The Inside Man: A Dublin Nights Novel

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The Inside Man: A Dublin Nights Novel Page 10

by Sahin, Brittney


  My heart squeezed as she let go of my face and handed me the letter.

  “You don’t know everything about me,” I gave in and told her, unable to stop myself. “I wasn’t exactly a choir boy while you were gone.” A cold chill buzzed up my spine. “You were locked away, and I was screwing up.”

  “You couldn’t have known. You tried to find me.” She took a step back, and the weight of my guilt had my arms falling heavy to my sides, the letter clutched in one hand.

  She was letting me off the hook too easily. Blaming herself, which wasn’t fair.

  “And I never expected you’d wait for me.” She turned away, but this couldn’t be goodbye.

  “Maybe we’ve both made mistakes,” I began, and she peered back at me. “But what if we learn to move on together?”

  She fully faced me and let go of a deep breath. “Then pick me up tomorrow at seven.”

  Chapter Nine

  Alessia

  Somewhere in Russia – Two Years Ago

  Luca knew Cole’s name. The son of a bitch knew, and he’d use it against me. How could he not? He lived for that shit. The tormenting and the torture. It was how he operated.

  “What’s this?” I warily eyed the folder Luca had tossed on the bed, not in the mood for his bullshit.

  He leaned closer to where I stood, alcohol on his breath.

  I considered the possibility of tackling him to the floor, then using the bottle he held to bash him in the head.

  Take the key from his pocket, lock him up, then convince one of the nice guards to call Sebastian. To set me free.

  But what if I failed? What if I got a guard killed again?

  And I’d also seen Luca fight.

  He enjoyed throwing punches in the makeshift fighting arena he’d made here. The prisoners never stood a chance against him, especially when Luca played dirty.

  So yeah, I couldn’t win, but one of these days, I might try.

  I’d started working out in my room more, but I’d been avoiding the gym lately. The last time I stepped foot in there, some big guy roped a hand around my neck and shoved me against the wall in an attempt to feel me up.

  A guard had to shoot him in the shoulder to get him to let go of me. The sick prick. I’d later learned the man who’d throttled me had been a hired hitman who used to work for the same kind of human traffickers my brother believed murdered me.

  I’d venture to say most in this prison belonged here, but a rare few were nice. I’d made one or two friends even. They promised to keep me safe whenever I ventured into the common areas, but the workout room? No, I couldn’t shake the vision of that big guy holding me tight. The sound of the gunshot that I’d been so sure would pierce me, too.

  “I don’t care what’s inside this.” I stabbed at the manila folder.

  “If I tell you it’s about your precious Cole McGregor, would that change your mind?” He flashed me a wicked grin, eyes sharp and gleaming. “Your brother is protecting him. His whole family, in fact. Crazy, right?”

  I gasped and snatched the folder but didn’t open it. “What are you talking about?” No, that couldn’t be possible. Cole lived in New York, and yeah, he had family in Dublin I’d done my best to avoid when I’d lived there, but how’d my brother get involved with Cole’s family?

  “Cole’s cousin Adam screwed up,” Luca answered as if he’d read my mind.

  I’d never met any of Cole’s cousins, but I’d seen them around Dublin here and there, painful reminders of the man I’d left behind, another reason to avoid them.

  I shifted to the edge of the bed and held the folder on my lap. What kind of ammo did Luca have in here to torture me?

  He took a long swallow of vodka straight from the bottle. “Adam’s a fighter. Got himself mixed up with an Irish mob boss connected with The Alliance. He put a target on his head—on everyone’s head because of it.”

  My stomach tightened. Was Cole in danger?

  He patted the air with his free hand. “Don’t worry, your brother and his hero complex stepped in. I’m not sure if it’s because he knew your connection to Cole, or because he’s developing an obsession for Holly.”

  My brother, obsessed?

  “Sebastian has found a new woman to worry about now that you’re out of the picture.”

  He was trying to hurt me, but I wouldn’t let his words affect me. And if my brother was interested in someone, then I’d be happy.

  But Cole’s cousin, what were the chances?

  “Sebastian placed the McGregors under League protection, and that includes the man you still love, and for the life of me, I don’t understand why you care about him.” He reached out and flipped the folder open, and I couldn’t help but look down. “Cole has certain tastes.”

  There was a picture of Cole and a woman, and based on the thickness of the stack of photos, there’d be a lot more women beneath this one.

  “I know you think about him when you touch yourself, but you should stop. He doesn’t love you.”

  His vile words carried my gaze toward the connecting bathroom. Did he have a camera in there? The only time I got myself off was in the shower, where I’d believed there were no cameras. I’d checked the room thoroughly.

  As dirty as I felt for touching myself while locked inside Luca’s prison, I needed to release some of my tension, and thinking about Cole, about what I wished he’d do to me, had been my escape.

  “There’s a lot more photos.” He leaned in and fanned the pictures, but I refused to take a closer look. Not right now, at least. Not with Luca waiting for a reaction.

  I wouldn’t let Luca see the impact this had on me. I had to be strong, so I gulped back the hurt and lifted my eyes to his cold, dark ones.

