Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Jude couldn’t settle down until he saw the headlights of Sorcha O’Connor’s car pull into the driveway, and even then the tension riding him didn’t relax until Sloan climbed out of the passenger seat. The whole situation was fucked. He should be planning his next step—how to remove the old woman—but all he could think about was the Russian offering money in exchange for Colm’s death.

And the very real possibility that Sloan could be pregnant with his child.

She glanced his way as she walked up to the front door, but she didn’t show any indication that she saw him lurking in the shadows—or that she wanted to talk to him. Jude silently cursed. His focus was shot, his mission was in shambles, and he didn’t know what the fuck his next step was supposed to be.

Even now, he wanted her, the desire like a sickness inside him that he couldn’t exorcise—that he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

She’d taken the pill. He’d watched her, disappointment and something almost like fear warring within him. Jude would make a shit father. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to be a father. It wasn’t like his mother, God rest her soul, had been a sterling example of parenthood. She’d done the best she could, and he loved her for that, but the thought of putting any child of his through what he went through growing up…

It didn’t sit well with him. It didn’t sit well at all.

Sloan had been taking care of herself for less than a month. And her parents weren’t much better than his had been. How was she supposed to be a good mother when the only example she’d ever had had been content to sell her off into a political marriage to further her own power?

Damn it, that’s not fair.

But then, he didn’t much feel like being fair right around now.

He stalked into his house, but the walls were too small, the closed shutters only adding to the feeling. He needed to move. More than that, he needed to hunt something.

Someone.

He had his phone in his hand before he could think better of it. Stefan answered on the first ring. “What now?”

“Dmitri Romanov.”

“Oh, fuck off. It’s bad enough that I’m on that bastard’s radar. I’m sure as hell not going to go looking for him. Owing you my life doesn’t mean I’m going to get myself killed for you.”

The fear in Stefan’s voice almost made him reconsider, but there was too much on the line to be delicate. Still…He strode another circle around his living room. “I just need an address.”

“You’re not going after him.”

He snorted. “I thought you didn’t want to be involved.”

“Newsflash, your contrary ass involved me when you had me hunting down information on that chick. And, to be perfectly honest, things was rather dull before you burst in and saved my life like some kind of psychotic superhero. If you die, that would be fuck-all for shit going forward.”

“Stefan, sometimes I have no goddamn idea what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying going after Romanov is fucking suicide, and you’re smarter than that.”

Maybe two weeks ago, but that was before the stakes had been raised. Before Jude potentially had something to lose. Going after Dmitri, even in a roundabout way, was like stepping into a cage with a rabid lion and hoping for the best—it was risky as hell and not to be done if there were any other option. Unfortunately, Jude was fresh out of options. He had to ensure Dmitri didn’t snatch Sloan, and there were only two ways to do it—keep Sloan on lockdown indefinitely…or go straight to the source. Since he knew how the former would go, that really only left him with one option. Hate getting painted into a fucking corner.

He moved to the window and stared out through the thin crack in the shutters. “The address, Stefan.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Fine.”

“And I need a local doctor—someone who can do blood tests and is known for their discretion.” The sooner he knew which way the pregnancy scare went, the better. Hell, he should have called Stefan before traipsing up to Portland, but he’d been too goddamn frazzled to even consider it.

Stefan was silent for a beat, and then another. “That will take longer to get ahold of than the address.” He didn’t ask why Jude needed a doctor with those credentials, and Jude didn’t offer.

“By the end of the week.” He hung up. It’d have to wait either way. He needed a chance to scope out the Russian’s defenses and see just how suicidal a man would have to be to make an attempt on him. Hoping it wouldn’t come to that was useless. Jude didn’t rely on hope. All he had were cold hard facts, and the fact was Dmitri had threatened Sloan, no matter how carefully worded it had been, or how he’d done his best to pretend they were on the same side.

They might have similar goals when it came to Colm Sheridan.

They sure as fuck didn’t where Sloan was concerned.

He wanted her for his own reasons, and Jude wasn’t about to give her up before the condom broke. Now? Now, he’d slaughter his way through every person in the Romanov camp if it meant keeping her safe.

Careful there. You’re in danger of forgetting your mission.

He turned to stare at the picture of his family. Revenge had been the only thing keeping him going for a very long time. It was always the end goal, from the second his mother first pressed a .45 into his hands. All the hunts, all the kills, all the paydays—all to give him the resources he needed to fulfill his mother’s dying wish.

