“You okay?” I asked, kissing the tip of her nose.
Her gorgeous blue eyes popped open, and her mouth quirked into a smile. “Let’s do that again.”
I kissed her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, my body still sheathed inside hers. “Give me a few minutes,” I said and reluctantly pulled out, tossing the condom and getting a fresh one.
Then I was back, happy to oblige.
***
The next morning, I made Amelia pancakes and was brewing a second round of coffee when my phone chirped. Looking down at the text message, I saw that it was Brennan. It was Sunday, but he never took a day off.
Bad news. Duffys broke a few windows at Jack Byrne’s place. On my way.
I sighed and closed my eyes as I set the phone on the counter. These assholes were relentless.
More than anything, I wanted Amelia to enjoy her last few minutes of peace before Brennan arrived and broke the news, but I also knew that she was a grown woman and deserved to know the truth right away. She was pawing through the Sunday paper as I sat down beside her with a fresh cup of coffee.
“Brennan just messaged me. There was some trouble at your parents’ last night. He’s on his way over.”
She froze, her fingers tightening on the paper. Her eyes searched my face, and I knew she was looking for clues as to how bad the “trouble” was.
I stroked her cheek with my fingers. “They’re okay. I promise. A couple broken windows is all he said. He’ll tell us more when he gets here.”
A few minutes later, as promised, Brennan was sitting across from us at the table with a coffee in his own hands.
“It was after midnight, according to the local cops, and it was the front window to the right side and the one in the kitchen,” he explained. “Nobody was hurt, and your mother was pretty pissed because she said it knocked over her ficus tree.”
Amelia snorted at that, and I was grateful to hear it.
“She loves that damn thing more than she loves her kids sometimes,” she said with a grin. Her face sobered, and I could see the fear return. “My dad pretty upset?” Brennan gave her an easy shrug, but I didn’t miss the tightness of his face. She scowled. “Don’t lie to me, Brennan.”
The big guy relented like I knew he would. “Yeah, he might have tried to grab the bat out of his truck and handle things himself.”
She smiled. It was small, but the curve of her lips was evident. “You didn’t let him, did you?”
Of course he didn’t, but I understood her worry. “Nope,” he said, looking at me because I didn’t know this part of the story yet. “We actually took them over to The Capstone for a couple nights while it gets cleaned up and we make sure the Duffys don’t try anything else.”
“And Pop was okay with leaving the house?” She seemed surprised.
“Yeah,” Brennan said, looking from Amelia to me. “All I had to do was promise your mom a couple spa passes, and she had Jack Sr. all packed up and ready to go in less than ten minutes.”
Smooth bastard. I grinned at my friend with sincere appreciation. It couldn’t have been easy to convince a man as proud as Jack Byrne to leave his home if it was under attack.
“Well, thank you,” she said, getting a noncommittal nod from Brennan. “And you.”
She said that last part to me, and I found myself unsure of what to say. I’d expected her to fight me or to demand to pay for it herself. But it was clear she was worried about her parents and was glad they were out of the neighborhood for now.
And so was I.
I hadn’t expected the Duffys to do something this stupid this quickly. It seemed they were in a bigger rush to cause trouble and chaos than I’d originally thought.
“My pleasure,” I replied and jumped into planning mode for the next few days. “What kind of watch do we have on the house?”
Two steps ahead of me, Brennan was already on it. “Round the clock right now. The business too. Nobody’s seen JJ yet, but Jack Sr. said he’s at a friend’s house right now. He should be fine as long as he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
Amelia rolled her eyes at that, probably composing a list of one hundred stupid things her brother was probably doing at this very moment. I had to laugh at how aware she was of her brother’s personality.
JJ Byrne wasn’t a bad guy, never had been. The trouble with him was that he tried too hard — to be good at sports, to get a girlfriend, to get himself rich in business. Whatever was out there, JJ wanted it, but he wanted the faster path to it. He was a weakling, sadly, and nothing that Jack Sr. ever tried worked. No amount of sports camps or boxing coaches, no tutors or pricey equipment could inspire JJ to get his ass in the trenches and do the work.
