by Winters, KB
Ian nodded, and I could tell he didn’t have much juice left, but he said, “Yeah, there were two of them. Greek or Italian, I think.” His blue eyes bore into me, and I knew the answer without hearing the rest of it. “They knew all about my sister and some guy called Shae.”
Shit. Ivy glared at me, angry as hell and ready to fuck me up.
“Shit.” It came out like a command. “I’ll get some protection for you right away,” I said to no one in particular and pulled out my phone, ready to call in reinforcements.
They might not want my help but Ivy and Ian needed it, and they would get it.
Chapter Seventeen
Ivy
“He seems like a nice guy.” Each hour that passed, Ian seemed perkier, more energetic, but that wasn’t saying much. At least he was conscious and coherent.
By now his smirk had returned that I usually wanted to smack right off his stupid damn face. Now I just told myself to cool it. Ian was getting better. That was what counted. I shuddered to think how close I had come to losing him.
Shae had left the room a while ago, talking quietly into his phone, probably ordering one of his father’s security men to get to Ian’s room.
“He is,” I said quietly and without showing my true feelings after seeing confirmation in Shae’s eyes that he was the reason my brother had got his ass kicked.
Not even that was true, not really. I was angry as hell with myself because it was my fault for getting involved with a guy I met while he was thrown from a van in the middle of the night.
“Seems like it, you know because of the guys who beat the hell out of me just to get to him. Apparently.”
Oh that was rich, coming from him. “Guys who wouldn’t have been able to get to you if you hadn’t decided to leave the hospital just to have a little fun.”
And here we were again, my anger at Shae resurfacing, but clearly I was still pissed off at Ian, too. “Don’t even try to put this on me, Ian. You acting like a child is why you’re in this situation so don’t forget that!”
“Don’t you think I know that?”
As outrage bubbled out of me, his monitors went crazy, beeping and screeching and doing pretty much everything in their power to tell the whole world I was yelling at my brother. Who’d just woken up from a coma. Damn, I sucked at being a big sister. I needed to just shut up and be thankful my brother was awake.
“Actually I’m not sure what you know, other than I’m smothering you, Ian. Like you pointed out, you’re a grown man and free to do what you want. No matter how stupid it is. But if you want to prove that, maybe don’t do stupid shit like leaving the hospital to drink beer with your buddies before the doctor tells you to.”
“I got it, okay?”
“Everything all right in here?” Another nurse, a young black woman with an adorable pixie style cut stepped inside, a concern on her cocoa brown face.
“Yep. Just a little disagreement between siblings.” I smiled sweetly to alleviate her worry.
“Your brother needs to rest,” she said, her words stern and edged with something that sounded a lot like anger.
“You’re right. He does.” I turned to Ian and gave him one final look that was equal parts love and disgust.
“I’m leaving right now, so don’t worry, nurse. The patient is all yours.”
I picked up my bag and got ready to get the hell out of there. Home was where I needed to be. Alone with just me and my thoughts.
“Ivy, wait.”
I gave him a questioning look. “You need to get better Ian, and I’m not sure you can do that with me here. If you need anything, call.”
He nodded but I could see the pain in his eyes because they mirrored exactly the pain in my heart to leave my brother like this. “And if I don’t need anything?”
“Then maybe you can just call me to talk.” That might be nice for a change. For all Ian’s talk of needing space and independence, he rarely called or stopped by just to check on me. Usually he needed or wanted something like a meal or a load of laundry washed.
“I call,” he said defensively.
“Sure you do. When you remember the last time you did, let me know.” I pressed a kiss on his forehead, smoothed his wild curls and walked toward the door. “Love you, baby brother.”
“Love you too, sis. Even though you make my monitors go crazy.”
Ian flashed a good-natured smile that I returned before slipping out of his room. I searched the hall and didn’t see Shea, so I snuck out of the hospital altogether.
To the comfort, the silence of my own space.
