This Life II

by Dee, Cara

  “You have one minute,” Finnegan told us. “I’m not letting him be alone with her longer than that. Any word from Kellan?”

  Look over here while I do something over there. I made a show of guzzling my champagne when I was really focused on wheeling the toy car along the inside of the fender. A rush of relief pumped through me when the rubber tires stuck to the metal, and I quickly picked up my clutch and swayed drunkenly off the platform.

  “Careful there, ragazza.” Gio caught me, and I pushed past the shudder of revulsion. “Do you have an interest in cars?”

  I shrugged and inched away from him. “I like driving fast.” I felt weirdly itchy standing so close to Gio without Liam nearby. Not uncomfortable per se, just…I wasn’t sure. I was antsy and restless.

  “You get that from your mother,” Gio replied with a smile. “She likes to drive fast too.”

  In a split-second decision, fueled by old patterns and beliefs, I went with a lie. “My mom’s dead.”

  “Holy shit,” Finnegan whispered. “Holy shit, you’re a fucking genius, Emilia.”

  Gio tilted his head and eyed me curiously. “I apologize. I assumed you’d been told the truth since marrying into the O’Shea family. I assure you, Elena is very much alive.”

  “Liam, get back, get back, get back,” Finnegan said urgently.

  I swallowed hard, stalling. Feigning shock. Disbelief. Confusion. I’d had some practice with news like this.

  “No,” I answered slowly. “She died giving birth to me.”

  Gio exhaled a sigh and shook his head in sympathy. “The lies you’ve been told—by both our families. As I mentioned before, I wish it were easy. I wish I could explain in a minute…” He refocused and slipped a hand into his chest pocket. “I understand trust wouldn’t come easy for you, but should you ever want to talk, please don’t hesitate. You’re family. You’re my niece. You have a home with us.” He extended a business card. “Don’t worry. I understand that Finnegan will attempt to use this somehow, but—” He smirked slightly. “Let’s just say we recently discovered something interesting about the Sons.”

  Um, okay, like what? Please feel free to tell me.

  Not that he would. Trust was a two-way street, and he was cautious. He had every reason to be.

  “I’m sick of being in hiding,” I muttered, tucking the card into my purse. “It’s no life to live.”

  “I’m very sorry about that,” he replied. “You should know that you’re sacred, though. I’d kill anyone who harmed a single hair on your head.”

  I had no reply, and in my periphery, I spied Liam approaching. Instead, I drew a shaky breath and made sure I looked vulnerable and uncertain.

  Gio was a snake and didn’t hesitate to play me. He stepped closer and smirked. “Ten bucks says Liam is about to tell you you’re leaving.”

  “If only,” Finnegan gritted. “Youse need to get the fuck out soon, though. As soon as Liam’s attached the car.”

  But I had already done that! My mind spun. I couldn’t relay the info with Gio standing right here, and Liam would reach us in less than ten seconds. Shit, shit, shit. Desperation slammed into me, and I understood why Finnegan wanted to let Gio be correct in his assumption. Anything to give him a boost, to make him arrogant. That was when mistakes were made.

  I spotted a server and saw my opening. I didn’t hesitate. I huffed and scurried toward him, and the second I felt it was safe enough, I spoke under my breath. “I attached the car earlier.” The words left me in a jumble, so I said it again. “I repeat, car’s been attached.”

  There was a flurry of background activity all of a sudden. I heard the tapping of computer keys, Finnegan spoke in a rush to someone—maybe Conn or Colm—and Eric told Liam to announce that we were leaving.

  Adrenaline coursed through me as I set down the half-empty champagne glass and took what I hoped would be my last. Not that I had any intention of drinking more.

  “Conn will pick up Emilia in three minutes,” Eric said. “Get her out of there, Liam. You and Colm will most likely have a tail to shake.”

  “No problem.” Liam reached me and wrapped his fingers around my arm. He yanked me close and appeared furious. “I’ve had it with your bratty fucking behavior. We’re out of here.”

  I snuck a glance at Gio, who merely tapped his nose and smiled faintly.

  At that moment, everything became too much to analyze and process. I couldn’t do it any longer. We’d learned a lot tonight, half of which I hadn’t even been informed of yet. Something about Kellan and the others in London. And…Christ, we’d been putting on an act, something Gio knew, except he believed he knew the hows and whys when he only knew there had been role-playing…? Did I get that right?

  Oh God, whatever.

  Liam and Gio exchanged another few fake pleasantries, and then we were marching toward the exit.

  “Remember what I said, tesorina,” Gio called. “You have a home with us.”