And now, it seemed, the idiot was putting himself and his whole family at risk thanks to his misguided need to “be somebody.”
“If I didn’t know for sure that it was Michael, I’d swear my brother’s middle name was ‘stupid’ at this point,” Amelia said softly, dropping her face into her hands.
“It’ll work out,” I said to her, fully meaning it. I could tell she didn’t want to lean too hard on me, but I was a patient man and could wait her out. “Your family will be safe, and this will all be over eventually.”
I hoped she believed me, but I wasn’t sure if I believed myself.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Amelia
Declan was everywhere in my life.
In my thoughts. Next to me when I slept. Beside me as he drove me to work. On the phone with my father as he helped Pop work out how best to deal with the nightmare this idiot family was causing us.
Later that week, my mother and father came to the restaurant — literally rode the elevator a few floors down — and met me for lunch. My shift was technically over, and the manager on duty was a sweetheart who’d seen my parents every day since their arrival.
According to Brennan, there were still guys sniffing around the house every couple hours, and even though Brennan’s men scared them away, they still came back to see if anyone from the family was home. Declan was irate, and it was Brennan’s even temper that probably kept him from doing something more drastic than spying on the people who were spying on my family.
Pop was about as uncomfortable with all the help as I was, but Brennan and Declan were tactical geniuses and went through my mother to get the support they needed. They gave her all-access spa and restaurant passes to cajole her to stay while it worked itself out, and Finn even set Pop up in an office somewhere on the administration side of the hotel where he could get some work done in peace. I’d done a decent enough job digitizing his files for him that it wasn’t too hard to run the current projects remotely and bidding for new jobs was a snap, it turned out.
“I still don’t like it,” he grumbled over his fancy salad. Mom made him eat it. She’d been all over him since the diagnosis, and since the stubborn old man still hadn’t coordinated a surgery date, she watched him like a hawk and limited the “fun” stuff in his life — like booze, fried food, and caffeine.
“The stuff that makes life worth living,” he groused as he angrily stabbed at his bed of lettuce leaves.
Pop’s phone chirped on the table, and he glanced at the message.
“Casey’s sending a few guys to the jobsite I need to check-in on this afternoon,” he said, and I noticed that he got a little less bitter each time he mentioned the situation. Not that he was getting used to being protected by Declan Casey.
“You’re okay with that, right?” I watched him as he sipped his water with lemon, my mother having vetoed his normal soda.
“I’m fine with it,” he said with a sigh. He’d taken the whole thing relatively well, but I didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes or the fact that his cheeks were more sunken in. He was losing weight. And coupled with the fact that my mother was on him like a hawk, I gathered that he hadn’t been feeling the best lately. Getting your son beat up, your daughter involved in assault and battery, and your home attacked probably made stayi
ng healthy after a cancer diagnosis tricky, to say the least.
“You’re a liar,” I said with a shake of my head. Pop didn’t deny it outright, though.
“I want us all to be okay, Amelia.” He met my gaze, and I could see the frustration in his eyes. “And sometimes you gotta do things that sting your pride a little to make things okay for the people you love.”
I swallowed at the emotion in his voice and stabbed at my own piece of haddock. I wasn’t the best with emotions. I took after my father in that respect, and it was easier for me not to acknowledge something difficult or painful like that. I’d rather stuff a bite of white fish into my mouth than to try to find words to comfort my father right now.
I hated myself for it, but I was who I was.
And, apparently, after shoving a mouthful of hated salad in his mouth, it was who my father was as well.
Peas in a pod, my mother had always called us.
“Are you enjoying your stay at Declan’s?”
