Page 85 of Inflict

“I thought you needed to see—”

“Aye, but what does it matter? I can deal with your foolish self on another day.”

Connor blew out a slow breath, glancing at the dashboard clock and noting the time. He wasn’t running particularly late on his father’s time. Unless it was a Tuesday, Sean didn’t make much effort to get out of his own house before noon. It was unusual for Sean to call him, demand his presence, and then retract it later, as it if it weren’t important to begin with.

Something wasn’t right here.

Connor could feel it in his bones.

He’d wanted to see his father face to face, to gauge if Sean thought he knew something about Evelyn’s current whereabouts, or better yet, did know and was planning something. He also had planned on looking for any signs his father had been the one to leave Danny’s dead body on his business’s back doorstep earlier.

Connor couldn’t do those things over the phone—not properly. Sean was a born and bred liar; that was in his very blood. It was exactly who he was, and he did it exceptionally well. But he was also Connor’s father, and sometimes, it was easier for him to notice his father’s tells when the man was lying, rather than overlook them like most people did.

Feck.

He couldn’t help but be suspicious that this could also be a part of Sean’s plan. That perhaps his father believed Connor was waking up, and getting on to Sean’s tricks and games, whatever they happened to be. And so, demanding his presence, then dropping it just as fast, was simply a way to … get him out of the way, so to speak.

Connor tried to relax, if nothing else, to keep the irritation and suspicion out of his tone for the next words he spoke. He wasn’t sure he succeeded, considering his molars ached from how hard his jaw was clenching.

“All right,” Connor said, “then give me a call when you need to see me.”

“Do a fine job today, Connor, and I won’t need to see you.”

“You didn’t tell me what the job was, Sean.”

“I don’t need to. You’ll find out soon enough. They only needed an extra pair of hands, remember, and I’m sure you’ll recognize who is who once you get where you need to go.”

With that, his father hung up the call without another word. Connor wasn’t all too surprised. Sean had never been particularly good with a proper greeting or dismissal, unless he wanted something and needed to pretend to be slightly pleasant.

Feckin’ prick.

Connor drove for another two minutes before he was reaching for his phone again, the nagging feeling poked at his gut over and over like a hot branding iron. He dialed a familiar number, and waited for Killian to pick up on his end.

Thankfully, he didn’t take long.

“Dia dhuit,” Killian greeted, his usual chipper attitude coming off false and strained.

“It’s just me,” Connor said.

A hard breath crackled the phone’s speakers. “Kinda busy here, Connor.”

“Yeah, me too, you feckin’ eejit.”

“Considering I’m in the process of handling a mess that was probably left for you, which of us do you think is busier?”

“I’m not getting into that fight, arsehole,” Connor replied blithely.

“Weren’t you heading over to the boss’s?”

“Stuff changed.” Connor glared at the road ahead of him, adding, “And I’m not even sure why.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

“Did your help show up?”

“Already here, and we’re gone.”

“Grand. Let them do whatever, I need you for something else. It’s important, and I need you to do it alone, if you get my feckin’ drift.”