Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sloan didn’t talk to Carrigan on the flight. She barely looked at her sister, her mind wrapped up in the man who was making his separate way back to Boston. If Dmitri Romanov didn’t know they were both back in the area, Jude didn’t want to announce it. Not separated forever. I won’t let it be forever.

Jude hadn’t wanted her to go. She’d seen it written all over his face before he’d shut down. She bet he’d even considered hauling her off to God knew where and chaining her to a radiator or something while he dealt with Romanov. Though, knowing Jude, he likely had some well-appointed cell where he’d sex her into submission before flying off to face the danger alone.

We’re both facing danger. That’s what has to happen to make a clean break.

“I know I said you needed to come back to Boston, but are you sure about this?”

She turned to find Carrigan had dropped into the seat across from her. Sloan had never flown on a private jet before—she hadn’t flown at all before her escape—but Carrigan looked right at home in the luxurious setting. Sloan crossed her legs, still feeling a little tender from what she and Jude had done earlier. “No, I’m not sure.”

“Damn, Sloan. Just…damn.” Carrigan shook her head. “I don’t know what you have planned, but I can only help so much. I’m already riding the line by showing up to help, though it was worth it.”

She didn’t deserve her sister. Once upon a time, she’d privately thought Carrigan was selfish, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. Sloan was the selfish one. Her throat burned, and she swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I was such a terrible person and I’m sorry, and—”

“Stop.” Carrigan crossed to her seat and put her arm around her. “We’re all just ships in the middle of a hurricane, doing our best to survive. For me that meant breaking with the majority of the family. For you, that meant something different at the time. It’s okay.”

“How can you say that? I should have returned your calls.”

“Maybe. I understood why you didn’t, even if it hurt.” Carrigan shrugged and gave her a squeeze. “But you called me when it counted. You trusted me enough to get you out of that situation without trying to haul you somewhere, insisting I knew what was best for you. That means something.”

“Still.” She pressed her lips together, though the burning in her throat had now reached her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.”

Just like that. Nothing more to it. She caught James watching them over Carrigan’s shoulder and fought back a shudder. There is more to it than that. It doesn’t matter that Carrigan’s forgiven me—James hasn’t forgiven me for hurting her.

She liked him a little bit because of that.

Needing to focus on anything but what she and Jude were about to do—to risk—Sloan said, “Tell me what you’ve been doing since we last talked.”

Carrigan’s eyes sparked. “It’s been a wild ride. James and I have set up a nonprofit foundation to help sex-trafficking victims find a new home. I won’t lie and say I don’t absolutely adore talking those rich assholes out of their money. It’s for a good cause, and they have more than enough dollars to go around.” She practically vibrated as she went on to explain how they were setting up stings, of sorts, tipping off the FBI when it suited them, and working their way toward the top supplier of human trafficking on the East Coast.

She’s so incredibly happy.

It sounded dangerous. If one meet went wrong, or one person found out that they were working with cops, even distantly, it would bring the fury of both Sheridans and O’Malleys down on them.

And that wasn’t even getting into the other enemies they had.

If Sloan had learned anything over her life, though, it was that every one of her siblings needed to find their own way—herself included. If she wanted the freedom to make her own choices, she’d be a terrible person to curtail Carrigan’s choices. Even if her sister would allow it.

By the time their plane descended into Boston, it almost felt like old times again. If Carrigan had stopped partying, her stories had only gotten wilder now that she was moving through the upper crust of Boston. The rich had more secrets than they had money to bury them, and Carrigan had always been effective at getting people to talk when she wanted to.

As the plane taxied to a stop, her sister’s smile fell away. “I’ll see you to O’Malley territory, but I can’t go farther without risking an incident.” She glanced at James. “I’d fight for you, Sloan. Never think I wouldn’t. But there’s more at play than just us now, and I have to think about the people who rely on me and James for protection—and the girls who don’t have anywhere to go and no money to get there. I’ll try to help in any way I can, but—”

Sloan covered her sister’s hand with her own. “I understand. I’d never ask you to go to war for me.” She hesitated. “But I’m not going to O’Malley territory. I’m going to the Sheridans.”

