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“If she or Scotty were hurt, he would have told us,” Sean says.
“Well, how would I know what he told you, Sean? You called Callum saying ‘Saoirse’, then hung up. If that’s not fucking cryptic, I don’t know what is.”
“Hey, Haley,” I say, my arms crossed over my chest as I glare at the man bound and gagged in front of me.
“Jesus, Scotty,” Haley murmurs. “I thought you might be into some kinky shit, but you didn’t have to bring us into it. I do not consent to this,” she deadpans.
I roll my eyes at her dry humor.
She sighs, heading upstairs. “I’ll go check on Saoirse.”
“Fuck, bro,” Declan says.
I turn my gaze to him. His attention is on the body on the floor to my right.
“Russians,” I say, turning my attention back to my captive. I narrow my eyes, trying to figure out what exactly the reason for this attack was.
Callum steps forward, yanking my tie from the man’s mouth. “Who sent you?”
He doesn’t speak.
“Who sent you?“ I repeat the question in Russian.
Still no response. Not even a slight elevation of his pulse or a hitched breath. There’s no twitch of his eye, or any other tell.
“Let’s get him to one of the warehouses on the harbor,” Paddy says.
Callum nods. “Declan and Paddy, you take him. Sean, start figuring out why the fuck your camera systems didn’t go off and get it fixed. Get a couple of the boys here for clean up.” He turns his body to face me, scrutinizing me from head to toe with a scrunched look of disgust on his face. “Start from the beginning.”
“I was in the guest room with the shower running,” I say. I’m not about to tell Saoirse’s eldest brother, the top dog in the Mafia food chain, that I was sitting on the toilet rubbing one out to thoughts of her sexy thighs grinding against my dick.
“Didn’t hear her struggling. I don’t even know how he got in the house. I heard her calling my name and when I came into the hall, this fucker had her in his grip.” I don’t bother going into much more detail. They don’t need to know that she was naked in front of these men, that they touched her and hurt her more than she’d let on.
That’s her secret, and I’ll keep it bottled up for her. Her neck was red with angry marks, when I checked her over as she sat in my lap. It may bruise tomorrow, but they’ll find out only if she wants them to. She can easily cover the marks with make-up.
“Where the fuck is Hugh?” Declan asks. He peers down at the dead man, then kicks his hand to be sure he’s actually a goner. “I thought he was on Saoirse’s detail.”
Sean chuckles. “Scotty’s cleared for duty. So, I swapped them out today. I’ll call and make sure he shows up in the morning so Scotty can help us with this trash.”
Callum grunts his approval. “I’m going to check on the girls.”
“Leave him for me,” I say as Paddy grabs the tie from me and stuffs it back into the man’s mouth. “I want to question him.”
“I’ll get him situated in his new home. Come by when you’re ready.”
Together Paddy and Declan get the fucker out of the house while Sean makes himself comfortable on the couch, as if there isn’t a body and a pool of blood beside him.
Chapter Eight
DeclanandSeanaresitting in my living room when I come downstairs the next morning. Both of them are speaking in hushed tones that I can barely hear. Declan is in his clothes from last night, jeans and a t-shirt, and Sean’s in a similar outfit, jeans with a black henley with black Doc Martens. His hair falls in his face as he bends down to talk to Dec.
I clear my throat to announce my presence. “Where’s Hugh? I’m running late.”
Declan peers at Sean, their words dripping into nothingness, and I feel the awkward silence deep inside my bones. He clears his throat. “Hugh never showed up. Sean hasn’t been able to reach him. Scotty is on his way to take you to work.”
My hand grips my throat. “What?” I whisper.
Declan approaches, brushing my hair from my face. His line of sight meets my neck. “Your throat is bruised.”
