“You can take the time off. If Sloan says you can—”
“I can’t.” Terrance huffed. “Not all of us can fuck our way into safety, Conall.”
Terrance’s words stung and they hit right where it hurt the most, and he knew that—it’s why he said such a nasty insult in the first place.
“Fuck. I didn’t mean—”
“You fucking did so.” Conall snorted. “Might I remind you that I fucked my way into keeping you safe too. I’m the only reason Sloan didn’t slit your throat. I’m also the only reason why you’re still running the Virtue.”
“Half running it.”
“It’s better than nothing.”
Fuck him. Conall might enjoy what Sloan does to him now, but he hadn’t in the beginning, or at least, he pretended he hadn’t. Conall had done things for Terrance that his brother might never have done for him in return.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Conall said angrily. His fingers tightened around his phone. “You only want to keep the boss’s pet happy. What the fuck, Terrance? You don’t think I’m trying my best here? Tell me what you want. Do you want Tormey out of there? I can talk to Sloan—”
“No!” Terrance interrupted. “There’s nothing wrong with Rourke Tormey. I’m just… pissed off with everything right now. I’ve talked to you twice since you were taken and I haven’t seen you since then. I don’t even know what kind of injuries you have. Why the hell hasn’t he let me see you?”
It all made sense now. As much as Terrance had tried to brush it off, he’d had his protective big brother moments. Conall had told Sloan that he and Terrance only had each other since their dad died. Without Conall there, Terrance probably felt useless and lonely. He was also a stubborn workaholic though, just like their father.
He smiled at himself in the mirror. “He’s worried. We killed the Italians who took me, but Sloan has more than one kind of enemy.”
“Maybe… maybe you should come home. For good. I can talk to the boss and help him find another pet. I’ll tell him I need you here with me.”
The thought of Sloan sharing his bed with another man made Conall’s stomach churn and acid rose in his throat. His free hand curled into a fist beside his thigh and he closed his eyes to stop himself from blurting out something that’d give his obvious jealousy away. He couldn’t let Terrance see that side of him because as far as his brother was concerned, Conall was still there to make Sloan happy so he wouldn’t kill them.
“No.” He said it as calmly as he could, but he didn’t sound convincing to himself. Hopefully Terrance wouldn’t pick up on the lie. “This is fine. You said it yourself, it keeps us safe.”
“But you’re not safe there, Conall. They took you because of who you are to the boss. I don’t… I can’t see you hurt.”
Conall smiled. “It won’t happen again. Sloan will make sure of it. Now stop changing the topic. Miami for Christmas. What do you say?”
“I really can’t.” There was a squeak on the other end of the line, like Terrance had fallen back into that leather chair of his. “I’m too busy here.”
Words formed in Conall’s head where he told Terrance that hewantedhim there because Christmas was for family. He stayed quiet instead. He and Terrance didn’t talk emotions. They’d grown up in a strict household where they’d been taught to bemen, and men didn’t feel.
Terrance continued, “You wouldn’t believe what big players Rourke managed to get into the Virtue.”
Conall tuned him out. He casually asked questions with no real interest in the answers. Sloan was right, the Virtue wasn’t his home anymore, and the longer he stayed away, the more he began to realize that. As much as he wanted to see Terrance and Forrest again, he didn’t have the pulling desire to return like he had when he first came to Sloan’s mansion. Now, he preferred to cuddle up in the comfortable king-sized bed with his mob boss and maybe get a few spankings before Sloan fucked him roughly.
By the time he was done talking with Terrance, Conall felt a strange sense of emptiness, so he decided that he needed to drive it out of his system. He headed to the large garage at the back of the house, Ronan right behind him. Ronan didn’t talk to him much anymore, even though Sloan had thanked him for staying with Conall and protecting him through the whole kidnapping adventure. Conall had tried bringing up high school, but all he got was a sad smile and silence in answer. He hadn’t talked to Sloan about it and if Sloan noticed the silent treatment Ronan was giving Conall, he didn’t say anything.
Conall walked through the inch of melting snow that covered the normally green lawn, his thick boots mashing into the sludge. He’d taken a heavy jacket with him and pulled on a pair of jeans. A lazy, cold wind fluttered through the air, but not enough to whip at the dead trees.
The garage offered warmth when he stepped inside, Ronan at his heels. Conall grabbed the keys from Jonas, their car guy, or that’s what Conall called him. He didn’t know if Jonas actually had a job title. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure, sir. They’re predicting a storm today. Are you sure taking the car is a good idea?” Jonas eyed him carefully, his big doe gaze filled with worry. Over the last six months, Conall had grown to know the staff on Sloan’s roster. Most of them weren’t criminals, but rather normal people who wanted to earn a decent living, and Sloan paid well. Jonas was a car enthusiast who did a brilliant job at maintaining Sloan’s collection.
Conall frowned down at the keys and curled his fingers around them. “How bad are they saying?”
“About seven inches throughout the day.” Jonas winced. “Sorry, sir. I just worry that you’ll have an accident out there.”
“Don’t apologize.” He glanced at Ronan, who bowed his head slightly, acknowledging that it was Conall’s choice.
Conall was many things, but not an idiot. He was no daredevil and it wasn’t in his personality to put other people’s lives at risk. Sighing, he handed Jonas the keys back.