Where I could obsess about the foolish decisions I’d made that contributed to my brother’s pain. And it was foolish. I was under no illusions about it. I made the choice to sleep with Shae without knowing much, hell anything, about him. I let him come to my house, where he was probably followed by the guys who beat him up and then gave Ian an ass-kicking, too.
“What in the hell was I thinking?” That was the question I kept asking myself all night and well into the next morning as I sat in the same spot at the end of the sofa and stared at the black TV screen. Why did I sleep with him? Why did I do it more than once?
It wasn’t just because it felt good, I knew that much. Sex for the sake of sex or a few hours of pleasure just wasn’t my style. With Shae, though, I hadn’t thought twice about it, that was if I was even thinking at all.
Something about all that bad boy goodness wrapped up in a sexy package that I just couldn’t resist. And it hurt someone I love.
It was unacceptable but it was also irrelevant because Shae and I had both agreed that we weren’t right together. We were strangers who got caught up in lust and nothing more.
Something I needed to remember no matter what happened next.
Chapter Eighteen
Shae
“This is fucking bullshit and we all know it, E-Dawg.” Just the thought of the fucking Milanos creeping around Ivy and her brother had me so heated I was ready to go fuck them up on my own, a stupid move that would get me killed if I was dumb enough to see it through.
“It is, Shae, but we have to be smart. Going off half-cocked because we’re pissed isn’t what Connelly’s do.” I knew Eamon was right but that didn’t mean I wanted to hear that shit.
“Yeah, I know.”
Rourke stepped up and stood beside me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got Shamrock at the hospital on the brother, and Fred is on his way to sit outside your girl’s house.”
“She’s not my girl.” The defense came automatically, making Rourke and Eamon smirk like assholes.
“Then explain to me why we’re wasting resources to protect this little girl and her brother?” Patrick’s outburst didn’t surprise me. He didn’t suffer fools gladly or any other way. The man didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body that extended to anyone outside the Family.
I turned to my father, incredulous. “How about because she saved my life when those assholes dropped me off at the ass end of the hospital? Who knows how long I would’ve been out there if not for her?”
Arms crossed and face angry, I stared at my dad and he stared back, a silent standoff that I wouldn’t be losing tonight. Not this fucking time.
Patrick nodded, his lips pulled into a tight grin. “Fine. They’ll have Connelly protection. I hope we don’t live to regret it,” he added, a threat I knew not to take lightly.
“We won’t,” I told him even though the ‘we’ in question was me and me alone. “Her brother is in this position because she helped me, and now the Milanos think she’s somehow connected to us.”
“And she isn’t?” I knew what he wanted to know, and I shook my head.
“She’s connected to me, but only since we met a few days ago. She knows my father is Patrick Connelly, and she thinks I’m some rich playboy who was slumming it with her.”
Patrick’s keen eyes narrowed, and a beat later a smile formed on his thin lips as a laugh erupted out of him. “Damn b
oy, you’ve got your work cut out for you if that face and your wealth can’t keep a woman satisfied.”
“Who the fuck said she wasn’t satisfied?”
That only made them all laugh like I’d told the funniest fucking joke around.
“Anyway, it’s complicated, but that doesn’t mean Ivy and Ian don’t deserve our help.”
“And they’ll have it,” Patrick said, already tired of this conversation from the sting in his voice. “Now can we talk about actual business?”
After a beat of silence, talk turned back to the family business from the casinos and game rooms to the whorehouses and restaurants with our fingerprints all over them. Then talk turned to the Milano family.
“They’ve been flashing cash all over town and talking shit to anyone willing to listen or pretend to listen,” Rourke said, practically vibrating with anger. We have to do something. Soon.”
Patrick nodded slowly, his eyes missing nothing as the future of the Connelly’s stared back at him. “I agree. Find out where the Milano pricks are hiding, and we’ll decide which of them to take out first.”
