“Yeah. You were.” He brings his whisky up and tosses the entire thing back.
“I suppose I’ll need to look elsewhere. Do you have any suggestions? Have you noticed any of the brothers showing special interest in her?”
“No.”
“You work with her almost every day and you serve every brother on a regular basis. You can’t think of a single one who might be a good match?”
“No.”
“I’ll ask around. She’s very fit. I’m sure there’s plenty of brothers who would love to have her for a wife.”
“Whatever you think is best.” Leith shoves away from the table.
He’s in love with Lorna. I’m sure of it after seeing his reaction. Who could’ve imagined? My wife—that’s who. I should call her matchmaker-dot-com.
I’m finishing my third whisky when my father takes his place to speak to the brothers. “The Order has struck again. They’ve done major damage.” He explains the night’s events. “We have no choice but to retaliate swiftly and take back what is intended for our new Irish allies.”
There’s a Q&A session back and forth between the brothers and my father with Abram constantly interjecting his thoughts. He honestly cannot stand my father being his superior.
The Order has three main warehouses we know about. It’s decided the brotherhood will divide into thirds and hit each location at the same time. They won’t be expecting us to divide to conquer.
It’s happening at five in the morning. Shit. That’s only three and a half hours before my flight’s departure time. That won’t be easy to manage, even if everything goes perfectly.
I’m fucked.
I try to get a few hours’ sleep so I’m rested for the attack but it’s useless. I’m worried about Bleu and how I’ll make it to the transfer tomorrow.
I call her before I leave to join my men. It’s very early. I know she’s asleep but I want to assure her one last time I have every intention of being there when our babies are placed inside her.
“I trust you, Breck. I know you’ll be here.”
I don’t tell her about the coming raid. She doesn’t need that kind of stress on her mind right before going in for this procedure. But my mum should know—just in case things go awry.
“Can you put Mum on for a minute?”
My mother answers. “Mum. I need you to know what’s happening in case I don’t make it in time. There’s been an attack by The Order. They took all the artilleries for the Irish. As you know, we must get those back. I’ve stayed behind to lead one of three raids in a couple of hours. It’s highly possible I won’t make my flight. If that happens, I need you to be with Bleu through the procedure. Keep her calm. Tell her my flight was delayed—or whatever you feel you must—to keep her from stressing out.”
“Of course, son.”
“The baby has nothing to do with what The Fellowship expects. This is about us and what we want.”
“I never thought otherwise.”
“I want you to know I promised her I wouldn’t take our son from her. I won’t do what Dad did to you.”
“I can’t tell you how proud that makes me. But you should know now that decision is going to cause problems with your father and The Fellowship.”
“I know, and I don’t care. I love her too much to risk having her hate me for it.”
I just hope she doesn’t hate me if I don’t make it in time.
* * *
Three raids on three Order warehouses. I’m leading one while my father and Abram are heading the other two. My team and I are assigned the least likely location for hiding our stolen goods. For once, I’m grateful about that—but not because I’m afraid of a fight. I’m more likely to make my flight if I don’t get caught in the middle of a shootout.
I give instructions to each of my men and they take their positions. We’re surrounding The Order’s warehouse. At precisely five o’clock, I give the signal to attack.
We swarm into the metal building through two entrances, opposite one another. We’re surrounded by cold steel gray on all six surfaces. The floor. The four walls. The ceiling. The bright yellow caution markers on the building’s support beams are the only other color represented. Until blood sheds.
The place crawls with Order members so I give the signal to open fire. Return gunfire immediately erupts as my men push forward to invade the warehouse. It’s heavy. This can only mean one thing: our artilleries for the Irish are being hidden here.
Shots rain all around me so I’m forced to back down and take cover behind a wooden cargo box. I crouch with my back pressed against it, searching my surroundings for an alternate route to advance upon my enemy.
The catwalk overhead is the perfect position for my four best sharpshooters. I motion for them to take the advantageous spot.
One of my men is running to join me when he goes down. I move quickly, grabbing beneath his arms and dragging him to safety. He clutches his chest, blood quickly saturating his shirt. “I’m hit.”
“Aye.” I tear his shirt open to assess the damage. I’m no doctor but I’ve seen a lot of gunshot wounds. Too many. I recognize how critical this one is. “It’s just a flesh wound. Jamie can fix you up, no problem.”
“You should know after being shot twice.” He laughs but his laughter is interrupted by a weak cough. Dark red streams from the corner of his mouth. “I’m not going to make it. You don’t have to pretend.”
I don’t know what to say. This man deserves better than to die on our enemy’s cold concrete floor taking cover behind a wooden crate.
“Tell my wife I love her. And if our baby is a boy, she has to name him after me. Tell her I said so.”
Oh God. His wife is expecting.
I shouldn’t because we’re in the middle of a shitstorm, but I feel obliged to reach into his pocket and take out his phone. “You can tell her yourself.”
