Kiss Shot (Dublin Mafia: Triskelion Team, Book 2)

by Zara Keane

  “You probably heard us in the hallway,” Ruthie said gently. “Just me and Shane. No one else is here. Now please put down the knife.”

  Kevin gave a violent shake of his head and took a step closer, clutching the knife. Shane tried to move in front of Ruthie, but she sidestepped him.

  “I’m telling you,” Kevin said, “he followed me home.”

  “Who’s he?” Shane whispered to Ruthie.

  “The man in the black cloak,” Kevin said, reacting to Shane’s question but not appearing to register his presence. “He follows me everywhere. I can’t get away from him.”

  Ruthie squeezed her eyes shut, the well of helplessness and despair that she’d felt for days threatening to overwhelm her. “No one is following you, Kev. You need to go back to Dr. Jameson.”

  “All he wants to do is lock me up.” Her brother’s nostrils flared, and he gripped the handle of the knife with such force that his knuckles turned white. Sweat beaded on his pale forehead—from fear or as a result of whatever substance he’d imbibed, she couldn’t tell. While drugs exacerbated Kevin’s symptoms, they weren’t the only cause.

  “Let me put you to bed,” she said, close to tears at the sight of what her once-vibrant brother had become. “We can talk in the morning.”

  Kevin appeared to deflate before her eyes. Blinking, he stared at the knife in his hand as if seeing it for the first time. Then he let it fall to the floor, crumpling in on himself and hugging his bony chest with his thin arms. Shane stepped forward and kicked the knife out of Kevin’s reach.

  Ruthie took a step toward her brother. “Come on, Kev. You’re tired. Let me put you to bed.”

  Shane bent down to retrieve the knife. When he rose, he slipped it behind his back and mouthed, I’ll be downstairs.

  Ruthie nodded her understanding. She grabbed up her discarded top and placed a hand on Kevin’s arm before coaxing him out of her room and down the hallway to his bedroom.

  Her brother’s frail body shook and his teeth chattered. “I’m sorry, Ruthie. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Don’t think about it now. Just get some sleep.”

  Kevin allowed her to help him undress, and he raised no objection when she gave him a glass of milk to drink, even though he must have known she’d crushed a sedative into it. Once she was sure he was settled, Ruthie closed her brother’s bedroom door behind her and slipped down the stairs to the kitchen.

  Shane sat at the kitchen table, two steaming mugs before him. When Ruthie took the seat opposite, he shoved a mug over to her. She inhaled deeply and sighed. “Hot chocolate. Thank you.”

  “I thought you could do with something sweet.” He scanned the kitchen. “It’s just as I remember, right down to the joke magnets on the fridge.”

  In spite of her exhaustion, a smile crept over her face. “Like I said, Dad doesn’t notice his surroundings.” Ruthie took a sip of her hot chocolate and met Shane’s gaze over the rim of her mug. Sitting here with him felt…right. Comforting. It shouldn’t have. She should feel embarrassed, given the moves she’d put on him in yet another failed attempt to lose her virginity.

  And how would she have dealt with the issue if they had gotten as far as having sex? Hoped he didn’t notice? Most men were clueless, but not Shane. If anyone were to notice she’d never had sex before, he would.

  Among the steady stream of friends her brothers dragged home, Shane stood out from the pack. From the first moment she’d set eyes on him at the age of eight, Ruthie had known that Shane Delaney was different. He was five years her senior and in the same class as her brother Kevin. Unlike the other boys, Shane listened to her and always made a point of chatting with her when he visited her home. And here he was, in her kitchen, helping her when she felt her most vulnerable.

  Shane leaned across the table to take her hand in his. His hand felt strong and warm around hers. He’d ask her about her brother. How could he not? Ruthie trembled slightly, as she did whenever she was nervous or uncomfortable, hence her tendency to shove her hands into her pockets at every opportunity.

  “What happened to Kevin?” Shane asked gently. “I’d heard he was using, but this isn’t just a drug problem, is it?”

  Ruthie dropped her gaze to the cocoa foam coating the inside of her mug. Her shoulders ached from a weariness that was both physical and emotional. “No,” she said after a long pause. “This isn’t just drugs.”