Kill the Sheridans.

Make Colm pay for what he’d done to Jude’s family.

He didn’t know what he’d have if he didn’t have that. Quitting when he was so close to seeing his endgame realized…He couldn’t even wrap his head around the thought. It would be a betrayal to his mother, to the brothers and father who he’d never get to know because of what Colm Sheridan did.

But moving forward now, when he had Romanov on his ass and the potential that Sloan might be pregnant, didn’t sit right with him, either. Was endangering the living worth fulfilling his promise to the dead?

One thing at a time.

*  *  *

He walked over to the O’Connor place. It felt weird to knock on the door, but he had no interest in being on the wrong end of a shotgun again. Sloan answered, shadows in her eyes for the first time since they’d had sex. She stared at him, but she didn’t move back to let him in or do anything other than wait.

“I have to leave town for a little bit,” he said.

“Thanks for letting me know.” She started to shut the door.

He stopped it before she could close him out. “Sloan…” There wasn’t much he could tell her without revealing everything—who he was, how he was connected to her without realizing it, the danger she was in because of him. “Don’t call anyone. Don’t go out at night. Keep a goddamn low profile until I’m back.”

Some life flared in her eyes. “I don’t need a keeper.”

“Not a keeper.” Protector. A hat he’d never had to wear—one he wasn’t sure fit him. He huffed out a breath. “It’s not safe.”

“Life rarely is.”

Damn it, he was fucking this up. Jude took a step back. “Come here.”

“We’ve been through this song and dance before, and considering the potential outcome, I don’t feel inclined to go another round.” She leaned against the doorframe. “I want you, Jude. I’d be a liar if I said otherwise, but this whole potential pregnancy thing is freaking me out, and I can’t even look at you without thinking about it. I know you’re scared, too, so please just give me some space until we know one way or another.”

When it became clear she had no intention of closing the distance between them, he did it, taking her hand. “Baby or no, this thing between us is nowhere near finished.”

“You were very clear about the expiration date, and after a pregnancy scare…I can’t do this back-and-forth with you. It twists me up.”

He traced a thumb over her inner wrist. If he were a better man, he’d tell her what was going on, what was at risk. He’d warn her to lose herself again and, this time, he wouldn’t lead the dogs right to her door.

But Jude wasn’t a better man, and he was nowhere near done with Sloan. Not yet. “You don’t want this to end.”

She looked up at him with eyes gone inky in the darkness. “Sometimes the pleasure isn’t worth the pain.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He tugged on her wrist, and she allowed him to pull her against his chest. “The pleasure is always worth the pain. Life is too short for that to be anything but the truth.”

“Where are you going, Jude?”

He couldn’t tell her—not until he knew exactly what Dmitri Romanov had leveled at them. Not until he had a plan. “It’s not important.”

She arched her eyebrows. “Important enough to leave. Important enough that you’re telling me to be careful.”

She has you there.

He went with half the truth. “I have a complicated history. Someone interested in my past has made threats that I can’t dismiss. Since you’re close to me, those threats extend to you.”

“That’s incredibly vague.” She frowned. “And we’re not close. We’re just sleeping together.”

A shard of something like hurt went through him at her words, but he pushed it away and snagged the back of her neck. “We’re not just anything.” He kissed her, harsh and brutal. “Stay safe until I get back.”

Sloan blinked up at him. “You still owe me answers. Real answers.”

“I know.” There’d be no escaping it once he returned.

There wouldn’t be any escaping anything.

*  *  *

Life fell into a strange sort of rhythm with Jude gone. Sloan worked in the diner, did yoga with Jessica, and spent her evenings with Sorcha. She didn’t particularly like the older woman, but she was nothing short of entertaining.

Through it all, Sloan worried about Jude, about the threat that had called him away, about the fact she hadn’t gotten her period yet despite taking the morning-after pill.

Telling herself that every single thing she feared was beyond her control didn’t do anything but deepen her anxiety. Jude was obviously capable, and just because he said there was a threat didn’t mean it was a threat like she would have fielded growing up as an O’Malley.

Normal people didn’t worry about urban warfare between mobs or drive-by shootings or convenient fires that showed up when people didn’t fall in line.

She was just projecting her own issues onto him. Simple. But no matter how many times she told herself that, with each day that went by without word, her fear deepened.