Eamon nodded his agreement. With his hands on his hips he could have been Patrick thirty years ago. “I think we should consider Gio. Frank’s the unstable one, most likely to make mistakes if he’s left on his own.”
Rourke nodded. “And the most likely to resent Daniel for being the favored son.”
“Power struggle within the organization can only spell good things for us,” Eamon added.
“That’s right, all of you. Rourke grab some men for surveillance tonight and find out where they’re staying. Eamon, I want you to see if that bastard Lorenzo is in town and get me all the details, then meet up with Shae to make sure the Coconut Hut is ready for a Milano guest.”
My eyes lit up at Patrick’s words. The Coconut Hut was a now defunct suntan lotion factory. I’d convinced him to buy it a few years ago because it was just far enough out of town that nosy neighbors wouldn’t broadcast our business and just close enough to a major interstate that no sounds could be heard. Especially when the machines were grinding away.
“Sounds like a damn good plan.” I said.
“Glad you approve, son.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me, but I chose to ignore it because by this time tomorrow my knuckles and my knife would drip Milano blood. “Now get the hell outta here. Unlike you boys, I have a lady friend coming over.”
Eamon snorted. “You know a lady?”
“Let’s hope she only eats dinner like a lady,” he joked and wiggled his eyebrows for good measure. Just in case we didn’t get the sex joke.
Patrick snickered. “I’m headed home to pour bleach down my ears. Text me when you’re ready to meet up, E-money.”
Everyone laughed behind me like it was no big deal to hear Patrick talking about his sex life, but by the time I made it out to my car I noticed they were both headed to their rides as well.
Since I had a few hours to kill before meeting up with Eamon, I decided to go home but not alone, so I pulled out my phone. “Hey, Fred, I need a favor.”
***
“You!”
Ivy’s small hands pushed deep into my chest the moment she set those pretty deep blues on me. I could have pretended that she didn’t push with more force than expected, but it caught me off guard. “You are a heavy-handed asshole!”
“Ivy, calm—”
“No!” She pushed me again, using all her might. “Don’t tell me to calm down when you’ve sent one of your goons to manhandle me! To kidnap me.”
She pushed me again, clearly not ready to calm down. “Just because your daddy has more money than God doesn’t mean you get to have me placed where you want me. I’m not some fucking glass figurine you can own, Shae!”
“I know.” She was right. It was a dick move, but it was for her own damn safety. Fred had delivered her to my house. I guessed that was a polite way of saying it.
“Congratulations,” she said bitterly. “Now tell me why this was all necessary.” Arms crossed with a face full of anger, Ivy waited for an answer.
I gave myself a minute just to soak her in. She wore a simple outfit, curve-hugging black denim jeans and a black tank top that cupped her tits the way my hands itched to do. A far cry from the dumpy outfit she wore the first time I saw her. The hot pink sneakers only upped her cute factor, a thought I kept to myself because of the murderous look on her face. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Did I ask for your fucking help, Shae? No, I didn’t. That’s because contrary to what you seem to believe, I am a fully functioning adult capable of taking care of my own damn self. Besides it seems you’re the reason I need help in the first place.”
Dammit, she was cute when she was pissed off. “Yeah, that’s fair, but that’s exactly why I’m keeping you safe. It’s my fault this happened to your brother, which means it’s my responsibility to keep you both safe until this problem is … resolved.” We were already working on solving this particular problem but she didn’t need to know that. “I promise.”
“I don’t need your promises, Shae. Besides, what does a promise from a stranger mean to me?”
Everything about Ivy, from the stubborn set of her shoulders to the ‘don’t fuck with me’ look on her face said she meant every word.
“I’m not exactly a stranger, am I?” I traced a finger down the slope of her bicep, hoping that a little physical contact would soften her attitude toward me.
Ivy shrugged away from me with an evil glare. “Yeah, you are. We slept together. Casually. That doesn’t make us anything more than two people who spent a night together.”
