Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
But he only shakes his head. “Violence,” he says and doesn’t elaborate.
We drift into silence. His breathing steadies, and soon I’m sure he’s asleep. The man must be exhausted from what happened, and I can feel his tension even in his sleep.
The guilt won’t leave me alone though, and closing my eyes does nothing but let my mind wander.
The notebook on his bedside table is full of things I know about the family. Details, relationships, names and addresses.
But it’s missing one crucial detail.
I’ve kept this close to my heart, hidden down beneath layers of denial and disassociation. Memories are malleable and they can be molded and tricked if you try hard enough.
There’s one memory I’ve kept locked away.
One fact I didn’t tell Kellen.
And now I wonder if I should tell him what I know about his father’s death.
Chapter 15
Kellen
Every part of me aches as I limp down the hallway with Tara at my elbow. Every step makes my ribs burn and I have about a dozen different bruises scattered down my body. My ears are still ringing from the nightmare cacophony of gunshots that tore my club to pieces.
I keep seeing those guys kick down the door. Ski masks, guns blazing. My men fought back the best they could, but there was no way we all could’ve gotten out alive, not with an ambush like that. Still, I’m proud of the way my crew fought off the attack, and we lived to take revenge.
“Are you sure about this?” Tara asks, gripping my arm tightly.
“Finn, Rory, and Angus are nearby, plus I’ve been stacking the staff with my own loyal people. I even snuck a few cleaning people onto this wing, just in case. We’re as safe in the mansion as we’re ever going to be.”
She nods to herself but slows her pace. “I know that, it’s only, I feel like this is the definition of poking the bear.”
I turn and face her. “Hugh tried to kill me last night.”
“Right, I know, but—”
“There’s no but.” I tighten my jaw and grip her shoulders. She bites her lip and breathes fast, and fuck, if I weren’t so goddamn beat up right now, I’d kiss her deep and take her body right here in this hallway. She looks so sexy when she’s terrified.
Except I have work to do and I can’t let her distract me. Not too much anyway.
“I’m just worried, is all.” She looks down at the floor, and her worry floods my heart with something soft and warm, a feeling I’m not familiar with.
“I know you are, but I can’t let this go unanswered. Hugh decided to escalate things when he tried to take me out, and I can’t let him get away with it and still maintain the respect of my men.”
“You don’t have to talk to his dad about it though. It just feels wrong.”
I chuckle and start walking again. She hurries to keep pace. “Uncle Cormac isn’t some sweet old man. I know he’s a little eccentric and he and Aunt Irene don’t leave their wing much, but Cormac’s a wily old fox and he’s still very much a part of the Hayle family. He can pretend like he retired, but men in our line of work don’t ever leave the business, not with all the secrets we know. You either die or you keep on going. That means he knows what’s going on, and we shouldn’t feel bad about confronting him on it.”
She doesn’t argue as we push through a set of French doors that lead into another hallway. This one is slightly different—the carpeting is lighter and the paintings on the walls are of flowers and trees in expressionist bright colors. There’s patterned wallpaper and more statues placed in every corner, but most of those are abstract shapes made from glass with glittering stones studded all over them. It looks like a house from a ‘70s movie complete with a futuristic aesthetic.
Cormac and his wife, Irene, moved into the mansion years ago, back when I was a little kid. They took over a big chunk of the house and my father more or less left them alone. Cormac was the number two in the family for a long time, but he stepped back around the time that Cait died, just as Hugh was beginning his ascendency. I always suspected that Cormac had a hand in his son’s rise, but it was never something we talked about openly.
I stop outside of their main sitting room and knock. I wait a few seconds for a young staff member to answer the door and usher me and Tara over to some couches. “Would you like anything to drink?” the young man asks. He’s handsome in a boyish way and probably in his teens. “Tea, water, soda?”
“No, thank you,” I say and Tara shakes her head. The young man nods, says to wait, and leaves the room.