7. Declan

"She's safe?"he asks, the accent he's gotten so good at hiding sneaks out nonetheless.

"Aye. I've been sitting in front of this fucking brothel for days now. She doesn't leave," I tell Lorcán.

"I should come and get her. It's not worth the risk of leaving her there. Anthony is on a tirade trying to find her."

"I've been keeping an eye out, Lorc. Not a single Guido in sight. Are you sure you're ready to face the music, anyway?"

He sighs over the phone. Lorcán is my longest-standing friend, and knowing both him and Cillian are so fucked over the doe-eyed blonde has me curious. It's why I've been camped out in front of this building for the last few days. Not to mention the boss, Seamus, is nearly positive that his son is going to fuck this all up.

"What did Seamus say?" He notably doesn't call him his father; I suppose I don't blame him.

"Considering she's meant to be shared between us, that we need to figure it out and not fuck up his business on the West Coast? As long as we don't cause any waves, he doesn't care. Anthony will more than likely be taken care of, so your schemes of double agent can finally come to an end."

He laughs over the phone.

"Why didn't Cillian or Finn call me?" he asks, and I shrug, even though he can't see me while sitting on my camping chair. People glare, but when I glare right back, they keep walking by.

"Aw, feeling jilted by your half-brothers?" I croon.

"Fuck off, Declan."

"Ah, so I should leave the blondie to her own devices. I could be knuckles deep right now, you know?"

Lorcán sighs heavily into my ear. "She's supposed to be yours too, Declan."

Sure, I'm part of the deal, but only because Seamus doesn't want his sons to fuck up his entire empire. I'm not sure why he thinks throwing me into the mix will somehow make a difference. Maybe to keep the peace or be the voice of reason, but I'm not even sure I'm good at that.

"As much as I beat off all the ladies with a stick, I don't see me meaning much to this one."

"You haven't met her," he replies, irritation clear in his tone.

"Ah, well, luckily for me, I have a brain instead of a knot."

"Oh, fuck off."

"See, I could be doing that, but I'm here in a Coleman camping chair, drinking a coffee that certainly isn't decaf, watching your Italian princess."

"You'll call me if she leaves?"

"What are you going to do, mate? She'll probably run away thinking you're trying to take her back to her brother."

"She's going to hate me," he groans.

"Aye," I agree.

"Fuck off."

"I would, but a tall blonde wearing a Knights hat and massive fucking sunglasses just walked out of the High Roller."

I hang up before the lovesick idiot can reply. I snap my fingers at the man who calls himself Gus and pull a hundred out of my wallet.

"Watch my shit," I demand, holding out the crisp bill. He sits his dirty ass in my camping chair as I follow the Omega, who's trying to go undetected.

She looks nervous, and it's hard to keep up with her among the throngs of people walking down the strip. I keep a close eye on her, following her to… the pharmacy?

She waits in line, and I nonchalantly browse the condom aisle as I listen to her conversation. Her birthday is October twenty-ninth, and she is attempting to pick up her suppressants.

"Your insurance was kicked back, I'm sorry, Miss Amante," the pharmacist says, and Elena shuffles around, uncomfortable about her last name being said so loud. Talk about a fucking HIPAA violation.

"What about out of pocket?"

"It will be eight hundred dollars and forty-eight cents without insurance."

"Seriously? Okay, fine. I'll pay out of pocket."

"We can have it in stock in four days."

"Four days? But I'm out," Elena squeaks. The pharmacist looks her up and down, showing no sympathy.

The poor thing, her brother is a moron for canceling her insurance. He could have seen where she filled her prescription and found her that way. Just another tick in the box that the man doesn't hold a candle to his father.

"There's a shortage."

"How can there be a shortage? Is there a suppressant farm somewhere drying up? I don't understand."

"You wouldn't," the pharmacist snarks.

Elena clenches the counter, looking like she's about to jump over and beat the woman's arse. I smile to myself, liking that she isn't the docile little creature Lorcán or Cillian made her out to be. She has some fight in her, that's good.

She's frustrated, and I don't know why I can't help myself. I walk up to her and toss an arm around her shoulder. Her body goes still immediately, and she looks over at me.

"Ah, there you are, love. Do we have a problem?"

"No, next in line," the pharmacist dismisses. I give her a smile and lead Elena down the tampon aisle.

"Who are you?" she whispers. Ah, not so tough after all. Yet, I find myself not wanting her to be afraid of me.

"Someone who can help you with your little problem."

I remove my arm from her shoulder, and she sighs in relief before wrapping her arms around herself.

"What are you, a drug dealer or something? I'm not buying suppressants off the street," she warns. There's that sassy Italian princess Lorcán can't shut the fuck up about.

"No, but I have a connection. What brand do you need?"

She shakes her head and starts to walk away from me. I am not a fan of her dismissing me—at all.

"Listen, I'm not tryin' to poison ya."

"Then what do you want?"

"To take down big pharma and the corrupt men who are filling their pockets with the money of the sick and hungry," I reply plainly.

The corner of her mouth twitches, but she shakes her head.

