“What do you intend to do with the shop?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve not decided yet.”
“Seems as though there may be many treasures to be found in it.”
“Doubtful, even under all the layers of dust.”
“You never know. Perhaps you’d even find the lost jewels.”
His nervous laugh and the way he blinked his eyes in rapid succession told me I was on the right track. In fact, I’d lay odds that the lost Irish treasure was being held in the safe he hadn’t wanted me to see.
25
Smoke
Meet me at Lyon Metropolis, urgent, said the text I received from Casper.
Here, I responded.
Be there in fifteen.
Shortly after, my cell phone rang with a call from Decker.
“Smoke,” he said. “I’m glad I reached you. One of Byrne’s underlings is on the move.”
“Headed to Kinsale?”
“Yep. Casper already told you?”
“She’s on her way here now. My guess is to inform me of the same thing.”
“I have a bad feeling.”
So did I, and I wasn’t about to stay in Lyon while Siren faced danger in my grandmother’s hometown, or anywhere else in the world, for that matter.
* * *
There was no way around it, I had to fly to Charles de Gaulle first and, from there, to Dublin. Once there, it would take me three hours to drive to Kinsale. Even with the shortest connections, total travel time would be more than ten hours.
According to Casper, the agent Decker had informed me was on the move had a two-hour jump on me. While I waited to board the first plane, I called Deck back.
“Can you get a contact number for Siren?”
“Negative. Already tried.”
“Hughes?”
“Won’t give it up.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Best guess is Siren told him not to.”
A growling noise rumbled in my throat. When I got my hands on that woman, and I had every intention of doing so, the first thing I’d do is wring her neck. After that, I’d fuck her senseless.
* * *
While I was in flight, both Casper and Decker were gathering as much information as they could regarding Siren’s whereabouts now and where she’d been since she arrived in Kinsale.
When I landed in Paris, I had emails from both of them, containing essentially the same information. Five days ago, Siren had visited an antique shop owned by a man by the name of James Mallory, the grandson of a man who’d not only owned the business before passing it on to James’ father, but had confessed to hiding the Irish Crown Jewels on behalf of Sir Arthur Vicars, the man last known to be in possession of them.
Her pursuit of solving this mystery was slightly curious although nowhere near as baffling as why the current head of IMI had any interest in her doing so. It wasn’t as though the missing jewels had tremendous value. They consisted of only two pieces, valued today at twenty million at best.
They were not even linked to any monarchy but, instead, to the Order of St. Patrick, an elite aristocratic order founded in 1783. The last knight of the order, who would’ve been the one to wear the regalia, had died in 1974. Even if there had been successors, they wouldn’t have owned the jewels; they would merely have been in possession of them.
Apart from it being Ireland’s greatest mystery, there seemed to be little reason why anyone would pursue finding them. And then the accolades would only be in notoriety—something Siren wouldn’t want or could afford in her line of work.
According to Decker, since her first visit a day prior, it appeared Siren was surveilling the antique shop but, according to the security footage Deck had hacked into, hadn’t been back inside.
Once in Dublin, I rented a car and drove to Kinsale. A feeling of foreboding settled in my chest and grew increasingly worse with every kilometer I traveled. Siren was in danger, I swore I could sense it.
I was halfway there when a call came through from Decker. I pulled to the side of the road before answering.
“What’s up?”
“I had two agents that were in Dublin take a drive down to Kinsale to visit the antique store Siren’s been so fascinated with.”
“And?”
“They went in as a couple, and while the woman engaged the shop owner, the man took a look around. They both reported that the guy, James Mallory, seemed agitated by their presence, particularly when the pair split up. When one of the agents got to the back of the store, he saw an office and, beyond it, an old safe in a storage room. Mallory charged past him and slammed the door closed.”
In Siren’s words, the feckin’ eejit just drew more attention to the safe than he otherwise would have. “There’s something in it that he doesn’t want anyone to know about.”
“I’d agree.”
“Anything else?”
When Decker said there wasn’t, I thanked him and ended the call.
* * *
I drove directly to Mallory’s antique shop rather than stop again. As I rounded the corner, I was horrified by the sight in front of me.
Fire trucks surrounded what I could only assume was my destination, now a smoldering, blackened shell. I pulled up, parked a safe distance away, and was surveying the scene when I saw someone race past one of the firefighters and into the building—Siren!
I rushed past the same men she had. “Siren!” I called out. “Siobhan! Where the fuck are you?”
I knew she was headed to the back of the shop where Decker said the agents had seen the safe. “Siren!” I yelled again, staying low to the ground, hoping to get a glimpse of her through the haze of smoke.
As if it were a special effect, the cloud suddenly cleared, and in front of me stood the woman I’d hated and loved equally in the months I’d known her.
“Get out of here, Smoke. This is none of your concern,” she shouted.
“It may not be,” I said, taking a step in her direction. “But you are. Let me help you, Siobhan.”