My mother’s question hung awkwardly in the air. What did she mean, exactly? Again, my father took another huge bite of lettuce and grilled chicken and wouldn’t make eye contact with me. He was likely in denial that I was in my mid-twenties and more than likely sleeping with the guy. Poor Pop.
“Sure,” I said slowly, wondering how treacherous the ice was that she was dragging me out on to. “Why? Miss me? I’m sure Finn could find a room for me here?”
I wasn’t exactly trying to stay with them at the hotel, but part of me felt guilty that I wasn’t here for them. My mother, however, nearly jumped down my throat at the offer, giving me a resounding, “No.” She lowered her voice, looking around. “That’s not what I meant at all, Amelia. We’re perfectly happy here. You stay there as long as you need.”
I frowned at her words. As long as I needed?
“What’s going on?” I asked, the suspicion in my voice clear. “Are you trying to keep me away or something?”
This was so unlike my mother, who would pull out blankets and sofa beds to make room for anyone who needed it. She loved to pile all of us cousins in on top of one another back when we were younger.
“I don’t mean anything, honey,” she began, her hand covering mine and squeezing. It almost felt like I was getting dumped. “But your father and I have really been enjoying our time together. So, as long as you’re not putting Declan out, it’s kind of nice to have him to myself finally.”
My father’s face was about as red as the slice of beet he’d been avoiding all through the meal. He hated beets. I swallowed the water I was drinking too fast and nearly drowned myself, sputtering and coughing.
My mother handed me a few extra napkins, and I tried to wipe myself down.
“You understand, don’t you? It’s just that we never really got alone time with your brother living with us, and the past few days have been, um, extra special for our marriage—”
“Mom!” I yelled, ready to put my fingers in my ears and start singing la la la at the top of my lungs if she didn’t stop right there.
“That’s enough, dear,” Pop finally spoke up, hushing my mother with the promise of a chocolate cake she’d been talking about earlier.
“You’re not upset, are you?”
My poor mother. Always trying to keep the family happy and glued together.
“It’s fine,” I said with a smile because it really was. “I promise. I just didn’t want you guys thinking I was abandoning you.”
“Well, I don’t mean to cut and run, dear, but your father and I have a couple’s massage in ten minutes, and I don’t want to be late,” she said as she pushed her chair back and stood. “You know how these massage therapists can be.”
Actually, I had no clue how they could be, and I was pretty sure she didn’t really know, either. But she was in Rome and doing as Romans did, I supposed.
“Sounds great,” I said with a smile. “I’m heading over to Layton Street to do a little window shopping.”
I had plans to binge watch television tonight with Declan after he came home from work, but I still had a few hours until then and didn’t want to wait around his empty apartment by myself.
That, and I needed a little fresh air and a little more space between me and the gorgeous man who had invaded my mind, my body, and my day-to-day existence since I first saw him in the medical center a couple weeks ago. How it had gone from zero to crashing his penthouse in such a short time was beyond me, and I knew I’d do well not to get myself too wrapped up in him.
Well, not much more wrapped up in him than I already was.
Mom gave me a huge kiss on the cheek and Pop awkwardly patted my back before scurrying away, probably still mortified at the near-comment my mother made at the table about his sex life.
I took a rideshare over to Layton and hopped out, hoping the fact that I’d changed out of my chef jacket and pants meant that I no longer smelled like a kitchen. There was nothing worse than having a stranger sniff the area around you and ask if someone was cooking garlic.
Without much I’d be able to do about it anyway, I went on with my shopping and wandered to the first store nearby. An accessory store. I liked accessories. A lot. Because my professional uniform was limited and pretty strict, pretty earrings — studs, never dangling — were my love language. I’d worn everything from studs that said “Dirtbag” on them to small, 3D succulent cacti. They were my thing.
I’d just set aside a couple pairs when my cell phone rang. The number wasn’t one I knew, and for a split second, I considered letting it go to voicemail, but with everything up in the air the way it was, I didn’t want to risk missing an important message from my father.