*  *  *

“Tell me again.” It took every bit of Aiden’s not-inconsiderable willpower not to yell the words. The week had gone to shit after he’d tracked down Charlotte Finch. Her not telling him to get lost permanently was the only thing that had gone right. He’d have to follow up with her before too long, but he could read people well enough to know that she’d stew on his offer until he forced her hand. The issue was getting the timing right to prevent her from digging in her heels through sheer instinct.

But that wasn’t the problem right now.

His problem was sitting right in front of him, head hanging, her hair a tangled mess from the fact Liam had pulled her out of bed. He looked over Keira’s shoulder and Liam gave a short shake of his head.

She wasn’t telling the full story.

Keira blinked bloodshot eyes at him. “We’ve gone through this—three times. I was minding my own goddamn business and he showed up. Next thing I know, his thug hauled me to his car and tossed me into the backseat. Then he drove me here. End of story.”

It was possible that was all there was to it, but Aiden had seen the footage of the front of their townhouse. She’d climbed out of the backseat, her clothes a fumbled mess, and the look on her face as Romanov had driven off…

Aiden didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.

But he couldn’t do a single damn thing if Keira wouldn’t talk to him. “Did he…Did he hurt you?”

“Hurt…” She blinked those hazel eyes at him, and then laughed. “Oh my God, are you asking if he raped me? Does that word bother you, big brother? Rape.”

He gripped the edge of the desk, trying to keep his temper and figure out if she was attempting to provoke a response because she was pissed at him, or because she actually had been hurt. “Answer the fucking question, Keira.”

She pushed to her feet and shoved her hair back. “No, he didn’t rape me. Fuck, Aiden. Stop trying to pretend that you’re this ultimate protector, Seamus 2.0. You’re not. You’re worse than our father is.” She shoved past Liam, but stopped in the doorway. “And Dmitri Romanov didn’t lay a hand on me, though I would have gladly fucked him just to wipe that goddamn look off your face.”

She slammed the door shut, leaving him staring at her, her accusation ringing in his ears.

Fuck. Just…fuck.

He sat back. I have to do something about Romanov, sooner rather than later. That, at least, was a problem he could theoretically fix. He didn’t know how to fix his sister, how to fix his broken family.

She was right. He wasn’t their father. He didn’t know how to be.

Things would be easier if he could detach the way Seamus did. If he were more ruthless, he would have brought Sloan back into the fold by now, would have ground out the last of Keira’s rebellion, would have eliminated their enemies one by one until no one stood strong enough to threaten them.

Instead, he’d chosen to go about things in a less direct way. He motioned to Liam. “What have you got?”

“Your brother didn’t manage to bring Sloan back. He went to Washington with eight men, and he’s coming back with eight men, but several are injured.”

Judging from what they’d discovered about Jude MacNamara in the time since Sloan told Teague who she was running with, he didn’t find that surprising. The man had to be good at what he did if he’d survived as long as he had. Mediocre hit men didn’t last long before someone put them out of their misery.

Aiden drummed his fingers on the desk. “It’s time I had a conversation with my brother.” Teague wouldn’t like hearing that they’d tapped his phone, but that was too fucking bad. Aiden didn’t like that Teague was informing for the goddamn FBI. It was time to address that, too.

“There’s more.”

Of course there was. He raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Liam gave a tight smile. “Carrigan and James Halloran just landed on a private airstrip north of the city—with Sloan.”

He should have known Sloan wouldn’t call him for help—especially when it appeared Teague was trying to do the noble thing and retrieve her despite her wishes. She wouldn’t trust Aiden. But she apparently did trust their sister. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

He drummed his fingers faster, considering the implications. Sloan wouldn’t have come back here without a reason. As great as it’d be to think that she was coming home, he knew better. This had to do with the man she’d chosen for her own. First Carrigan and now Sloan. God only knows who Keira is going to fall for when the time comes.

“I think it’s time MacNamara and I had a chat.”

