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“You’ll what?” I ask with a frown.
“I’ll speak to her. I won’t hurt her. Promise. Not unless she attacks me first, anyway.”
“Then I’ll stay here. I’ll talk to her,” I protest.
Shane stares at me as though I have just asked him to give me his kidney. In fact, he’d probably be more receptive to giving me one of his vital organs. “Fuck no. Not a chance.”
“Why not?”
“Because you can’t be trusted around her.”
“What?” I scowl at him, but he carries on.
“None of you can. She makes you all think with your dicks. I’d give it ten minutes before one of you either fucks her or lets her go.”
Liam and Mikey nod their agreement, but I slam my fist against the door beside his head. “So you’re saying you don’t trust me?” I snarl.
“Around Jessie? No,” he snarls back.
“Well, maybe I don’t trust you.”
“I’m the only one willing to do what needs to be done and you know it, Conor.”
“And that’s what I’m worried about. You’re not thinking straight either, Shane. You’re convinced she’s betrayed us and you’re not even willing to consider an alternative.”
“Well, neither of you can go in there if you’re at each other’s throats,” Liam says calmly from behind us.
“Exactly. So, you three go up to the apartment and I’ll wait down here,” Shane says to him over my shoulder. “And I’ll let you know what she says when she’s awake. I won’t lay a finger on her.”
“Okay,” Liam replies. “You okay with that, Con?” He asks, placing a hand on my shoulder. My youngest brother has a way of bringing calm to a situation that I’ve never quite been able to fathom. Perhaps it’s something in the tone of his voice, but something about him taps into something in us in a way that no one else can.
“Whatever,” I snap, because Shane is right. I’m not sure I trust myself around Jessie either.
“Good.” Shane smiles at me reassuringly and I trust that he won’t let anything happen to her. At least not yet.
Chapter
Six
JESSIE
Groaning, I roll onto my side. My pulse throbs in my temples and my mouth is so dry I can barely swallow. Suddenly an image of Conor’s face flashes into my mind. He was here. In my father’s house. Someone was with him. The last thing I remember is the expression on Conor’s face as a hand clamped around my mouth.
My eyes snap open. Where the hell am I? The room is tiny and dim. There are no windows. A small stainless steel toilet sits in one corner, about three feet away from the bed I’m lying on, which is nothing more than a bare mattress on a steel frame. My heart races in my chest, hammering against my ribcage as I sit up and try to get my bearings.
“About fucking time. I was beginning to think you’d never wake up,” I hear a familiar voice growl from a dark corner. I spin my head toward the sound, noting the enormous steel door blocking the exit.
“Shane?” I croak, my voice hoarse from lack of fluids. How long have I been here? “Where am I?”
“Who are you working for, Jessie?” he snarls.
I blink at him as the memory of his hand over my mouth fills my senses. That was him in my father’s house with Conor. Of course it was. I would recognize the touch of his skin on mine anywhere. “Did you drug me?”
“Who are you working for?” he repeats.
“Where am I, Shane? What the hell is going on?” I demand, but the tremor in my voice is audible. “Is the Wolf here?” I gasp as my eyes dart around the small space.
“Don’t try and fuck with me,” he snarls. “I asked you a fucking question.”