  “A lot more women. Even if you were free, you think he’d be interested in someone like you when he enjoys sex clubs?”

  Sex clubs? I swallowed. “You had someone follow him?”

  “I could have done a lot more than that, and you know it.”

  “He’s safe now,” I shot back the reminder, but his smirk cut through me.

  “Not if he dies in a car accident. Sebastian will never make the connection.” His grin stretched as he set down his vodka. “Your brother tosses back drinks with me. We hang out. He has no idea I betrayed him. You think he’ll figure out if I had Cole murdered?” His lips went flat as one brown brow lifted in question.

  He was right. It wasn’t that my brother was an idiot, far from it, but he trusted a handful of people with all of his heart, and Luca was one of them.

  For a glimmer of a moment, I’d believed Cole would be safe. Luca wouldn’t be able to use him against me, threaten his safety, but now—shit.

  Damn it all to hell.

  His smile returned, and I didn’t want to know why. “Since Cole’s cock is always deep inside someone else, why don’t you finally admit how badly you want me buried balls deep inside of you?”

  I jerked my hand back and threw a fist toward him, unable to stop myself. My knuckles connected with his jaw, but only because he let it happen. He didn’t move like he could’ve.

  “Mm. Do it again. I dare you.”

  I did my best to dial down my fury, but I couldn’t. I landed a hard left to his cheek. My hand hurt. It ached like something fierce. But also, it felt really, really good.

  His lips flipped into a smile. “I guess I’m like Cole, and I like it rough.” He tipped his chin. “Do it again. You’re only turning me on.” He wet his lips, and his words had me stumbling back and nearly falling onto the bed.

  “Get out of here.”

  “What? You don’t want to fight anymore?”

  “Go,” I demanded, which was an insane request to make given he was the warden of my hell.

  “I think I have a better idea.” He grabbed hold of my elbow and jerked me toward the door.

  “Where are we going? What-what are you doing?”

  He peered at me after unlocking the door. “I think it’s time you join in on the fights.�
��

  * * *

  I’d waited for the tremble in my hand to go away before I sat down to write Cole.

  I hated Luca. Hated him so much that I contemplated becoming like my brother and killing the bastard. I never believed in capital punishment, never even considered the possibility of taking a life. But now? He was trying to steal something—my soul. And I didn’t know what to do or how to cope.

  My focus darted to the folder still on my bed. Luca had left it there purposefully. Another form of torture.

  My stomach turned. It banded tight and twisted. Tears blurred my sight as I continued to stare at the folder.

  I took slow steps and lifted it. I couldn’t expect Cole to wait for me. I left him. I took off.

  The shakiness returned to my hand as I opened the folder. I missed Cole, and there were recent photos of him at my fingertips. Photos of him with other women, but maybe I could see past them, just see my best friend.

  Cole was alive. He was living. Breathing. Maybe even happy?

  The date stamp on the top photo of Cole indicated it’d been taken last week.

  Seven days ago, a blonde in some sexy leather get-up stood before him at what appeared to be a nightclub. Luca referred to it as a sex club, and I honestly didn’t think those kinds of places existed outside of books and movies.

  Cole was sitting on a leather couch in a black, fitted three-piece suit. Dark tie pinned to his shirt beneath the vest and jacket. His eyes were closed from what I could tell in this hi-def image.

  How had Luca even managed to get a hold of such shots?

  The bile started up the back of my throat again, but I forced it down.

  “Why are you there?” I touched his face, missing him so much.

  I shuffled through a few more provocative images, trying to understand this other side of Cole I didn’t know.

  I needed to write to him. To get my feelings down. I had to find a way to navigate through these darker-than-dark waters.

  Setting the folder aside, I went for my legal pad, hoping the tremor in my hand wouldn’t return when I lifted the pen.

  Cole,

  Luca discovered your name. The crazy thing—I found out my brother is protecting your family. I guess that should make me feel better, but Luca is still threatening to hurt you. And also, if you’re in my brother’s orbit now, there’s a chance you already know I’d been living in Dublin all along—well, until Sebastian shipped me off to Sicily for my safety. A lot of good that did.

  You’ll hate me if you learn the truth. I can’t imagine you not hating me for that. But then you’ll discover I’m dead (I’m very much alive, even if I wish I weren’t some days—like today).

  Luca decided to hurt me today. Not physically. Actually, I punched him twice, and it felt really good, but that wound up being a mistake. I can’t talk about that right now. I don’t even know what to think or feel about what happened today. I’m so confused.

  Luca also told me something about you. More like showed me something. Pictures of you. Pictures of you at what he referred to as sex clubs.

  I don’t know if you just started getting into “rough sex” lately or if you were always into it. I can’t help but wonder if that’s why you remained just friends with me. Did you think I wouldn’t accept you? That I couldn’t give you what you needed? Do you consider me too vanilla? That’s the word, right? Vanilla. I don’t even know what the letters BDSM stand for, that’s how naïve I am.

  And here’s some more truth. I was a virgin before I ran away. I lied to you. I told you I lost my virginity. But no, that was a lie. I’d been pissed you started dating that college girl (I guess you weren’t dating, just sex), but I was jealous, and I told you someone popped my cherry. You’d never looked so angry. So red in the face. Maybe I wanted to see if you really did care, and I’d been a bratty teenager to do such a thing.

