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“How long have you known about me?”
“A decade.”
That rocked through me.
“And you never thought to make contact?”
“I never needed to.”
I realised how lucky I was to have Loch and now Amy at my side. Without them, I might have been a soulless bastard like this man.
“What’s your name?” I set my gun on the table.
There was no point in pretending I would shoot him.
“Not the one that Ma gave me. I was never a Patrick. Rik, maybe, but no. My name is Mason.”
Patrick and Anna were the names she wept over even before she lost her mind.
All this time, he survived. They called Mason – my brother, the Surgeon. He hid many of his mob kills as the work of a serial killer.
“Why the theatrics with the stitches?”
He smiled. “Distraction. It began as an accident. A client wanted the liver. Fuck knows what for, but I stitched him back up. I didn’t want intestines all over my body bag. After a while, it became useful if I wanted to dispose of a body. Blame it on a serial killer. The men I killed weren’t missed and never connected. It’s kept them guessing for years.” He smirked.
“Smart.”
The amusement drained from his eyes. “You killed Connall.”
“I did.”
“Good. I saw Mother.”
“You visited her?”
“No, just from afar. I don’t think her fractured mind could take a visit.”
I nodded because I agreed. Ma probably wouldn’t recognise him, but nothing good would come from it.
He stood abruptly. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to the States. I’ve got one more pig to roast.”
Walking with him to the entrance was a surreal experience.
“Maybe one day we can have that beer.”
I nodded at him and watched him walk off down the drive. That was weird as fuck. My highly trained guard dogs nuzzled him as they trotted by his side. Bloody traitors. I found out two things tonight. I had a brother, and I needed a complete security upgrade.
35
The sunlight glinted off Sean’s dark hair.
“I do,” he replied, his green eyes burning into mine.
My chest burst with joy as he smirked at me, and that damn dimple popped out.
