certain to be another stressful day.

Cora has the ensuite bathroom stocked with anything a guest could want and I appreciate it more than she knows. I only saw her interact with Tag for a moment last night, but there is a light of genuine affection between them.

How long has she been on staff here? Did she watch over him and his brothers as they grew up? Tag mentioned losing his father but didn't mention his mother at all. Was that intentional?

I'm pulled from my thoughts by a knock at the door. "Come in."

A beautiful redhead pokes her head inside. "Good morning. I'm Siobhan. We met last night. Actually, I don't think Tag introduced us." Her voice is smooth, with a lilting accent that matches the rolling green hills outside.

She steps into my room, carrying my duffle bag, and I instantly grow more interested in her visit. "Tag asked that I pick up your things at the Gilford and make you feel welcome."

Flowing red hair cascades around porcelain shoulders as she sets my bag on the bed. "He's always been like that with the ladies. I can't tell you how many women have gotten the wrong idea about his ways and thought that they were special."

Her smile doesn't erase the calculating edge to her gaze, and I bristle. Is she seriously sizing me up?

Catty women are the same all around the world. I ignore the drama, grip the handles of my duffle, and move the bag to the dresser.

A wave of panic hits when I lift it.

It's way too light.

The sixty grand I lined into the false bottom was a comforting weight throughout my travels. Now, it's gone. I fight the urge to fling my clothes into the air to rip into the bag.

Instead, I force a smile. "Thanks for bringing this."

She juts her hip out and leans against the end of the bed. "I bet a gun battle was more than you bargained for when you decided to take Tag for a wild ride, wasn't it?"

Her tone is casual, but her eyes are probing, searching.

"Thanks again for my bag. I'm sure you've got a busy day to get to."

Her gaze drifts around my room, taking in the details. "What are you really doing here, ducky?"

Her question catches me off guard. "You mean besides being Tag's prisoner?"

She chuckles. "Prison, you say. So, this elegant suite is your cell and Tag Quinn is your warden? You realize there are a thousand sweet things that would change places with you in a heartbeat, don't you?"

"What is it to you?"

She gives me a non-committal shrug and checks the polish on her nails. "I've been with the Quinns since we were kids. We're a family. And in a world like ours, family watches out for one another."

I pause, seeing her extended claws for what they really are. "Oh, I get it. You're one of the women who got the wrong idea. You thought you were special, but learned otherwise. What's the matter? A little green-eyed monster got you by the heart?"

Siobhan laughs, a sound that doesn't hold any warmth. "I'm simply making conversation. Everyone knows Tag didn't bring you here out of the goodness of his heart. There's an angle. Whether it's on his side or yours, I'm not sure."

I bristle at her insinuation. "I think you should leave."

Her eyes narrow slightly, but she doesn't move an inch. "You don't even know what you've gotten into, do you?"

After years in the courtroom interrogating hostile witnesses, I can bury my emotional response to any situation. This chick has no idea who she's toying with. "I don't suppose that's any of your concern. Now, run along. Maybe there's something important you can do to keep Tag's attention. Don't let me keep you. Busy day and all that."

Her gaze narrows. "Don't be so na?ve, girlfriend."

I scoff. "I'm not your girlfriend, and I've asked you politely three times now. So, in terms you might actually understand, feck off."

Before she can retort, another voice intervenes. "What's going on in here?"

A younger, softer version of Tag enters the bedroom. He looks from Siobhan to me and back to the redhead. "Siobhan? Is there a problem?"

All the sharp edges disappear as the woman pulls her claws in. "Och, no, Finny. Everything's grand. How are you? Aiden mentioned you've been down since your da passed. I'm sorry about that."

If I remember correctly, Finn is the youngest Quinn brother…and thankfully, he doesn't seem too thrilled to see the redhead. "Aiden is downstairs. He asked that I send you down so he can take you home."

"Of course," Siobhan replies, her eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary before she exits.

I don't give her the satisfaction of reacting. Being a lawyer at a top-tier firm trains you to process things inwardly and not let them see you sweat.

When she's gone, Finn steps inside, his expression concerned. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, thank you," I say, managing a smile. "I appreciate you stepping in."

He nods, looking me over, curiosity evident in his dark green gaze.

"Can I help you?"

He straightens and scratches at the back of his neck. "Och, sorry. It's just…Tag hasn't come home since Da's funeral, and I was wondering what prompted his return last night."

"I suppose it was the attack at Jimmy's pub. He said he had a lot to deal with because of that."

Finn flashes me a knowing grin. "Aye, I'm sure that's what it was. Anyway, he sent me up to escort you down for breakfast. The place is big and people tend to get turned around."

"He won't be joining us?"

"He will. He's just finishing up a call and will join us in the dining room."

"I'll just be a moment. I'm going to change into my own clothes now that they are here." Taking my duffle bag into the bathroom, I close the door and start pulling out the neatly folded stacks of my belongings. After setting them on the bathroom vanity, I pull the leather tab of the traveler's bag and stare at an empty compartment.

You motherfucking asshole.

The money I stashed away, every last dollar of my new life emergency fund, is gone.

Anger flares, hot and fierce. Tag took it to keep me here, to ensure I can't leave.

The frustration and betrayal of that move proves how little he knows about me. I won't be trapped. It's one thing to be caught in his world by circumstance, another to be held here by force.

Taking deep breaths while I change, I work to compose myself. I can't go down to breakfast like this, not with this fury burning inside me.

But I also can't let this go.

In less than twenty-four hours, he's taken my money, my mother, and my choices away from me.

Madelaine Moneta would never have stood for any of this. I tried to lie low and play the part of a new person, but it's not working.

I am—and will always be—me!

Tag Quinn may think he's got me under his thumb, but he's about to find out how wrong he is.