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“We’re the only two people who know it.” He raked his hand through my hair, pushing one side over my shoulder, then gave me a feather-light kiss. My lips tickled where his brushed mine. “Take this.”
He removed a black Amex from the pocket of his slacks and put it in my hand. The prestigious credit card felt heavier than it should.
“I don’t—”
“Each of these has a million in cash.” Jack gestured toward the five silver briefcases sitting next to the pile of gold. “If you need more, I’ve left a business card for my finance officer next to your sink in the bathroom.”
My breathing grew erratic. “Jack, you’re scaring me.”
He wrapped his arms around my smaller frame, tugging me to him, pinning my hands against his iron chest. He smelled heavenly. Woodsy, smoky, rainy. Like a thunderstorm.
“I have to take my brother home,” he murmured into my hair, his words choked.
He was talking about Connor’s body. “To Boston?”
He shook his head, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “Ireland.”
“I’ll pack a bag.”
He dropped his hands to my hips. “I can’t bring you with me, dove. I need you to take care of Shannon.”
Tears welled in the corners of my eyes. “She has Faye.”
“Faye is unreliable at best. Shannon needs someone like you by her side right now.”
He was right, of course. Shannon hadn’t spoken since that fateful night. She just stared into space. She would eat or drink, but only if someone set it in front of her. She would sleep if someone tucked her into bed, but she was vacant. It was torture to look at her. For the first two days, the one person she had allowed in her room had been her aunt, which concerned me. I didn’t trust Faye to see to the needs of a grieving, pregnant woman.
Reluctantly, I nodded. Jack cupped my face in his hands, the gauze on his knuckles scratching my cheek.
“I know I’m asking too much of you, as usual,” he started. When I began to protest, he continued with renewed vigor. “But I need you to do one more thing for me.”
“Anything.”
“Please, for the love of God, keep yourself safe. Don’t go anywhere alone. Always use a driver. Don’t take the subway. I’m leaving Eoghan under your command.”
I’d already assumed Jack knew more about what had happened to his brother than he let on. There was still a threat out there. Whoever had mutilated Connor hadn’t been caught. No one knew just how the culprit—or culprits—had caught Connor unaware, and the vehicle that had been found in Brownsville had been wiped clean. The FBI was looking into it now. Connor’s was the fourth body to turn up in such a way. It was a miracle the media hadn’t caught on yet.
Jack held my hand as we exited the panic room. The code had to be entered to get out once the door had shut. He locked it behind us but made me reopen it. He wanted to be positive I knew how to get myself in and out. If I got stuck inside, there was a button I could push, but it would ping the entire mob. They would show up in tactical gear, seeking to neutralize a threat. The image of them descending just to find me trapped in the room was mortifying. There was no way I’d forget the code.
When we got back into his bedroom, the lights inside the apartment were still off. The reflection of the city shone in Jack’s dilated pupils, desperation blanketing his features.
“I have an hour.”
I was already slipping out of my pencil skirt. Jack was quick to undress himself, then helped me with the buttons on my blouse. The care he took in getting me to bed was slow and methodical. His lips danced over mine as he positioned himself above me. He lowered his body, his erection pressing into my belly. His hands moved like honey, slow and sweet, caressing my skin. He kissed me everywhere, setting my senses ablaze, not an inch of skin going untouched.
Each time Jack entered me, it was a new experience. Sometimes I got his darkness, his demons. Other times, he was playful, lighter. He challenged me, his approach to sex changing like a mood ring. I was obsessed with every emotion he gave, because he rarely graced anyone else with so much as a second glance.
But I wasn’t sure I liked this form of fucking. It wasn’t rough, or caring or anything in between. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps it was everything in between. When he finally slid into me, our breathing was fast, but he kept the pace slow. Like he never wanted it to end.
This was a goodbye.
The intensity built as Jack moved his cock in and out, in and out. He kept his hooded gaze on mine, rotating his hips to massage my most sensitive areas. His gaze flitted across my features, committing them to memory.
I bit my lip, telling myself not to let the tears fall. Even if he could see them pooling in the corners of my eyes, I would wait until he left. I didn’t want his parting memory of me to be one of sadness. The entire week had been one long grievance.
Let him have this moment.
Hell, let me have this moment.
