He could sure as hell try.
“Look, I get Brandt’s betrayal has shaken you—”
“It hasn’t shaken me.”
“But you have to move on,” Aedan continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “You can’t stop trusting everyone because of what one bad apple did.”
“Bad apple? You’re talking like he stole my lunchbox or kissed my girlfriend. He betrayed the gang.”
“And he tried to kill you.”
Yeah, and that, too.
“But he didn’t. Because you have other people loyal to you. People who would die for you.”
He didn’t want someone taking a bullet for him.
“Since when did we have to have touchy-feely conversations?”
“Since you started acting like an idiot. You can’t shut everyone else out because of Brandt.”
Rogan ground his teeth. “I’m not stupid. I know I have good men under me.”
“So why not name one of them your second and give yourself a break, or do you like working every hour God gave you?”
At least work provided a distraction from Miller.
“I have to be sure.”
Aedan’s eyes widened. “You don’t trust your judgment?”
“I trusted Brandt. I had no idea he and Iker had joined forces to get rid of me. But I did know Brandt was all for pushing Fizz. He didn’t approve when I decided not to sell that shit on my streets.”
“Yeah, but his disagreement with you wasn’t any reason to suspect him of turning on you.”
“I trusted him and I believed Iker.”
Aedan frowned.
“Believed Iker about what?”
“When he said Miller was with him of her own free will, that she had lured Tilly to San Francisco to prove her loyalty to the gang I believed him.”
“You knew him for years. Why wouldn’t you believe him? You didn’t know Miller.”
“But I knew Iker. He was an evil old bastard.”
“Who you had an agreement with. One you honored.”
“Until I can trust my judgment again, I can’t risk making the wrong decision.”
Aedan sighed. “You’re not going to budge, are you?”
Nope.
“Fine. But if you collapse from exhaustion, I’m not holding Natalya back. She will start riding your ass.”
He shuddered, holding up his hands. “I won’t let it get that bad. I will choose a second. Just not yet.”
Aedan nodded and they moved on to other topics. Thank God.
A knock on the door interrupted them and Cillian stepped in.
“Callahan’s here, Boss. He wants to speak to you.”
What the hell did he want?
“I’ve got to go. Natalya will be waiting up.” Aedan grinned.
Rogan glanced over at Cillian after Aedan had left. “Let him in.”
Step Callahan was a slim-built, well-dressed guy, but who hadn’t earned his place as leader of the Seven Sinners through his connections but by fighting every other contender. And winning. He was a martial arts expert, who didn’t fight fair. He was dirty and scrappy. And smart.
A bad combination.
Rogan couldn’t help but admire the asshole. A bit.
He’d built the Seven Sinners from nothing into a powerful gang. Rogan didn’t agree with his methods, but Callahan was a man who knew where he was going and he did what he had to get there.
“Callahan. This is a surprise. Please, take a seat.”
Callahan’s second took up position behind him as he sat. Cillian assumed a similar stance behind Rogan.
“Nice place you have here,” Callahan told him. “Not quite what I expected. But you’re a man who lives by his own rules.”
“As do you.”
“I think our rules differ greatly, though. But I won’t keep you. We’re both busy men. I’m sure you’ve heard the identity of the body pulled up from Lake Medina.”
Rogan didn’t bother to pretend ignorance. “My condolences.”
Callahan waved his hand through the air dismissively. “My father was an asshole. And an idiot. He had no ability to think of the bigger picture. He was always after the quick and easy fix. But he was family.”
And family came above all else.
“I get that.”
“So you can understand I will find who killed him. And I will make them pay.”
“I’m sure the cops are doing their best.”
“I’m impressed,” Callahan drawled.
Rogan raised his eyebrows in query.
“You managed to say that with a straight face. The cops don’t care about some former gang leader. But I will find who did this and they will pay.”
“And you’re telling me this, because…”
“A friendly heads-up.” He stood. “I admire you, MacGuire, despite our differences. Won’t stop me from doing what I need to, though.”
Cillian took a step forward. Rogan waved him back.
Callahan left.
“You going to let him get away with threatening you?” Cillian growled.
“He doesn’t have anything. He’s fishing. Looking for a reaction. I’m not going to give him one.”
“Think he’ll discover who did it?”
“I think he’ll try. Make sure everyone is on high alert.”
“You think he could attempt to turn someone?”
Probably. He might even succeed. If Brandt could turn on him, anyone could. But they wouldn’t find out anything. Like Callahan, they could suspect all they liked but, as far as he knew, there was no evidence linking his father to Gerard Callahan’s death.
If it existed, he needed to find it before Callahan did. Unless he wanted a war on his hands.
***
Rogan moved down the passage, stopping by Miller’s room. She hadn’t waited up for him tonight and he had to admit he was disappointed. When had he started looking forward to seeing her each night?
When had coming home become the favorite part of his day?
He used to dread it. The silence. The empty rooms. Even with at least one or two of his men usually around, he’d always felt alone in this house. Which was why he used to spend so much time at Underworld.
A cry broke the silence of the night. He stilled. Was she all right? Another cry came through the door. She sounded terrified.