“I figured you’d want to eventually.” Liam pulled a card out of his jacket pocket. It was blank except for a number scrawled across it. “I took the liberty of tracking down his contact information.”

“I don’t pay you enough.”

“You’re welcome to give me a raise.”

He snorted. “Consider it done.” There was no point in waiting to contact MacNamara. If Sloan was back in Boston, he doubted the man was far behind her. They wouldn’t have extracted themselves from Teague’s grasp just to go their separate ways.

He dialed, half expecting the man not to answer. Instead a gruff voice came onto the line. “Who the fuck is this?”

No point in beating around the bush. “Aiden O’Malley.”

“Jesus Christ, you O’Malley men are like cockroaches. How’d you get this number?” Jude cursed. “Scratch that. I don’t give a fuck. What do you want?”

“Tell me why you’re in Boston.”

“Or what?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Aiden had known it would come down to this. Sloan had left of her own free will, even if she’d had Teague’s help. Aiden wasn’t Teague. He didn’t see the best in people, and he sure as fuck didn’t have a white knight complex. Which is why he believed his sister when she said she chose Jude MacNamara. Sloan might be sheltered, she might be as innocent as one of their family could get, but she’d sounded alive for the first time since Devlin died.

He had a feeling this man’s presence in her life had something to do with that. “My sister chose you.”

A hesitation. “You tapped Teague’s phone.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Jude snorted. “I would have whooped his ass for going behind my back and stealing my sister.”

He should have. But then, Aiden’s life would be a lot simpler if that was all Teague had done. “Answer the question.”

“You didn’t ask a question. But yeah, your sister chose me. I’m not letting her go without a fight, and I’m willing to bring that to your front door if you fall in with your idiot brother.”

He wasn’t who Aiden would have chosen for Sloan. But he’d done his homework. Hit man or not, Jude MacNamara had an honorable streak. “They say you never kill someone who doesn’t have it coming.”

“You seem to know a whole hell of a lot for someone I’ve never had a fucking conversation with.” The background noise seemed to indicate he was in a city, which only supported Aiden’s suspicion that Jude had followed Sloan back to Boston. They’re planning something.

The question remained what.

Before he could ask again, Jude spoke. “If your sister told you that she chooses me—that she wants to leave the life she had with your family behind—and that she’s happy with me, would you believe her?”

His first instinct was to react the exact same way Teague had—instant denial. But Aiden took a step back and tried to think beyond his instinctive desire to protect Sloan. She’d come back to Boston on her own. She was outside this man’s influence, and even if he didn’t see eye to eye with Carrigan and James, Aiden had no doubt they were more than capable of protecting Sloan if the situation called for it. “If she tells me face-to-face that she chooses you, I’ll believe her.” He’d read the truth on her face, one way or another.

“Then you better leave pretty fucking fast. She’ll be at the Sheridan house within thirty minutes. If you let her walk, then we’ll talk.”

Aiden hung up and stood. “Get four men. We’re going to the Sheridans’, and we’re going now.”

It was time to get his house in order.

*  *  *

The Sheridans had a decent perimeter set up and regular patrols who mostly managed not to look like patrols, but Jude had been casing the territory for years. He knew how to get in and get out without being seen. The house whose window he watched from had been earned with the blood of his first hit. He hadn’t visited it more than a handful of times over the years, not wanting to risk drawing attention to himself.

A car pulled up to the front of the Sheridan house, expelling a nervous-looking Sloan. Oh, she looked calm on the outside, but he could recognize the set of her spine and the way she clenched her hands. She was scared shitless, but hell if she’d let them see. Pride warred with fear, one wanting to kiss her, and the other wanting to charge down the street and scoop her up, taking her anywhere but here.

She trusted him to do the job and not get killed.

She’d asked him to trust her to get in and out of Sheridan hands without issue.

He was going to respect that.

But he was also going to follow through on his threat if he thought for a second that one of those bastards she called brothers so much as touched her.