“Hello.”
“Is this Amelia Byrne? Daughter of Jack Byrne of Dorchester?”
Damn. I regretted answering but figured it was too late to hang up.
“It is.”
“Amelia, this is Trevor Leonard. Remember me? How are you? How have you been?”
Trevor Leonard. I frowned at the name. It’d been years since I talked to him. In fact, the last time I saw Trevor, I’d been in my final semester of culinary school and met him at a bar while I was visiting my parents. It’d been a few dates, a few late-night make-out sessions with a cute, kind of nerdy law student to pass my time before heading back to Savannah. We’d been Facebook friends over the years but nothing else.
“Wow, Trevor. What a surprise. What’s going on?” I felt like I probably sounded wooden and stiff, but it was the best I could do. I was really thrown for a loop.
“Well, unfortunately, I’m calling on somewhat official terms. Nothing bad, it’s just I was hoping to meet with you today and talk about the incident with Gentry James. I’m an assistant prosecutor here at the District Attorney’s office, and the case came across my desk.”
My heart dropped through the floor and landed with a thud in my stomach. Trevor hadn’t exactly said that I was in trouble, but it didn’t matter. I wheezed a breath in and squeaked out a reply. “Oh. Seriously?”
It wasn’t my best response and staying conscious with the lack of air I was getting was becoming more difficult.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s no big deal, really. I just want to ask you a few questions.”
I blinked and looked around, suddenly unaware of my surroundings as my world closed in on me. Looking down, I had earrings in my hand as I was making my way toward the front door of the shop. Panicking, I spun around and set the earrings on the counter before walking outside to finish the call.
Thoughts raced through my mind about how serious this was. Was it real? Was Trevor just in on some intricate, twisted joke? What about my brother? Was he in trouble for something? How bad was the James guy, anyway? Was I going to jail? What about my father?
Sucking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and put my hand against my head, willing my brain to slow down for just one second so I could wade through it all.
“What are you saying, Trevor? I’m freaking out a little here, and you have
n’t really said much.”
“Don’t stress, Amelia,” Trevor said, his voice reassuring. “I just wanted to ask you a couple things, maybe go over what happened.”
I paused. “Isn’t that something the police would do?”
He didn’t respond at first, and I wondered if I had said something wrong. I wasn’t a lawyer or a cop, but I’d seen so many police procedural reruns sitting with Pop on the couch these days, I damn sure felt like I could have been. Prosecutors come in later in the game — to put the bad guy away. And since nobody had been charged, wouldn’t that mean the police were still investigating just what James and his little goons were doing to my brother?
“They are,” he said. “I just saw your name on the initial report as it came through and wanted to reach out.”
Surprising.
“Oh, well, I haven’t talked to a lawyer about pressing charges or anything. I’m not there yet.”
Trevor gave a short laugh before clearing his throat. “I’m not sure you understand, Amelia. It seems the question isn’t whether or not you’re pressing charges against them. It’s whether they’re pressing charges against you. And worse than that, whether the state is going to look at charging you with assault and battery.”
I swore under my breath.
“Amelia, really, just meet up with me and let me ask you a couple questions,” he said. “It’ll be good to see you again too. Believe it or not, I’ve missed you over the years. Everything is fine, I swear.”
There was a nagging feeling at the back of my head that was telling me that I should slow the hell down and think this through, but mostly I wanted to tell Trevor and the D.A.’s office whatever it was they wanted to know and get on with my life. I didn’t want this to be dragging around me like some dead weight when it was time to start getting serious about getting Pop well again.
And there was my idiot brother to consider. If I could clear up any misunderstanding, maybe there was a chance that JJ would be scared into making better decisions after his major screw up. I still hadn’t gotten to talk to him about anything because the coward was hiding at his girlfriend’s and refusing to come out to The Capstone and talk to our parents.
Claiming Amelia Page 14