I hold the phone to his ear and try not to eavesdrop on what should be a private conversation between a dying man and his beloved. It’s impossible, despite the sound of gunfire all around us.
The conversation goes silent on his end. His life is over, only to be carried on with the child his wife will bear.
I run my fingers over his lids, closing them. “I’ll take care of your family.”
I have a decision to make. Use my anger as an excuse to retaliate prematurely or take my time and react rationally with sound mind. The decision is clear.
I move to my stomach and position my rifle. I’m calm. Steady. One by one, from all directions, my men and I take down every member of The Order.
Gunfire stops after we’ve taken out the last one. “Find the firearms!” I shout to my brothers.
My men scour the building. Three are fallen. I go to each and confirm all are dead.
I assign men to collect the bodies. I never leave my brothers behind.
“Over here, Sinclair. You need to take a look at this.” One of the brothers is standing inside the opened doors of a transport truck.
It’s not our artilleries but these members of The Order were here protecting something special. “Open them.”
Using crowbars, two men pry the tops off the wooden boxes. I push the straw away. “Well, well. It looks as though our good friends are looking to build bombs. Quite a few, judging by this.”
I’m not educated about bombs and bomb-making but I’m aware we’re damn lucky all that gunfire didn’t detonate these explosives. We could’ve been blown to smithereens.
There’s no way we’re leaving this kind of weaponry in our enemy’s hands. “Replace the tops. We’re taking the trucks and everything inside.”
I look at my watch. I need to be at the airport in two hours to assure I make my flight. “Let’s move fast but take great care in the handling and transport of these crates.”
My men do as I say but caution requires time. We can’t rush moving explosives that could be unstable.
It’s seven thirty by the time we make it to our new warehouse. We’r
e the last group to arrive.
“What took so damn long?” Abram grumbles.
“You’ll see.”
The truck is backed into the warehouse and the tops of the crates are lifted. “We hit the jackpot.”
“What is that?” my father asks.
“Bomb components. A lot of them.” My gut tells me this discovery probably just saved a lot of Fellowship members. I’m guessing we would have been the targets.
My father slaps my shoulder. “This is an excellent find, son. Good job.”
I look at my watch. It’s seven forty-five.
“My flight boards in an hour and a half.” I gesture toward my blood-soaked clothes. “I doubt I’ll be allowed on like this.”
“Hurry, son. Go be with your wife.”
* * *
Dammit to hell. I cannot believe this shit. I busted my ass to make my flight on time—which I did—and now I’m going to miss being with Bleu during the embryo transfer because of a fucking delay.
My driver is holding a sign bearing my name when I come off the escalator. “There’s five hundred pounds in it for you if you can get me to my destination in twenty minutes.”
The race is on. It’s impossible to make it on time but I’m hoping her admission and paperwork will take a while. I don’t have to be there for that part. All I really need is to arrive before Bleu’s taken back for the procedure.
I’m slung from one side of the car to the other as we make our way from Heathrow to the fertility clinic. I watch the time with a nervous lump in my stomach. It’s hopeless unless we make up time somewhere, which is unlikely in London traffic.
Time ticks away. Traffic is horrid. Eleven o’clock comes and goes. Eleven ten. Eleven twenty. Eleven thirty.
“Can you help me find my wife? Bleu Breckenridge. She has an appointment for an embryo transfer.”
“Mrs. Breckenridge is in room six. Down the hall on the right.”
I knock and Bleu calls out for me to come in.
She’s lying on an exam table, her head slightly elevated, with my mum sitting at her side. “I’ll step out so you can talk.”
I go to Bleu and take her hand. “I’m so sorry I’m late. My flight was delayed.”
“Isobel told me.”
Her eyes are swollen and red, her mascara smeared. “You missed it. You swore you’d be with me but you weren’t.”
I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “I’m so damn sorry. It was a string of unfortunate events keeping me from you. I tried my damnedest to get here. I swear.”
She stares at the ceiling without a reply.
“Please forgive me.”
She closes her eyes and tears roll from the corners of her lids into her hairline.
“Are you in pain?”
“No.”
That’s all the reply I get.
“I’m such an arse. I should’ve moved heaven and earth to be with you. I know I let you down but please try not to be upset.”
I rub my free hand atop her lower abdomen. “It can’t be good for you or what’s happening inside you right now.”
“I’m angry with you but I’m going to put it aside for now.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance to be pissed off at me—just not right now while our babies are trying to do their thing.”
That brings a smile to her face.
“Dr. Paschall thinks everything went well?” I wouldn’t have to ask if I’d been here.
“Yes.”
“What’s next?”
“They want me to lie still until they come back to release me. I’m to be on modified bed rest for the next twenty-four hours and then take it easy for a couple of days. No travels for a few days. No sex—not that you’d be getting any anyway. I’m too pissed off to even consider it.”
She enjoyed telling me that. I suppose I can’t blame her.
“I’m going to make this up to you.” I don’t know how but I won’t stop until I find a way.
