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Kieran shot out of his seat, nearing Bryan. “Our brother is gone, and you’d rather not fucking say?”
I stepped in front of Kieran, keeping my focus on the Murray kid. “Where can I find her?”
“I’m not sure she’ll be comfortable meeting with you.” Bryan eyed me with evident worry. “She’s in deep.”
“I don’t give a fuck what she’s comfortable with!” I was starting to lose my sanity. Minute by minute, I was slipping, letting the rage take over. This was why Connor handled leadership. I was too volatile, too unpredictable. “Tell her to meet me at Roisin’s at six this evening. If she objects, drag her ass in there yourself, Murray.”
Bryan nodded obediently, turning to leave. I shot a text to update Arthur, Connor’s first lieutenant who had refused to blink until my brother was found, then began instructing the remaining men. We were going to tear this city apart brick by brick. My father and his men were searching Boston, but I had a feeling Connor was closer to home.
Chapter Four
Emma
Shannon fell asleep on the couch a little before six. I grabbed a blanket from a nearby ladder shelf and laid it over her misshapen form, then cleaned the kitchen. Guillermo had left earlier, but I’d reheated tikka masala and urged Shannon to eat some of it. Her color had been making me nervous.
That wasn’t the sole root of my anxiety. In Santorini, Jack had told Kieran to organize a meeting. But he’d left hours ago. Why wasn’t he back yet? Why hadn’t I heard from him? They obviously hadn’t found Connor. He would’ve called Shannon to let her know.
The elevator dinged and I jogged toward it. My heart thrummed in anticipation, the need to see Jack overtaking my exhaustion. But when the doors slid open, a tall, leggy woman stood behind them. She wore a form-fitting blue dress and heels so high they would kill me if I tried to move in them. She was striking, with bright green eyes, auburn hair and glossy lips.
“Where’s Shannon?” she asked, her voice low and throaty. She made her way into the foyer, walking past without so much as a glance in my direction. Her heels clicked on the marble, vibrating my eardrums.
“Sleeping,” I whispered. I let my manners slip as I added, “Who the fuck are you?”
The woman turned, facing me. Her smile was sultry, her unapproving gaze skimming over my body. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Emma M-Marshall,” I stammered, her challenge catching me off guard.
She wasn’t an enemy of the O’Connell family if security had let her up here—the Shannon building was well guarded—but this woman also didn’t appear friendly. By her pixie features and fire-hued hair, she wasn’t related to the brothers. Then that must mean—
“I’m Faye Walsh,” she announced with authority. “Shannon’s aunt.”
“You look more like a sister,” I mumbled.
How old was Faye? Thirty? That was impossible. Shannon’s parents died in a car accident when she was nine. She had been raised by her Aunt Faye, although she had told me Faye was a little wild and rarely home. I’d been picturing someone older with a bad dye job and cigarette breath. Not this…goddess.
Faye winked at me. “Good genes. Are you the housekeeper?”
My mouth popped open at her blatant disrespect. I was about to tell her off when I realized I was holding a dirty dishtowel. I set it on the entrance table, choosing to give her the benefit of the doubt.
I forced a sweet smile onto my lips. “I’m with Jack.”
Faye’s immaculate eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, the disbelief evident on her face. “Jack O’Connell?”
“That’s the one.” Sarcasm dripped from my words. I didn’t like this woman. If I had fur, it’d be standing on end.
Faye laughed, but it wasn’t joyful. “Jackie Boy got himself a girlfriend?”
I narrowed my eyes, refusing to respond. I was fully aware that Jack had been a womanizer before me. He’d never kept a girl around for longer than a day, which resulted in many one-night stands. He had broken the mold with me, but what the hell did Faye know about him? She’d stayed in Boston when Shannon and the brothers had moved to Manhattan five years ago.
“Well, I wouldn’t get too attached, sweetheart,” she cooed, her eyes wide like she cared about my feelings. I was under the impression that this woman didn’t care about anything other than herself.
My spine stiffened. “Why’s that?”
“I just ran into Jack downstairs in the restaurant. He had his arm around some pretty brunette. A little skanky in my opinion, but who am I to judge?”
My jaw dropped, but I recovered. “Keep an eye on your niece.”
She chuckled darkly as I scooped my cell phone off the glass entry table. I stepped into the private elevator and jammed the button for the lobby over and over, forcing the doors to close.
