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Connor stood in the doorway and studied the rain. Blood from his bloodied knuckles dripped on the floor, but he didn't seem to notice. "You got a smoke?"
I dug in my jacket pocket, pulled out the pack, and I shook one out, offering it to him. "You only smoke when you're stressed. What's up?"
"How's the leg?" Connor asked, ignoring my question. He took the cigarette and tapped down the tobacco.
I shrugged. "Good as new. I barely even limp anymore. Thank God for Cassidy--I probably would've lost the whole leg if Delaney had been the one stitching me up."
I laughed, but Connor didn't.
"We never finished our conversation from that night," he said quietly.
I knew my best friend enough to recognize the calm before the storm. Shit--had Teagan said something about Emilia? Although I hadn't told Connor about her, I really didn't think he'd be that upset. Certainly not enough to warrant the quiet anger building beneath the surface.
"What conversation?" I tried to laugh it off. It was my default setting in any confrontation. "I was pretty loopy."
"The conversation where I asked you what was so important that you missed your rounds with Teag that night, and you gave me some bullshit excuse about a girl. I'd love to know what kind of kinky shit you've got going on in the bedroom that ends up with you getting shot, Alfie."
My face heated. "It was just a girl, Connor. We were out, I wasn't paying attention, and some pisshead tried to mug us."
It was the same conversation we'd already had. My back was up against the wall, but what else I could tell him without mentioning Emilia?
Connor shoved off the crate he was sitting on so violently it tipped over with a bang sounding like a gunshot in the cavernouswarehouse. I flinched as he kicked it viciously. I'd never seen him lose control like this. His back was to me, shoulders heaving as he sucked in calming breaths, but nothing could prepare me for the betrayal written on his face when he turned around. "You realize what this looks like, don't you?"
My stomach fell to my shoes, the same time as the blood drained from my face. No. There was no way.
"You...what? You think I'm the mole?"
I could barely get the words out, they were so hateful to me. Connor's accusation cut deep, scoring across the raw, open wound left by Emilia. Not only had I failed to protect her and lost her in the process, but I'd also driven my best friend--my brother in all but blood--to believe that I would stab him in the back.
Anger flared, caustic in my veins and tempered by hurt. "Connor, I would never betray you or the family. Youknowme. This is all I've got. I would die before I would sell you out."
Three quick steps and Connor grabbed my collar, slamming me into the side of the shipping container. His arm pressed against my windpipe. "Then tell me what's going on with you," he hissed. "I don't care how bad it is."
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"I want the truth. You're keeping something from me." Connor leaned in close, eyes hard. "I love you, Alfie. You are my brother, but so help me God, if I find out that you have been working against us, I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your head myself."
"It's a girl, Connor. I wasn't lying about that part," I choked as Connor increased the pressure around my throat. "I met her in a bookshop in the North End. Her name is Emilia Moretti."
I didn't bother to explain that Emilia was adopted, that she'd kept her mother's name. It was bad enough, and I didn't have the breath for it.
Connor paled. He let me go and stepped away. I coughed, trying to suck air back into my lungs.
"No." He shook his head. "No."
"Emilia is Lorenzo Moretti's adopted daughter. Her father was one of his lieutenants when he was killed. She was seven. Her mother was killed a year later, and Emilia was raised by Lorenzo outside the family. She has absolutely nothing to do with the Moretti Crime Family."
I straightened, feet planted and arms loose at my sides. If Connor wanted to hit me, he could go right ahead, but I was going to hit him right back. I wasn't going to apologize for Emilia, and I sure as hell wasn't a goddamn turncoat.
Connor closed his eyes wearily. "Alfie. How can you be so sodding stupid. His goddamn daughter."
"She’s not a part of it, it’s just a bookstore!" I shouted. "Books, Connor. I checked. Do you really think I'd be dumb enough to go chasing after someone like her without doing a little digging, first?"
"You wouldn't be the first man to be blinded by a pair of tits."
A muscle pulsed in my jaw, and I pulled out a new cigarette and lit it. "The day I met her, I was in Back Bay looking into Johnny's shooting, per your orders. I was tailing one of his contacts, and we drifted into Moretti territory. He flushed me into an ambush. Dominic and Angel Moretti tried to jump me and ended up chasing me into Emilia's bookshop. She could've given me to them, Con. They’re her stepbrothers.”
I shook my head, catapulted back to that night and Emilia’s act of kindness that had started this all. “She didn’t do that. Instead, she hid me in the back storeroom and fed them a lie. Emilia had everything to lose, and nothing to gain, and she still chose to help me.”