  “What’s going on? Is Kevin’s—” he broke off, as if searching for the right word, “—situation the reason you came back to Dublin?”

  A bitter laugh rose unbidden and rumbled in her throat. If Shane only knew the extent of Kevin’s “situation”. “Yes, I came back to help Kevin.” She gave him a wan smile. “As you can see, my being here hasn’t done much good.”

  The concern in his eyes slew her. Ruthie closed her eyes as guilt burned a path from her stomach to her throat. Another guy would have left skid marks in his haste to flee from the house after Kevin pulled the knife, but not Shane Delaney. He’d even made her hot chocolate, for heaven’s sake. And here she was, plotting her way into his life to dig for dirt on him and his family.

  “What’s wrong with Kevin?” Shane asked.

  Ruthie opened her eyes and bit her lip. “My brother has what are politely described as mental health issues.” Issues…such an innocent-sounding term for a condition that had destroyed his life.

  “They must be bad to have an effect this extreme.”

  She exhaled in a whoosh. “My brother is on the bipolar spectrum.”

  “Jaysus.” His jaw dropped. “How long have you known?”

  “For years. Kevin got the diagnosis when he was eighteen, but the signs were there before.”

  Shane leaned back in his chair, frowning. “I knew Kev was moody and a bit weird, but we were geeks. Weird was a way of life.”

  “He played a good game for a long time,” Ruthie said with a sigh. “He managed to keep it together at school and with friends, but the cracks showed at home. And after a while, even his best efforts at self-control couldn’t stop him from unraveling. He started taking drugs to self-medicate, but they make him worse. When he’s high, he gets paranoid. The guy he thought was following him home was probably just one of our neighbors.”

  “Is he in treatment? Because if he isn’t, he needs to be.”

  “He’s supposed to see a doctor regularly. As you can probably guess, he’s off his meds at the moment.”

  “Can’t your father force him into treatment?” Shane demanded. “I can’t imagine anyone saying no to Big Mike.”

  She gave him a wobbly smile. “Kevin is over eighteen, and my father is unwilling to take the steps necessary to put him in a psychiatric hospital against his will.”

  “Whatever Big Mike’s reservations, this can’t continue. Kevin has to have treatment, for his sake and yours.”

  She sighed. “I know. I’m trying to persuade Dad, but it’s not easy. He’s a proud man. It’s hard for him to admit his son is mentally ill.”

  “Kevin needs help. As his next of kin, it’s your father’s responsibility to make sure he gets it. Apart from anything, Big Mike has been living with Kevin on his own for years. That has to have taken a toll on him.”

  “That’s part of the reason I’m back.” Ruthie took another sip of hot chocolate and gathered her thoughts. “Dad wants to help Kevin, but he’s not convinced that taking away his freedom is the answer. With one son already in prison and his own past, Dad doesn’t want Kevin locked up.”

  “A psychiatric hospital is different to a prison. From what you’re telling me, Kevin on medication is a different guy. If the docs get his illness under control, he might be allowed home.”

  “I know all that, but Dad’s not reasonable on this topic. He feels he let us down after Mum left. Despite his reputation, Dad’s a mush when it comes to his kids. He’d do anything to protect us, and he sees having Kevin committed as the ultimate betrayal.”

  Shane leaped up and wen
t to her side of the table. Leaning down, he pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. Ruthie leaned against him and snuggled close, relishing his warmth.

  “Thanks, Shane.”

  “Thanks for what? I didn’t do anything. I only wished I could do something to help.”

  “You were here when I needed you. That counts for a lot in my world.”

  He stroked her hair, and her scalp tingled at his touch. “Anyone would have done it, Ruthie.”

  “‘Anyone’ wasn’t here. You were.”

  “Would you like me to stay until morning?” he asked. “In case Kevin wakes up?”

  She shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but there’s no need. With the dosage I gave him, he’ll sleep until late morning, and Dad’s due home before lunch.”

  Shane squeezed her arm. “I’m sorry our evening took a crappy turn. Seeing you again has been great. I hope it won’t be the last time I see you while you’re in Kilpatrick.”