Chapter Seventeen
Bleu Breckenridge
I’ve spent the last two days in our London hotel’s presidential suite. We’ve spent a lot of time here in the recent weeks. It sort of feels like a second home.
My husband has pampered me and seen to my every whim. But he owes me that much after being MIA for the transfer. I’m not over that—and won’t be any time soon—but at least the urge to choke him has passed.
I’m lying on the sofa reading while Sin sits in the chair next to me flipping through a file. He’s reviewing a case going to court in a few days. I should let him work but I don’t want to. I feel like talking.
I place my e-reader on my stomach. “What happened Thursday night?”
He looks over the file at me. “You shouldn’t concern yourself with it. You don’t need the stress.”
“Not knowing stresses me more than knowing. You should probably understand that about me now rather than later.”
He sucks in a breath. “One of our trucks was raided by The Order. They took a large supply of firearms intended for a new alliance in Ireland—one that’s instrumental in a bigger goal in Dublin. It was imperative to get the arms back. We didn’t need that kind of ammunition to be in the hands of The Order but we also needed the supply to maintain our relationship with an organization called The Guild.”
I can’t recall anything about The Guild but I suppose I wouldn’t if they’re a new alliance.
“Did it go well?”
“We got the arms back and discovered a huge supply of bomb-making materials in the process. I believe they were going to target us with explosives.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“I lost three good men. One of them died in my arms while speaking to his pregnant wife on the phone.”
“Oh God. That must’ve been brutal.”
He doesn’t reply.
My husband isn’t an emotional man. He can’t afford to be but I’m guessing even that might have touched him. Babies have a way of doing that to people.
“You’ll see that this man’s wife and child are taken care of?”
“Of course. He died under my command so I’ll see to them personally.”
He returns to studying his file. I don’t think he wants to discuss what happened, but I do. I have things to say. “I forgive you for not being here.”
He lowers the folder again. “You’ll never know how sick I am that I missed it.”
He’s going to miss more than this one procedure before it’s over. Of that, I’m certain. “Always do your best. That’s all I ask of you.”
“You and our family will always be my number-one priority but please try to understand that protecting The Fellowship means keeping you and our children safe as well.”
I’m not fragile. I can handle the truth. “It’s easier to be understanding when you know what’s going on.”
“I would’ve told you if the circumstances weren’t what they were. I needed you calm. That wouldn’t have been the case had you known what I was in the middle of.”
The Order was once no concern of mine but all is different now. Everything they do impacts The Fellowship, thereby affecting my husband. That trickles down to me. I’m not okay with that. “The Order is a pest that must be squashed quickly.”
My husband grins. “Agreed. I’m open to ideas.”
“Debra could be very beneficial in dealing with The Order. She’s a genius when it comes to organized crime. She had eyes on The Fellowship for years and you were none the wiser. Most importantly, she’s a family friend. She can be trusted.”
“Call her. Have her put on payroll immediately.”
I thought he’d be interested. “She won’t be cheap but she’s worth every penny.”
“Don’t give a damn. Her fee couldn’t possibly exceed the expenses The Order costs us.”
“I’ll let her know.”
“We’ll schedule a leadership meeting for early next week. She can join us. I hope she’ll have some fresh ideas.”
I have no doubt she will.
“Debra understands the criminal mind in ways I’ve never seen. I can’t begin to comprehend the complexity of what she knows and understands. She’s a total mind-fuck.”
“I can’t believe we’ve never heard of her.”
“She’s a phantom.” I’d kill to be more like her.
“I would’ve loved nothing more than to go undercover within The Order.” It would have been incredibly satisfying to have done something like that for the brotherhood I now consider “my people.”
“I understand and respect your need to bring something productive to the table. It’s one of the things I love so dearly about you but you’ll have to find it in something that isn’t dangerous.”
“I can’t help it. I thrive in dangerous situations,” I say.
“Changing diapers can be dangerous stuff. Especially if we have a boy. I’ve heard those little buggers can open fire on you without any warning.”
I’m used to action. I fear I won’t find motherhood fulfilling. And I’m terrified to share that with Sin. “I have a lot to learn.”
He moves to the sofa and pulls my feet onto his lap to rub them. “Being a mother to our children will be the most important mission you’ll ever have. Never doubt that.”
* * *
The two-week wait has been hell but it ends today. I’m at my local OB/GYN having my beta HCG test. It’s the first in a series of blood tests to confirm whether I have conceived. If so, it will also confirm if the pregnancy is growing at a healthy pace.
They’ve drawn my blood and told me to expect the results in thirty minutes. More hell. It’s the worst kind because I know the answer is imminent.
My name is called. My legs are weak when I stand to walk so I loop my arm through Sin’s. He probably thinks I’m being affectionate but the truth is my knees could buckle at any time.
We’re taken to an exam room and left to wait. Again. Torturous.
“God, I hope I don’t have to get naked for this. I feel like I’ve shown my stuff to half the world.”
The Next Sin Page 19