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“So, when you mean take care of Declan, you mean…”
“Kill him,” I say point blank. Next to Harper, I have reason to want that son of a bitch dead more than anyone. He murdered my parents, just like he did hers, without remorse.
“Okay.” She sits up straighter in her chair and pushes her shoulders back. “So, how do we get to him then? He’s got to be well-protected. Not only that, he’s all the way in Ireland. There’s no way you guys can get into the country without him knowing, so we would have to get him here somehow. Right?”
She looks between us as we sit and stare at her. Pride swells in my chest. I said she would be helping us kill a man, not just any man, her grandfather, and she didn’t even flinch. Harper understands what needs to be done, that some people don’t deserve to walk the face of this earth. She understands that Declan Whelan has caused enough damage to her and everyone around him. Harper’s ready to do what needs to be done. Like a true fucking queen. Mac grins like a cheesy bastard beside her, and I hear Ronan huff out a heavy breath. Likely just as stunned as I am.
“That’s one of the reasons we want to speak to Patrick and gauge his reaction. If he despises Declan as much as we’ve heard, he may be able to help us get him into New York,” Ronan explains.
Harper taps her lips with her fingers, “Two more questions.”
“Shoot, Princess.”
“One. If Declan is gone, doesn’t that mean I would take over his syndicate? I’m the next in line, or whatever.”
“No, Baby. You would only take over if you wanted to. Any sane person knows it would be useless and disappointing to force someone to take over a business if they have no interest in it. Do you want to?”
“No. I want to stay here.”
All three of us share a quick glance at one another, too afraid to ask exactly where here is. Here in New York or here with us? We hope we know the answer.
“Exactly. What’s your other question, Baby?”
“Ummm… what about… what about your dad?”
“That’s where we seem to be a little bit stuck. One would hope that if Declan is out of the picture, he would stop caring about you. After all, the only reason he is trying to hand you to Declan is to get him to stop fucking us over and keep him away from the bookstore.”
“Don’t forget about the reward,” Mac adds.
“How could I fucking forget. The man is acting like he doesn’t have enough goddamn money as it is.” I swear there’s more tension in Ronan and Mac’s bodies from talking about their father than I have ever seen.
“We can solve the Declan problem, but that won’t stop him, Ronan. You know I’m right.” Mac’s anger rises, and I see the vein pulsing in his neck. He moves his hand from Harper’s leg for the first time since we’ve sat down and balls his hands into fists on the table. “He thinks we’re making some sort of mockery of him just because we’re not running things the way he would have. The only reason he stepped down is because people started doubting him because of their age. People started whispering behind their backs. He thought he was going to be able to control us. When he found out he couldn’t, he started pulling this kind of shit.”
Mac’s breathing is heavy, growing more and more agitated.
“I know, brother. I’m as done with him as you are.” Mac seems to relax slightly. “But what do we do? Kill him? Mum would never forgive us.”
Mac rubs a hand down his face, “I don’t fucking know, man, but I can’t keep doing this with him. I can’t keep letting him try to break us. Because one of these days, I think… I think he just might.” It’s a strange admission coming from Mac. From someone who has been trained to be nothing other than unbreakable. To be the one who breaks others. To be a killer.
I know neither one of them knows what to do. I know they’re at a loss. Quite frankly, so am I. Liam and Emma took me in. They gave me a life. So, how can I bring myself to take theirs? We sit and stare at each other, at a loss for words. Finally, Harper speaks, and her sweet voice fills the room. “We don’t have to figure that much out right now. Okay? We have a start with Declan. Hopefully, taking care of him will get your Dad off your backs for a little while until we can figure something else out.”
We. She said we. Maybe she wants to stay with us, not just in New York.
She reaches out and grabs one of Mac’s tightly closed fists. Instantly he opens his hand and intertwines his fingers with hers. Ronan follows Harper’s lead and puts his on his brother’s forearm. I do the same to Harper.
We all sit there like that for a while, offering our silent support to one another. Letting each other know that none of us are going anywhere. Because these are my brothers, they might not be by blood, but they are family in every other way that matters, and I would die before I let anything destroy them. And Harper, she’s my… well, I think she’s my person. I would do anything for her.
Suddenly a thought hits me like a freight train, stealing my breath away for a moment. I reach up with my opposite hand and rub the phrase I got tattooed on my chest after my parents died. The one that currently feels like a giant weight on my chest.
Teaghlach.
32
Harper
It’s just after eight o’clock, and I’m in the back reading rooms, stocking the coffee bar while Cece closes up the front.
As always, once I’m done in the last room, I take a moment to sit on the giant purple sofa and close my eyes. This is always my favorite part of the day. The store is quiet, the smell of old and new books floats through the air, and I have a smile on my face knowing that I spent the day helping others discover new and exciting worlds. It’s when I feel closest to them—my parents.