  Butterflies tickled her stomach at the sight of the wicked glint in his eye. Ruthie took the hint. “That depends on you,” she said. “You know where I live, and now—” she whipped a notepad and pen off the kitchen counter and scribbled on it, “—you have my number.”

  Shane tucked the piece of paper into his breast pocket with a bone-melting grin. “I’ll call you,” he said when she accompanied him to the door. “Maybe we can go out to dinner and have a proper catch-up.”

  Guilt wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed, but she forced the words out. This was too good an opportunity to miss. “I’d like that,” she said carefully, “and I’d like to catch up with your family. It’s been too long.”

  “I’m sure we can arrange a get-together.” He grinned and pointed to the place where Ruthie had knocked out his tooth. “Siobhan always asks after you. She loves the idea of a woman taking me down.”

  She chuckled. “Your aunt is bloodthirsty.”

  “So are you, Miss Ruthie. That’s why we get along.” He brushed back her hair. “Try to get some sleep.”

  “You, too.”

  And then Shane brushed her lips one last time and disappeared down the garden path.

  6

  At six o’clock the next morning, Shane rolled up to Dan’s gym for a kickboxing session. He was bone tired and demoralized after a fruitless Internet search session that had uncovered precisely nothing. Courtesy of his father’s demands, he was obliged to divide his research time digging into Lar’s past, as well as looking for information on the massacre at his father’s Boston club, The Lucky Leprechaun, that had claimed the lives of his oldest brother, Con, and Lar’s younger brother, Tony five years ago. Given that he had to produce results on the Boston case within a time frame that wouldn’t arouse Lar’s suspicion that Shane was working a side job, caffeine-fueled late nights were the logical solution.

  He climbed off his bike and rubbed his eyes. They felt like they’d been sandpapered. Between work stress and family tensions, seeing Ruthie and Kevin Reynolds had done a number on his equilibrium. He shouldn’t have gone back to her place, however tempting the prospect of sex with her was. He didn’t do commitment. Never had. Ruthie deserved better than a guy who swam in the murky waters of legal and moral gray zones. She needed a man who’d be there for her one hundred percent, particularly with all the crap she had going on in her life at the moment. He’d known Kevin had a drug problem, but he’d had no idea his old friend had severe mental health issues.

  Shane reached the back door of the gym and opened it with his key card. What he needed was an invigorating workout to punch out the stress. A session at the bags never failed to switch off his mind, albeit temporarily.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only Delaney with the idea of an early morning session. Dan and Lar were already at the bags. Judging by the sweat rolling off them, they’d been at it for a while.

  Shane changed into his workout gear and pulled on his gloves. When he joined his cousins at the bags, they were having a water break.

  “How’s it going?” Dan asked in his usual gruff manner, and mopped sweat from his brow. “Had the same idea as us, I see.”

  Lar nodded in greeting. “Hey, Shane. Max not with you?” His cheery smile and genuine pleasure at seeing Shane cut him to the core, bringing forth the surge of rage he experienced every time he saw his cousin these days.

  Shane drew in a deep breath. Losing his temper with Lar would achieve nothing. It wouldn’t bring him any closer to understanding why his cousin had failed to confide in him, and it would jeopardize the job he’d agreed to do for his father. “I’d say Max is snoring on my sofa. He only came home when I was leaving.”

  Dan rolled his eyes and Lar laughed. Max’s ability to party was well known.

  “He’d better have his arse in gear by this afternoon,” Dan said firmly. “I’m driving him to the airport after lunch.”

  “Max is leaving so soon?” Lar asked, frowning. “Isn’t he sticking around for your mother’s birthday party?”

  “Yeah, but he has a job to do in Berlin. He’ll fly back to Dublin on Friday.” Dan turned to Shane. “Want a sparring partner? Lar and I were about to go into the ring, but I can have a go with you first.”

  “Nah,” Shane said. “I’ll stick to the bags this morning.”

  A rare grin broke through Dan’s grumpy countenance. “Need to work off some frustration? Mum said you’d been to see your father yesterday.”