“More than once.”
“And I had to throw a tantrum just to get your last name out of you, Shae. Don’t pretend like there’s something more between us just so you can get your way. In the real world, you can’t just bully or pay people to get what you want from them.”
“Ouch.”
“Too much truth for you?” She shook her head, strawberry blonde hair falling around her shoulders and giving her a more delicate look than the flames that shot from her eyes. “Look, I’m not here for your rich boy games. Tell me what the hell is going on and don’t say it’s a work problem!”
Rich boy. It was almost too funny not to laugh, but I knew if I laughed right now she’d slap the shit out of me and probably leave, which wouldn’t allow me to keep her safe. “Fine. You want to know the truth, I’ll tell you. Over a drink.”
“Now, Shae. No more bullshit.”
I turned on my heels and went deeper inside the house to the bar because Ivy might be tough in her own right, but this news would require booze. Strong, smooth Irish whiskey to be exact.
“On the rocks or neat?” She blinked, confused but still angry. “Your drink, neat or on the rocks?”
“I don’t want a goddamn drink, Shae. Tell me what the hell you’ve got my family mixed up in and tell me now. Now.”
My shoulders slumped at her carefully chosen phrase that was dead ass accurate. I had gotten her family mixed up in the deep end of bullshit. So okay, we’d have to do it her way. But that was only as far as the story went. “You’ve heard of my dad because of the casino business, right?”
She nodded and took a step closer as I pulled down the twenty-six-year-old Glenfiddich and poured two fingers into each glass. Whether she liked it or not.
“Well, the part that no one talks about but everyone knows is that he is also the head of the Connelly crime syndicate.”
That was as delicately as I could think to put it, but Ivy’s expression was still inscrutable. Totally fucking unreadable.
“Crime syndicate,” she muttered to herself and shook her head. “So your dad, and you, are in the fuckin’ mob?”
Well that was an easier way to phrase it. “Yeah. We’ve been running games in this town on and off the books since my grandpa Seamus came over in the fifties.”
“The mob.” She damn near choked on the word. “So you’re in the mob and y
our fight with these other guys is related to that?”
I nodded, getting ready to explain while she gathered her thoughts, but Ivy was in no mood to listen. “And my brother’s injuries, his coma are because of some mob war?”
My lips twitched at how easily the words rolled off her tongue, but her glare warned me that any further displays of amusement might be detrimental to my health. “It’s not a war, yet and if my family has our way it won’t get that far.” I handed her one of the two glasses.
“Macho bullshit is what this all sounds like to me.” She smacked my hand away angrily. “I don’t want anything to drink, dammit. What I want is for you to let these mob men know that my brother and I have nothing at all to do with your mob business.”
“Sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not your sweetheart.”
I smiled at her feisty response, loving that, despite the fear burning in those beautiful eyes, she was still able to bust my balls. “Ivy, that ain’t gonna work, sweetheart.”
At her glare, I did laugh. “Look, be pissed off at me all you want but my family and our men will keep you and Ian safe until this shit all blows over.”
“But—”
“No buts, Ivy. It’s naïve to think we can go tell the Milano family that the Anders aren’t under our protection and they’ll just leave you alone. It doesn’t work like that.”
I hated that my family had put Ivy and Ian in danger, but I would use the opportunity to get what I wanted. More time with Ivy.
“This sucks,” she said on a disappointed sigh. “That still doesn’t explain why you had that big ass guy pick me up and force me here. Physically.”
I shrugged because I wasn’t sorry about my methods. Fred was an ace at handling difficult women because he had two troublesome seventeen-year-old twin sisters. I couldn’t even go there.
“I knew you wouldn’t come if he’d asked nicely.”
“I might have.”
“Next time we’ll test that theory, won’t we?” I finished my drink and slammed it down on the bar and took a step closer. Ivy moved away and notched her chin up high.