Page 53 of Inflict

“And don’t bother her. You’re just here to keep an eye on things until I get home.”

“You’re not going to tell me a feckin’ thing about the lass, are yeah?”

Connor kept his face blank. “Nothing to tell, boyo.”

“That’s a lie if I ever heard one.”

“Better you don’t know,” Connor replied simply, hoping his friend would take the hint and drop it. “Leave it at that.”

“Sometimes, it’s good to know what I’m dealing with. I’ve got enough feckin’ problems with your arse of a father, all right? Don’t go adding to it, gobshite.”

“What is it they say? Do as I say, not as I do?”

“Just tell me if this might get me whacked.”

“Not if you keep quiet about her being here.”

Killian snorted, then sobered as he passed a quiet Evelyn another look. “Well, she better be worth whatever you’re doing. And she is quiet. Is binn béal ina thost, Connor.”

Yes, quiet mouths certainly were sweet.

“Touch her,” Connor said lowly as he passed Killian to leave, “and I’ll feckin’ kill you.”

His friend didn’t reply.

He really didn’t need to.

The warning—promise—was clear.

“Could I at least get her name?” Killian asked over his shoulder.

Connor laughed darkly. “No.”

• • •

Instead of the usual meeting place every Tuesday—The Morning Glory Pub—this week was different. Sean still wanted Connor to meet up at the same time in the morning, but at his childhood home, and not the pub.

Connor expected to find just his father at the house, and maybe Sean’s right-hand, Lachlan. That wasn’t the case. Three other men, not including Sean and Lachlan, crowded around the kitchen table, some sipping from cups of black coffee, while others nursed glasses of whiskey.

None gave Connor a second glance as he stepped into the kitchen, except his father, who sat in one of the two captain chairs at the head of the table.

“Lad,” Sean greeted, “there’s a spread, if you’re hungry.”

Connor wasn’t interested. “No, thanks.”

“Harry needed the week off for something or other, and his lass can only run the pub at night,” Sean explained. “Here we are.”

“Bit loud.”

Sean nodded, his eagle-eye keeping a close watch on his men and his son at the same time. It was just as unnerving as it always was, except more so, because Connor actually had something to hide this time around.

“You can head up to the office,” Sean said with a flick of his wrist in Connor’s direction, “and I’ll be up in a minute or two.”

Connor didn’t need to be told again. While he didn’t mind occasionally joining in on conversations with his father’s men to gain information to pass along to Sean, he certainly didn’t enjoy breaking bread or drinking with the men. It was too casual—too friendly.

He was neither.

Not with them.