  Of course, Aunt Siobhan knew he’d been at Valentine’s. Olga had probably mentioned seeing him. And naturally, Siobhan had shared this info with her oldest son. “You know my dad,” Shane said in a breezy tone. “Never a dull moment with Frank.”

  Dan didn’t press the matter. An instant later, he stepped into the ring with Lar and started sparring. Shane chose a bag facing away from his cousins and got to work. While he’d never rival Dan as a boxer or kickboxer—few people could—Shane could hold his own in a fight.

  Jab. Hook. Right cross.

  In the background, Lar laughed at something Dan had said. Shane cranked up the volume on his earbuds to drown them out. In truth, Shane didn’t begrudge his cousin the opportunity for his freedom. The part that hurt was the personal betrayal. Why hadn’t Lar confided in him? Why hadn’t he told him the truth? Shane would’ve understood.

  If he could turn back the clock, he’d have told his father to stick his surveillance equipment up his arse. He’d have remained in blissful ignorance, never knowing that Lar had lied to him repeatedly. And yet a niggling doubt remained. If he’d been in Lar’s situation, would he have acted any differently? Locked up for a crime he didn’t commit, facing several more years in jail…under those circumstances, a deal with the spooks would be tempting.

  Unfortunately, erasing the last couple of weeks was impossible. Shane knew more than he wanted to about Lar and his girlfriend, Gen. He knew enough that would get them both killed if he were to tell his father. Which was precisely why he’d remained silent so far. Yes, Lar was a lying bastard, but Frank had screwed him over. It should have been Greg doing time, not Lar. But because Lar was still a minor, he was the chosen fall guy for the murder of a security guard during a botched robbery.

  Shane kept at the bags for almost an hour. By the end of his session, he was dripping with sweat. Grabbing his towel, he padded toward the showers. Lar had dressed and was ready to go by the time Shane emerged from the shower.

  “Is something up, Shane?” Lar asked, his forehead creased in concern. “You seem on edge lately.”

  “I’m grand,” Shane said, more abruptly than he’d intended. “I guess the research is taking its toll. I’m not having much luck finding info we didn’t already know about The Lucky Leprechaun.”

  “Are you getting enough sleep?” Lar asked. “Is your insomnia acting up again?”

  Having Lar express concern was jarring and contradicted the mental image Shane had formed of his cousin as a traitor with no genuine feelings for Shane or the rest of the family. “Seriousl
y, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

  “What did Frank want to talk to you about?”

  The question wasn’t unnatural. Lar knew Shane only went to see Frank when he was summoned. “He’s impatient with my lack of progress. Implied I wasn’t competent to do the sort of research required to get to the bottom of the case.”

  “That’s a load of bollocks. You’re a skilled hacker. If anything relevant is online, you’re the man to find it.”

  A muscle flexed in Shane’s cheek. Oh, yeah…he knew all about digging up dirt online. He just hadn’t expected to uncover what he had on Lar. “You know Dad,” he said in a neutral tone. “He doesn’t think I’m capable of anything.”

  Lar snorted. “Frank is a fool. He’s always underestimated you and overestimated your dumb-arse brothers.”

  Shane stepped into his underwear. Now was as good a time as any to question Lar about Frank’s accusation. “According to my father, you offed Connolly. Any idea why he’d say that?”

  Lar’s expression turned curiously blank. “No.”

  He was lying, Shane was sure of it. But why would Lar clip Connolly? He wasn’t stupid enough to agree to a hit job in his own neighborhood, so it had to be personal. “I don’t believe you,” he said, struggling to keep the hurt out of his voice but failing. “Whoever took out Connolly was a pro.”

  “I’m not the only pro in Kilpatrick.” Lar’s jaw jutted in defiance. “The place is fucking teeming with ex-paramilitaries. Jimmy pissed a few people off in his time. I guess someone decided to get even.”

  “I guess someone did.” Shane held Lar’s glare until his cousin averted his gaze.

  “Look, just drop it, okay? I can’t talk about it, and you’re better off not knowing.”

  “So there is something to know after all?” Shane pressed. The instinct he’d had in his father’s office that Frank was telling the truth crystallized. “What happened?”

  Lar closed his eyes and sighed. “I promise it’s not what you think, but I’m not in a position to talk about it.”