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“There has to be a way to draw Finnian out.” I hunch over my beer, shaking my head.
“You let me know if you figure it out because I’ve been trying everything. The guy’s a fucking ghost.” Carlo nudges me with his elbow. “Come on, cheer up. Dante says you got some new chick you’re fucking?”
I sit very still. “Dante said that?”
“Yeah, there was some rumor about you and a girl. I didn’t ask for details. Dante said it was no big deal. What’s her name?”
I grunt in reply, not looking at him. I don’t want to lie to my brothers if I can avoid it. Keeping Molly from them is bad enough, but actively spinning bullshit is a line I can’t cross. Although it is a little heartening to hear that Dante really did look out for me.
“Don’t worry about her,” I tell him and stand up. I drink half my beer and leave the rest on the ruined bar. “She’s just some girl.”
“Whatever you say, bro.” Carlo follows my lead. Together, we head back outside into the comfortable summer evening. Dante’s standing by the cars, still on the phone. Rossi soldiers are milling around and I pull a few aside and start giving them orders. Get the place cleaned up, deal with the body. They swarm into action, used to this sort of shit by now.
I want to go home. It’s a strange feeling. Under other circumstances, I’d be ready to roll out with my men. Hell, I might even look forward to the hunt.
Now, all I can think about is how it’ll affect Molly.
What would she do if I died tonight? We’re not married. None of my assets would be hers. And my kid? He’d grow up without a daddy.
Fucked how my world’s suddenly much more complicated.
“Saul,” Carlo calls out, standing halfway inside of a truck. “We got a tip. Some of our boys spotted the car. You coming?”
I look at him and take a deep breath. I feel myself torn in half. On the one side, there’s Molly’s husband, father of our child, and on the other, the man I’ve always been, loyal to my family and willing to do whatever it takes to further their interests.
“Coming,” I grunt at him and climb into the passenger side.
* * *
The sun’s rising when I limp back home. I stink like sweat, blood, and alcohol. Half my body’s bruised and my mouth tastes like dirt. I try to be quiet as I shuffle up the steps and into the bathroom, but the sound of the shower must wake her up, because Molly’s awake when I slip into bed beside her.
She stares, her eyes wide. “Saul? What happened?”
“Got in a little scrape.” I try not to look at her. I don’t want her to worry. But fuck, it was a bad one.
We tracked down the Irishmen that shot up our strip club, but they’d gotten back up by then, and it turned out we rolled right into their trap. We got lucky and outnumbered them, but the fighting was intense and I took a few good hits before it was all over. My left eye is bruised and my ribs feel like someone tried to kick them in. Which is actually what happened.
“Let me see.” Molly gently pushes me onto my back and sucks in a breath as she prods at my face. “You need a doctor.”
“I’m fine.” I catch her hand and hold it tight. “I promise, baby.”
She chews her lip. I let her go and she continues to explore, her hands pulling up my shirt. I suck in a breath and she sighs when she sees the bruising, but this time, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she rubs my sore muscles gently, pushing me onto my side, her breasts against my back as her hands massage my arms and shoulder.
“Is this what I have to look forward to?” she whispers, her mouth warm against my ear. I’m fucking hard as she continues to touch me, tender and worried. I can feel her heart racing against my spine. “You’re going to come home a total mess all the time?”
“Not all the time,” I say, smiling a little. It feels fucking good to have someone touching me right now. Before her, I had to deal with this shit all on my own. I’d suffer alone in my bed, nobody around to give a shit about me, nobody to make sure I didn’t end up dying from some internal bleeding I didn’t even know about. She’s strangely tender, and I like it.
“Warn me, okay? I know you said you want to keep your other life away from me for a while, but at least warn me.”
“Why? So you can worry?”
“I want to prepare myself. Saul—you look like someone tried to kill you.”
I turn around to face her and brush some hair from her forehead. “Someone did try to kill me. War, remember?”
“I know, but?—”
“I’m fine. Really. I’m fine. Everything’s good.” I glance at the clock and sigh, my eyes closing. “I’m sorry I woke you so early.”