"I'll just go to a different pharmacy."

"You'll have to call up your physician and get the script transferred, who knows how long that will take," I point out, picking up a box labeled as a menstrual cup. I shrug my shoulders as I look at the branding before putting it back.

"You're quite strange," she comments.

"The best minds are," I tell her with a smile that she returns.

A dimple forms on the left side of her mouth when she smiles, and I can't help but find it charming. I'm starting to realize what all the fuss is about, and I'm not sure how I feel about that.

"Where do you get them from?" she asks, and I know I have her hooked.

"Depends, you never told me the brand."

"Kelcinon," she replies.

"Top-shelf shit right there."

I hold my wrist out, looking at my watch, the pharmacy closes in an hour.

"Do you have an hour and a half to spare?"

She looks around. She's clearly uncomfortable, not liking being in such a crowded place. Part of me is bothered by the fact that she's specifically running from me, yet she has no idea. I'm starting to see why Cillian wants it to be her choice. It's kind of a karmic justice to make her fall for the men she ran away from.

"There's a hole in the wall Thai place right down the street, if you"re keen."

She bites her plush bottom lip. She should say no to me, but maybe she can read that I mean her no harm. Or maybe she just has no fucking self-preservation.

"You can really get them today?" she asks, and I nod my head. "Alright, but just so you know, I have a taser in my purse, and I'm sharing my location with my brother."

Little liar.

I grin at her and nod my head towards the exit. "That's smart. You never know what kind of eejits are walking around on the strip these days."

Neither of us mentions our designations, and I wonder if she finds as much comfort in it as I do. I enjoy being a Beta; I'm not driven by anything but my own instincts and wants. But that doesn't mean that it hasn't been hard to succeed in my line of work. There's also a lot of pressure being placed on the pack that is to become the future leader of the Irish mobs' west coast operations.

She wears her hideous sunglasses and keeps her head down as we walk to the Thai place. At one point, I have to grab the sleeve of her sweater so she doesn't get lost in a throng of people.

When she sees how dark and fairly vacant the place is, she seems to calm down. We place our orders, and I pull out my phone.

Me: Which one of you bastards is free to rob a pharmacy?

Finn: No.

Cillian: Why can't you do it yourself?

Lorcán: I'm busy.

Me: Our little Italian problem has run out of suppressants. Her stupid brother cut off her insurance, and the cunt of a pharmacist told her it would be four days.

Cillian: And you know all of this how?

Me: Are you free or not?

Finn: What brand?

Me: Kelcinon

Finn: I'll send Rory out to do it. Send him the location.

Me: ?? You're the best, boss.

Finn: Fuck off.

Me: ?? I love when you talk dirty to me.

Cillian: Wait, let's go back to why you're with Elena.

Me: We're on a date. I didn't even have to pay her to spend time with me.

"What has you smiling like that?" Elena asks, making me put my phone down.

"Just my contact. They shouldn't take too long. What happened with your insurance?" I ask, wondering how much she's willing to tell me.

"My dad just passed away not that long ago, it must have lapsed with him," she answers softly with a sigh.

"Sorry to hear about your da."

"Thanks, are you visiting Vegas?" she questions, not outright asking where I'm from or about my accent.

"Just moved here from Ireland. It's quite the place."

"I imagine it's a lot different from what you're used to."

The server brings us our drinks, and she toys with the umbrella in hers.

"Very different," I reply.

"Do you miss it? Do you miss home?" she asks, her pretty blue eyes boring into mine.

"Aye. Though Vegas is proving not to be so bad. But home will always be home."

She nods her head as she picks apart the straw wrapper.

"So are you a drug dealer, or?" she blurts out, and I laugh and shake my head.

"I just have connections. Looked like you were hard up, and thought I could help. No, I'm in mitigation," I explain.

"Mitigation?"

"Figuring out problems before they become problems."

"Do you like it?"

"Sometimes it's not so bad. Keeping a bunch of grown men in line can be tiresome."

She tilts her head and inspects me. It damn near feels like she's digging into my soul and dredging out my secrets.

Our food comes, and we eat in silence. She glances up at me every so often but doesn't speak.

When the server comes with our check, she attempts to grab the bill, and I click my tongue.

"But you're helping me out. The least I can do is get you dinner," she offers.

"My ma' would shoot me in the head for letting a woman pay for the meal. Absolutely not."

"Is your mom still alive?" she asks.

"Yes, she moved here with me."

"That's nice." She smiles kindly, but there's sadness behind her eyes. " You haven't said your name or asked for mine."

"Declan," I tell her. She tilts her head when I don't ask for hers.

My phone vibrates, and it's Rory dropping off her medication.

"Give me a moment," I say before going through the restaurant and out the back door to grab the brown bag from Rory.

"Boss had me triple-check that everything was legit," Rory informs, handing me the bag.

Finn might not truly want Elena, but he also doesn't like anyone disrespecting his belongings.

"Thanks."

Rory gives me a nod. But when I get back to the table, Elena is already gone.

Fuck.