Without hesitation, he turned the doorknob and rushed inside, prepared to defend her.
The light beside the bed was on, casting deep shadows in the corners. But as he swept his gaze around the room, he knew she was alone.
She thrashed around on the bed, her hair tangled around her face, the blankets slipped from her body.
Another cry escaped her. Nightmare.
Shit. What should he do? How to help her? Glancing down, he froze. One breast had spilled from her top, her nipple red and puckered.
Shit. It was so wrong of him to get turned on while she was caught in the grasp of what was obviously a terrifying dream.
But if he woke her up, she’d know he had seen her naked breast. Maybe he could cover her up first.
Grabbing the blanket, he tugged it up just as she sat, letting out a huge screech.
“Miller! Miller, wake up!” He took hold of her shoulders. He couldn’t take this. Her fear was palpable. Sweat coated her skin, matting her hair and soaking her top.
As she opened her eyes, he grabbed the top of the blanket, covering her as Colm raced into the room.
“Everything all right?” he asked, gun in hand, his gaze roaming the room.
“Fine,” Rogan told him. “Give us some privacy.”
Colm sent Miller a sympathetic look before leaving and shutting the door behind him.
“Wh-what’s going on?” Wide eyes filled with confusion, she pushed back her hair with a shaking hand. “What are you doing in here?”
“I was headed to bed when I heard you cry out. When I came in to check on you, you were having a nightmare, so I woke you up.”
“A nightmar
e? I can’t remember…” She scrunched up her forehead in a puzzled frown. “I was dreaming about when I was with the Vipers. I was so scared. When I was drugged up, it was okay. I didn’t know what was going on. But when I knew what was going on…”
He heard her swallow, felt her tremble. Drawing her against him, he held her tight, able to do nothing else but comfort her. Thankfully, she didn’t fight him, instead slumping against him. Running his hand up and down her back, he wished he knew what to say to reassure her.
“I’m all sweaty and gross.” She tried to pull away, but he held her tight.
Holding her like this, even sweaty and scared, felt amazing.
“You’re fine. Take your time.”
Eventually, he let her withdraw. She drew the blanket back slightly then blushed and tugged it tight across her chest.
“I need a shower.”
“’If you’re sure you’ll be all right?” It didn’t feel right to leave her. He needed to make this better. But he couldn’t.
“Sure. A nightmare can’t hurt me.”
“The ones behind your nightmares can’t hurt you anymore either.” He’d made certain Iker and the men who’d helped him were gone. “You’re safe here.”
She smiled. It was small and shaky, but it was a smile. Grasping his hand, she squeezed. “I know. That means more to me than I can tell you.”
The feel of her hand in his made him catch his breath. Normally, his control was much better than this, but right now he had to desperately fight the urge to lay her back and kiss her, to bare those beautiful breasts and lick, nip, suck.
“I’ll let you shower and get back to sleep.” Reluctant to leave her, he studied the room, focusing in on the suitcase lying on the floor. Tilly had bought her some clothes and personal items when Miller entered the rehab center.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the suitcase.
“It’s the suitcase Tilly bought me, why?”
“I’ll put it away in the closet for you,” he offered. Now he was grasping at straws to stay near her, but he strode over and picked up the suitcase.
“No, wait,” she protested as the suitcase fell open and clothes tumbled out.
Rogan placed the suitcase down before turning to her. “Going somewhere?”
Had she planned on sneaking out? Would she even have said good-bye?
“What? No, I wasn’t leaving. You don’t understand.”
Moving to the bed, he loomed over her. Realizing his intimidating stance, he crouched. “Explain it to me, then.”
Biting her lip, she looked between him and her clothes that lay in a clump on the floor.
“Miller?”
“I’d rather not. Can we forget this night ever happened?”
Reaching out, he grasped her hand and waited. She wouldn’t be able to keep quiet for long.
Finally, she let out a small growl. “You’re tenacious and stubborn.”
“I know.”
“They’re not good qualities to have. You can be very frustrating.”
“Only when I don’t get my way.”
“Like that ever happens. You always get your way.”
He grinned. “I try.”
Knees aching from his crouched position, he stood and sat on the bed facing her. “Spill.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” She gave him a mock salute.
He tapped her nose. “Don’t make me tie you up and spank you.”
Hair swished back and forth as she shook her head. The scent of peaches tickled his nose.
“No kinky shit.”
“No?” he teased, enjoying himself. “Tried it before?”
“Nope and I’m not going to.”
The anxiety had cleared from her face and her shoulders were no longer hunched up around her ears. Time for the truth.
“Why is your suitcase packed if you weren’t going to leave, Miller?”
She stared down at her hands. Rogan grasped her chin in a gentle grip, forcing her to look at him.
“It wasn’t packed so I could leave, it was packed in case I had to leave.”
Huh? “I don’t understand.”
“Well, eventually you’re going to get sick of having me here. I figured why unpack when I would have to pack again.”