“I was never your concern, Broderick, except to play with.” Her Irish brogue was thick, like when she was about to cry.
“Please.” I took another step closer and held out my hand. Before I was near enough for her to take it, I heard a crack above us. I dove in her direction, covering her body with mine as the still-smoldering ceiling came crashing down on us both. Through my thin shirt, I could feel the heat singe my skin and gritted my teeth against the excruciating pain. With one arm, I shoved the rafters off of us and then heard another crack.
“We have to get the fuck out of here.”
When Siren didn’t respond, I realized her eyes were closed. She was breathing, but the force of my body hitting hers to the ground must have knocked her out. I gathered her into my arms, stood, and raced toward the closest light I could see coming from the back of the building. I was just about to the door when I almost tripped. I looked down and saw a body lying in a heap on the floor.
“Help!” I shouted, running out of the building and around to the front. “There’s someone else in there,” I yelled to men rushing toward me. “Not far from the back door.”
“Get a medic!” one of them shouted in the direction of the truck. “He’s injured!”
I was within a few feet of what looked like an ambulance when Siren came to and immediately began struggling. “Smoke, put me down, I have to get back in there!” she cried.
“Forget the fucking safe; it doesn’t matter, Siobhan.” I’d set her on her feet, but kept my grip tight on her arm when the pain in my back got so bad I feared I’d lose consciousness.
“Not the safe, it’s Jimmy. He’s in there!” She wrenched her arm away, and we both turned when we heard shouting coming from the building as one of the firefighters ran out with a body in his arms.
“He’s alive!” I heard one of them shout as they ran past us.
“Smoke! You’re burned!” Siren screeched, pulling me toward the ambulan
ce. “We need help over here!”
I took a step, and everything went black.
26
Siren
“Help!” I screamed when I saw Smoke about to go down, knowing there was no way I was strong enough to catch him. Two guys raced over.
“Get a gurney over here!” one of them yelled, keeping Smoke from rolling onto his back.
I knelt beside him, and he opened his eyes. “You eejit, what were you thinking?” I said, cupping his cheek with my palm.
“Had to…save…you.” He groaned through gritted teeth as the men shifted his body onto the gurney. I had to turn my head away when I saw the extent of the burns on his back.
“I want to go with him,” I said when they put him in the back of the ambulance.
“Not a good idea,” said one of them.
“She can ride up front,” said another who took my hand and led me to the passenger door.
I prayed the entire way to the emergency room and prayed more when they wheeled Smoke inside.
“Do you know if Jimmy is okay?” I asked the man who’d been driving the ambulance and who was walking me inside the hospital.
“I don’t,” he answered.
“Are they bringing him here?”
“I don’t know.” He led me over to a desk. “They’ll need some information from you,” he said before walking away.
“Do you know the man who was just brought in?” the woman sitting at the desk asked.
“I do.”
“Name?”
“His or mine?”
“Both.”
In the midst of answering her questions, it dawned on me that I remembered—everything. I remembered everything. Every memory I hadn’t been able to pull to the front of my brain, was suddenly back.
“Age?” she asked.
“Thirty-eight. He’ll be thirty-nine at the end of this month.”
“What about family?”
“He doesn’t have any.” I pulled my phone from my pocket only to find it had been crushed, probably when Smoke landed on top of me.
“Do you know if he was conscious when they brought him in?”
“He was. Um, is there a phone somewhere I could use?”
“Let me get through these questions, and then I’ll see what I can do.”
A man dressed in scrubs approached from behind the woman. “Are you Siren?”
“I am.”
“He’s asking for you.”
“Are we finished?” I asked, standing to follow when the man motioned for me to.
“I know where to find you if I have more questions.”
“I’m Leo, one of Mr. Torcher’s nurses,” the man who led me into the room where Smoke lay on his stomach with his eyes closed said. “They gave him something for the pain. I think it knocked him out cold.”
“Nothing knocks me out cold,” Smoke muttered, opening one eye.
I pulled a chair up beside him. “Seems our positions have reversed. Thanks for saving my life, Smoke. For the second time, it seems.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop putting yourself in danger, so I didn’t have to.”
“What are you doing in Ireland?”
“Looking for you.”
“Why?”
“You left without saying goodbye.”
“I didn’t think you’d care.”
The door opened, and two other people walked in. “I’m Dr. O’Keefe, and this is Dr. Flynn. We’re from the burn unit.” The man who’d just introduced himself turned to me. “Young lady, we’ll need you to step outside.”
I stood, leaned down, and kissed Smoke’s cheek. “I’m not going far.” Once the door closed behind me, I leaned up against the wall and put my head in my hands. I still had adrenaline coursing through my body, and when it wore off, I knew the crash was going to be a hard one.
“Miss?”
I looked up to see the nurse from the check-in desk. “More questions?”
“No,” she said, handing me a phone. “I forgot you asked to use one.”