A week into Jude’s absence, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She called Teague on one of the burner phones she’d hidden under her bed. It rang and rang and rang before finally clicking over to voicemail. Sloan hung up without leaving a message.

Her phone rang almost instantly, and she startled. “Hello?”

“What’s wrong?”

She breathed out a sigh of relief. “Teague.”

For his part, he didn’t sound the least bit reassured. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just…”

“Then why are you calling?” He seemed to realize he sounded terse, because his tone gentled. “Not that I’m not happy to hear from you, but Aiden has his hounds out looking for you, and I don’t want to do something to tip them off.”

A different kind of fear rose at his words. She’d known her family would search for her, but Teague had been so reassuring when he said they’d never find her. He hadn’t sounded worried through the entire planning and extraction process. He sounded worried now. She clutched the phone. “Does he know where I am?”

“We covered your trail too well. Even Cillian can’t make progress with it.”

Thank God.She took a deep breath, well aware that they were nearing the time limit for a potential wiretap. “Then I’ll make it quick. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I just need some information.”

“I’ll do what I can.” He always would. That was so very Teague of him. Of all her brothers, Teague was the one who’d bend over backward, putting himself in danger time and time again, to ensure the people around him were safe.

She wanted to ask him how everything else was going. Callie would be well into her second trimester now, maybe even showing. Cillian must have been okay because Teague mentioned him…I miss them. The realization staggered her. It shouldn’t have. She loved her family dearly. Her siblings weren’t the reason she’d left.

“Sloan?”

The concern in his voice brought her back to the matter at hand. “Do you know a man named Jude Smith? He’s big, long dark hair, short beard, dark eyes. He…He might be a hit man or hired muscle.”

Teague was silent for a beat, and then another. “The name doesn’t ring any bells, though if he’s in that life, I doubt his last name is really Smith.”

“I know.” She breathed another small sigh of relief. She hadn’t really believed Jude was somehow linked to her life back home, but with everything going on, she couldn’t help but be a little paranoid. Maybe he’s running from something, the same way I am. It would explain the potentially fake last name. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Just because I haven’t met the man, doesn’t mean he isn’t exactly what you fear. How do you know him?”

She clutched the phone tighter. “He’s my next-door neighbor.” My lover. Possibly the man who got me pregnant…if I’m pregnant. The longer she went without a period, the greater that fear grew—so great that she couldn’t force the words into the open air, even when she was alone.

She’d bought a test, but technically she wasn’t supposed to have her period for another week, and the information she’d found online said the pregnancy hormone levels wouldn’t be high enough to be picked up by an at-home test until then. Taking one now wouldn’t prove anything, because it’d likely come back negative regardless of whether she was pregnant or not.

Teague cursed. “I knew we should have put you somewhere else. Listen carefully, Sloan. Sorcha has enemies. Not just because she was born a Sheridan, but because of who her late husband was. We thought you’d be okay there because she’s successfully kept both herself and her small staff safe, but…” He cursed again. “If you think for a second that you might be in danger, get out. Get out immediately. Take the money and run, and I’ll find a way to get you a new identity, more money, whatever you need. Listen to your instincts.”

What instincts?She fought down the helpless feeling trying to take root.

She wasn’t helpless.

And she wasn’t leaving.

“It’s fine. I’ll be careful. I promise.” The same promise she’d made to Jude. Sloan took a deep breath. “Is there any way one of the other families could know I’m here?”

“No. If Cillian can’t find you, I doubt anyone can.”

The reassurance felt like a lie, though she couldn’t say if it was because he thought there were better hunters out there than Cillian or because he was that worried. She forced a smile into her voice. “I’m safe. It will be okay. Take care of yourself and Callie.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” She hung up and systematically dismantled the phone, removing the battery and tossing it into the wastebasket next to her bed.

Teague had offered little information about what was going on back home, but that was just the way she’d wanted it. She couldn’t have it both ways. Her earlier realization rose up and choked her. I miss them. This was the longest she’d gone without seeing her siblings since she was born.

The longer she was away, the more she wondered if she’d been too hard on her sister Carrigan.

Sloan could attest to how being around Jude was turning her into a fool for him. She felt like an addict, craving his presence, craving his hands on her body and his lips against her skin, muttering the filthiest of words. And that draw was without the love her sister professed for James Halloran.

If Carrigan felt an ounce of the attraction for James that Sloan felt for Jude…

She suddenly understood her sister’s choice all too well.