  I finally did give away what I’d been saving for you all those years, though. I’d thought I could get over you if I did it. I cried so hard afterward. Stood in the shower and just cried. Days and days of wishing my first time had been with you.

  And here I am now, locked away in this hell, and even though I’ve discovered you’re out there having lots and lots of sex, I still can’t help but wish it were me you were with instead. Maybe we’ll have a chance, and maybe I can let loose and give you what you want and need—we’ll see. First, I need to find a way out of here.

  I’m glad to see you’re living your life, even if it’s one I didn’t expect.

  I have to go shower the filth off me now. That’s a story for another day.

  Keep living, Cole. Keep being you. I’ll always accept you for you, even when it hurts like it did today.

  Love,

  Alessia

  P.S. – Even after I saw those pictures, my heart still “beeps” only for you.

  Chapter Ten

  Alessia

  Dublin – Present Day

  “He was so broken. When you left, well, I’ve never seen someone so broken in all my life.” Bree’s words had me dropping onto the bench in my walk-in closet.

  “Why are you telling me this?” I’d been searching for a dress to wear for my dinner date with Cole tomorrow night when his sister called.

  “I just got off the phone with him. He’s upset. I haven’t heard him like that since you vanished from New York, and then—”

  “When he thought I was dead,” I finished for her, my shoulders slouching.

  I’d been on pins and needles wondering if Cole had read my letter, and if so, how he was handling it. I guess I had my answer.

  Guilt. Piles and stacks. Bricks of it. I knew Bree wasn’t trying to gut me, and she was only looking out for her brother, but that didn’t stop the sharp blade between my ribs from hurting any less. She was three years older than me, and we’d been friends back in New York, but we never spent as much time together as Cole and I had.

  “What’d he say?” I asked, my voice soft. Possibly too low for her to even hear me.

  Had he mentioned the contents of my letter? I doubted that. He wouldn’t spill my secrets. I trusted him.

  “He’s worried about you, and I just can’t see him go through this again. He’s mourned you twice. The first time he nearly drank himself to death on so many occasions, I lost track.”

  Oh, God. Images of Cole alone in his flat with a bottle in hand, back to the wall, head bowed shot to mind. How many walls had he thrown his fist through when he was younger? He’d never been a fighter like Adam, but he had a temper. It didn’t come out often, and his anger always seemed directed toward himself, but when he was pissed . . .

  My leaving not only hurt him deeply, it surely angered him, especially when he was unable to change the narrative. He couldn’t find me.

  “I picked up the pieces after you left. Deleted your photos from his accounts without telling him.” She paused. “He almost killed me for that.” Another pause. Another twist of the knife. “I love you. He loves you. But I can’t watch you destroy him again. I’m so glad you’re back, but you’re the reason he’s gotta be this League person, and you’re the reason he’s—”

  “I’m sorry,” I cut her off, unable to hear anymore.

  I was already filled with so much guilt, for so many reasons, I wasn’t sure how much more I’d be able to take without breaking down.

  I exited the closet and stood in front of the vanity, forcing myself to look at my reflection. To truly see who I’d become. No mask. Just me.

  My eyes seemed to be a paler shade of brown. The loneliness I felt throughout my captivity still tormented me, but it was weaker, and it faded completely when I was with Cole. He was the possible antidote to my problems, but I didn’t want to rely on anyone other than myself to fix what had been broken.

  “I can’t do this.” I ended the call and slammed the phone on the counter.

  Bree had cried when she’d set eyes on me at Holly’s wedding, but on the inside, she was afraid I’d hurt her brother again. She
hated me. I hated myself, too.

  When my phone vibrated, I figured it was Bree calling back to scold me for hanging up on her. But my breath hitched when I saw Cole’s name instead.

  With a shaky hand, I snatched it and swiped at the screen.

  Cole: You said I couldn’t ask you questions about your time there, does that include talking via text?

  Cole: I’m losing my mind a bit right now.

  Cole: Your letter. Alessia, that letter . . .

  My eyes blurred at his words. The pain in my chest was unbearable as he continued to text, and I had no idea how to answer. I’d done this. I’d handed over my thoughts to him. What did I think was going to happen? That he’d have no feelings about it? That he’d just let it go without wanting to talk?

  Cole: I have to see you. We need to talk.

  Cole: I need to explain. Please.

  Cole: I also want to kill Luca. I want to break every bone in his body and watch him bleed to death. Slowly. Painfully. And so help me, if he touched you—if he touched you at all—there will be no mercy.

  The blood drained from my face. I should have expected this reaction after he read that letter. Of course, he’d be angry. But Cole wasn’t a killer. I refused to let that happen.

  I needed to answer, to say something. I couldn’t let him lose his mind like this.

  Cole: Alessia? Are you there? I need to see you.

  The dancing dots indicated he was working on another text, but when I began to type, the dots disappeared.

  Me: I shouldn’t have given you that letter. But I can’t see you right now. I’m sorry if the letter upset you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry.

 

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