“Thanks.”
I rang one of the few numbers I knew by heart.
“Hughes,” I said when he picked up.
“Siren. What can I do for you?”
“I need to get in touch with Decker Ashford, and, um, I don’t have my mobile.”
“What happened to it?”
“It was crushed when I was trapped inside a burning building.”
“What did you say?”
“You heard me, Rory. Got Deck’s number?”
“Where are you?”
“I’ve no idea. Hang on.” I put one hand over the phone’s mic. “Excuse me,” I said to someone walking past dressed in scrubs. “What is the name of this hospital?”
“Kinsale Community.”
“I heard,” said Hughes when I brought the phone back to my ear. “I’m on my way.”
“Wait. What about Decker?”
“He’s about to call you.”
I heard the chimes of the call ending at the same time another call came in.
“Siren, what’s happened?”
I told him about my running into the antique shop to look for the man I knew was still inside, Smoke coming in after me, and that he’d been burned when smoldering rafters fell on us both.
“How is he?”
“The doctors are with him now.”
“Call me back when you know more. In the meantime, I’ll see what kind of help I can get to you and how fast.”
“Hughes is on his way.”
“Like he’d be any help,” Deck muttered before ending the call.
“Dammit!” I said after he rang off, wishing I’d told him the phone he’d called me on wasn’t mine.
I walked in the direction of the entrance to the emergency room. “Sorry, I had another call come in. Um, they might try to ring me back,” I said to the woman who’d brought me the mobile.
“It’s fine. It’s my personal. Hang onto it as long as you need. I’m on shift another seven hours.”
“You’re sure?”
When she waved her hand and nodded, I went back to where the doctors were with Smoke.
“How is he?” I asked when they came out of the room.
“Not as bad as it looks. He suffered some second-degree burning but minimally. We’ll keep our eye on him for a couple of hours, and then he can go home.”
Home? Second-degree burns? I pushed open the door and sat down in the chair where I’d been earlier. “Hey,” I said when he opened his eyes.
“Hey.”
“Feeling no pain, are you?” I said when he smiled.
“I don’t know why you kept saying no to this stuff.”
When he turned his hand over, I rested my palm on his.
“Smoke, I—”
“You’re mad at me.”
“Mad? It’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“It always has been between us. Siren, I—”
I interrupted him like he had me. “There will be plenty of time to talk later. Now you should rest.”
He closed his eyes for a few moments and then opened them again. “I’m afraid that when I wake up, you’ll be gone.”
“I’m not going anywhere, and if I do, it’ll only be for a few minutes.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” When Smoke closed his eyes again, mine filled with tears. Given my memory was back, for the most part at least, I could say with some certainty that I’d never seen Smoke as vulnerable as he was just now.
I thought back to when it was me lying in a hospital bed and Smoke sitting by my side. Jaysus, I’d asked the man to hold me! I stifled a laugh at the memory of the look on his face. It made so much more sense now that I could recall what our relationship had been like before I was shot. And yet, Smoke had been kind to me. He’d taken care of me. He’d even brought me to his ranch in the States.
None of that changed the conversation I’d heard between him and Decker, but as I’d said to him, t
here’d be time for us to talk later. For now, I would care for him as he had for me.
I traced the lines of his palms with my index finger, remembering how good those hands felt on my body. I leaned down and placed a kiss where my finger had been. Yes, things between us were complicated. And like Mr. O’Brien had said, there was a fine line between love and hate. While I could remember exactly what hating Smoke felt like, I also knew how it felt to love him.
27
Smoke
“Mr. Torcher, time to wake up,” I heard a voice say.
“Go away,” I grumbled without opening my eyes. I was having the most amazing dream about Siren, and I did not want it to end.
“I need to go over your discharge instructions with you, Mr. Torcher.”
I felt a hand on my leg. “Come on, Smoke, when she’s finished, I can get you out of here.”
I opened one eye and saw Siren’s beautiful face. Was I still dreaming?
“He’s groggy from the pain medication,” the sterner-voiced woman said. I looked up at her and decided to close my eyes again. I could hear her reviewing my discharge instructions with Siren, and part of me was afraid to hope she’d be the one caring for me.
“There’s analgesic in the bandages. Do you have to go far?”
“About two hours.”
“It should last longer than that, and he isn’t due for pain meds for another four.”
I drifted off when the nurse talked more about the bandages and changing them.
“Mr. Torcher, time for you to go.”
I opened my eyes and glared at the woman.
“Oh, my. I’m glad you aren’t my ward.”
“That’s his nice face,” I heard Siren say to the woman.
Another man came in to help me off the gurney and over to a wheelchair. “I’d not recommend sitting back if you can help it,” he said in a soft voice.
I took his advice and when I sat, leaned forward.
“Where are we going?” I asked when Siren and the same man helped me to the back passenger door of the car.
Smoked Page 13