Aiden, at least, sounded like he was willing to hear her out, and wasn’t that a strange turn of events? Jude hadn’t expected a call from the oldest O’Malley brother. He knew the man was perceptive from his reputation, but apparently he’d underestimated him. Maybe he’s perceptive enough to be an ally instead of an enemy.

There was only one way to tell for sure.

A grand total of ninety seconds later, two cars slammed to a stop in front of the house, immediately expelling Aiden and five of his men. He paused and looked up and down the street, which only went to show he had good instincts. Jude wouldn’t let himself be seen, but it said something that Aiden sensed his presence at all.

His phone rang as the O’Malley group walked into the Sheridan house, and he answered without taking his gaze from the door they’d disappeared through. “What?”

“You’ve traveled to Boston earlier than we discussed.”

He silently cursed. “Aw, Romanov, did you miss me? It’s only been a week. You should have said something. I would have come back sooner.” No reason to let him know that the plan changed.

“Charming.” A careful pause. “I truly hope you’re not planning on double-crossing me, Jude.”

“And let Colm walk? Not likely.” He clenched his jaw, determined not to say more. In order for this to work, Romanov couldn’t know his intentions, which meant playing along.

“Perhaps you should add some of the O’Malleys to that list you have of dead men walking.”

Even though he knew better than to get drawn into a conversation with this man, he said, “And do your dirty work for you? I don’t think so. You can’t afford me.”

“All evidence points to the contrary. I’m paying you to remove Colm Sheridan—something you’d do well to remember.”

“I have certain criteria. The O’Malley men don’t meet it.”

Romanov chuckled. “Not yet. But when they decide to keep your precious Sloan from you? They will. She’s the sweet little sister and you’re a vicious killer. In what world would an O’Malley give their blessing?”

“Funny, but Carrigan gave her blessing. She says ‘hi’ by the way.”

Silence for a beat, and then two. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you?”

He moved to the window and looked out, but nothing had changed. “I like to think so.”

“Then tell me what the O’Malley men will do when they find out Sloan’s carrying your child.” He’d recovered from the Carrigan jab far too quickly, regaining his unruffled tone. “They’ll keep her from you, and they’ll remove the child. You know it’s the truth.”

Jude gripped the phone so tightly, the case creaked. “You’re a motherfucker, aren’t you?” They might not push her to have an abortion—bastard or no, he didn’t think Teague would go to those lengths—but they would keep her under lock and key and then push her to give the baby up for adoption. No. I won’t allow it.

“As you said, you’re a smart man. Which is why you will be in that apartment with your finger on the trigger in an hour, won’t you?”

“I’ll be there.” Jude was already moving, hustling down the stairs and onto the street. He could get to the apartment across from the restaurant in twenty. As much as he wanted to stay here and ensure Sloan got out okay, he didn’t trust Romanov’s timetable any more than he trusted the man himself. Guess I’m going to get to find out the hard way if Aiden was serious about taking Sloan’s word for it. “Don’t get any funny ideas, Dmitri. You fuck with me and I’ll kill you.” Jude disconnected before Dmitri could respond.

Sloan’s brothers wouldn’t hurt her, not in any permanent way. But Teague was already convinced that Jude had brainwashed her, twisting her will into his own. She was outmanned and outgunned, and she would be helpless if the tide of her family turned against her.

A slow burning started in his gut, working outward, scorching away every tendril of humanity Sloan had worked so fucking hard to bring out in him. He wouldn’t let them take her away from him. Wouldn’t let them decide the fate of his baby. He’d already lost too much. He wouldn’t lose her—them—too. Every instinct he had demanded he turn around and rush back to defend them, the Sheridans be damned. Up until a week ago, he’d been planning on killing Colm. What did they matter when weighed against the life of the woman he loved and their child?

I promised Sloan.

That he wouldn’t hurt Callista—or let her be hurt. That he’d stop Romanov. That he’d trust her to do what she needed to do. If he went back now, he’d be breaking her trust and potentially doing irreparable harm to their relationship.

Jude hesitated, torn, and then gritted his teeth and charged forward. He would keep his promise.

But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t weigh things a bit in his favor in the meantime.