Right. Tilly had told him a bit about her childhood and Miller had filled him in on a bit more. Having both parents abandon you as a child had to leave scars. Which could be part of the reason she’d been so desperate to discover what had happened to her mother. To work out why her mother left her.
“Miller, I know you don’t fully trust me.” Maybe she never would. “But you can stay here for as long as you need to. I’m not going to kick you out.”
“I can’t stay forever.”
Why not?
“You can stay as long as you need to.”
“You’ll get sick of me eventually.” Her gaze dropped again.
“Will I? Made up my mind for me, have you?”
“Umm.”
“Do I strike you as someone who ever says something he doesn’t mean? That I open my house up to anyone? I don’t. So if I say you can stay as long as you need to, I mean it. Understand?”
He probably should have been more considerate. Told her she was sweet and funny and turned his house into a home. But he didn’t want her to think he had an ulterior motive for offering to help her.
He meant it. His house was open to her for as long as she needed somewhere to stay.
Eyes wide and filled with hope, she nodded. “Thank you.”
***
A child laughed, jolting her. She stared over at the playground where a small boy squealed as his mother pushed him back and forth on the swing. Higher and higher. Her breath caught, worried he might topple out, but he just giggled.
The woman’s laughter joined his, their joy so obvious she caught her breath with envy. What she wouldn’t give to experience so much happiness. And over something so simple.
Miller glanced down at her shaking hands and took a deep breath.
“You okay?” Colm asked.
“Sure. Fine.” And a pig just flew through the sky. She folded her arms to hide her hands from his too-perceptive gaze and stared out across the park.
“Bad session?” he asked, sympathy in his voice.
Bad? No, it hadn’t been a bad session with her therapist. It had been brutal. She felt as though her insides had been ripped apart and put on display for everyone to examine.
Need clawed at her. She wanted to forget everything. Forget all the stupid mistakes she’d made.
“Come on. I know somewhere to go.”
She glanced up at Colm. “I don’t really feel like being around other people.” Which was why she’d asked him to take her to this park. So she could be alone. Well, as alone as she could be with Colm breathing down her neck. Why the hell did she need a bodyguard all the time?
Maybe because Rogan doesn’t trust you.
“Actually, I think that’s the best thing for you right now.”
She had little choice but to follow him back to the car.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they pulled away from the curb.
“You’ll find out.”
Miller glanced around the Russian restaurant with surprise. “I didn’t know you liked Russian food.”
Colm steered her over to the bar where a petite blonde stood on the other side, her face scrunched up in thought as she scribbled on a piece of paper.
“What were you expecting? Haggis and kippers?” he asked.
“Well, maybe Yorkshire pudding and toads in a hole.”
“English food? Bite your tongue.” He grinned then pulled out a barstool for her. He sat, clearing his throat.
The tiny blonde jumped. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear you.” She smiled at Miller politely. Her smile widened, her whole demeanor growing more friendly as she spotted Colm.
“Oh, it’s just you.”
“Just me?” Colm replied with fake offense. “Is
that any way to greet your best customer, lass?”
Miller stared up at him in surprise at his Scottish lilt. Colm usually hid his accent, adopting a slight Texan accent.
Sofia rolled her eyes. “Want your usual?”
“Yeah, times two.”
“Your usual?” Miller asked. “How often do you come here?”
Sofia’s smile faded as she studied Miller. Miller could guess her thoughts.
“Hi, I’m Miller,” she said, holding out her hand for the other woman to shake.
“Oh.” Sofia glanced back at Colm in surprise. “Nice to meet you. Colm’s talked about you.”
“He has?”
“Nothing personal,” Colm reassured her as Sofia walked off. “I was in here the other day and Sofia asked why she hadn’t seen me here with the boss lately. Told her I had different duties at the moment.”
“Rogan comes here often?” The décor was dark and masculine with wooden floors, black leather chairs, and low lighting. Booths lined the walls, a few tables stood in the middle.
“A bit,” Colm told her.
“I thought you must have lost your Scottish accent.” She knew he’d been born in Scotland. “I like it. Why do you hide it?”
He watched the door Sofia had disappeared through. “An accent makes it harder to blend in.”
“Oh.” In his line of work, blending in was important. “But now you want to stand out?”
“Something like that.”
Sofia reappeared and he stiffened.
“Do you guys want to sit at a table?” Sofia asked. Only a few booths were occupied.
“No, we’re fine here,” Colm told her. “Everything okay?”
She glanced down at the piece of paper she’d been working on. “Yeah, I’m a bit occupied at the moment.”
“Are you an artist?” Miller asked, nodding at the piece of paper.
Sofia laughed. “Not really. More of a doodler. I seem to be stuck on the same image, though. Can’t get it out of my head.” She turned the piece of paper around, showing them. “Silly, huh?”
“You look tired,” Colm told her bluntly.
Sofia blinked. She placed her hand against her cheek.
Good one, Colm. Way to romance her.
It was clear the two of them had feelings for each other. Colm watched her with an intensity she’d never seen from the easy-going Scot while Sofia snuck little glances up at him. But Colm would get further with her by using his winning charm.
Redemption (Cavan Gang #2) Page 5