  “That’s Giovanni Avellino in a nutshell for ye,” Liam muttered. “He’ll call you family to your face while he sics his guards on you behind your back.”

  “You don’t have to convince me.” I picked up the pace and got rid of the champagne glass on the way out. “I wouldn’t trust that snake.”

  If family was so precious, he had a shitty way of showing it. John and Gio, brothers and archenemies. It was on Gio’s orders that Grace had been killed. And I was as much his niece as Liam and Finnegan and Patrick were his nephews.

  Once Liam had gotten our coats, I was warned it would be a cold ride home. Because Conn was taking me straight to the apartment, and he was the one on the motorcycle. And I was the one in a dress…

  We didn’t have much of a choice. As soon as Conn rolled up outside, he gave me his helmet, and I straddled the seat behind him and did my best to tug down the dress past my knees.

  It didn’t work.

  Riding a motorcycle in the December cold without pants. What could go wrong? But I saw the reason behind the quick getaway. Liam took off on foot to meet up with Colm somewhere, and he had two men following. Two men who definitely didn’t work at the event.

  22

  Emilia O’Shea

  “Thank fucking God.” Finnegan wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug, and I all but fell apart. I was so cold that I couldn’t stop shaking, and I was coming off the adrenaline high at the same time.

  I was ready to explode.

  My chest felt tight; my brain was a mess.

  “You’re freezing, baby. Come here.” He ushered me toward the bathroom and snatched up his bag on the way. “Conn, Eric, we’ll talk in the living room when Liam and Colm get back.”

  “S-Somet-t-thing’s wrong w-w-with me.” I spoke through chattering teeth.

  Finnegan’s worried gaze instantly dropped to my stomach, and I managed to shake my head and stutter out a “N-no.”

  “The adrenaline,” I spluttered as he removed my coat. Jesus, no, too cold!

  “I get it. It’ll pass. I promise.” He leaned over the tub and turned on the water to the hottest setting. “Come here. We gotta get your temperature up.”

  I couldn’t feel my damn legs, but they carried me over to the tub.

  “You did fucking good today.” He helped me unzip my dress, and he shook his head. “I’m proud of you. I can’t even find the words.”

  “Th-thanks.”

  He mustered a small smile and made quick work of the rest of my clothes, as well as my jewelry. “I was so worried. Jesus Christ.”

  The water heated up the air, so I lowered the temperature a little. It was already going to feel scorching hot on my icicles for legs.

  Holy shit.

  My breathing picked up.

  Finnegan was choosing the wrong moment to be a gentleman. He stood back once I got in the shower, and he cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

  The surge within gained speed. One shiver set off another, and the evening was starting to crash down on me. I’d talked to Gio
, I’d attached the device to the car, I’d played a ruse on the security guard at the entrance, I’d fucking talked to Gio Avellino, I’d acted my ass off.

  Oh God.

  I swallowed dryly and felt the hot water cascade over my body.

  How could I ever go back to normal? What was even normal today? Being merely the wife of an international criminal, or being the failed high school student in a dead town?

  I whimpered and screwed my eyes shut.

  Finnegan cursed under his breath, which caused my heart to slam against my rib cage and begin racing.

  “Do you want me to leave?” His voice rolled into the shower like low thunder, with a charge in the air that sent lust tumbling through me.

  I shook my head quickly and rubbed my thighs together. “I need you, Whistler.”

  He didn’t respond verbally, but I heard him shedding his clothes. The sound triggered my knees to cave, and I had to lock them into place. I opened my eyes and sucked in a breath. He was coming for me, thank fuck. With the most possessive of looks in his eyes, he joined me in the shower. Maybe he was crashing too. Maybe he was coming down.

  No words were exchanged. He was drenched in a second, and then he pressed me to his body and captured my mouth in a brutal kiss.

  The sensations were like tiny explosions. I lost control, if I ever had it. Locking my arms around his neck, I clung to him and kissed him with all the strength and passion I possessed. The desperation shone through, I was sure of it.

  The frenzy unfolded between greedy hands and hungry kisses. I tugged on his hair, making him grunt, and kissed my way down his neck. He cursed and pushed me up against the wall. His rough hands slid up and down my body, kneading my ass, cupping my tits.

  The stark contrast when he gently slipped his middle finger along my pussy drew violent shivers from me, and I begged. I begged to be taken, begged to be fucked, begged to be owned.

  He sucked on my neck and hiked my legs around his hips.

  Then he slammed into me.

  “Fuck!” I gasped. Eyes wide, mouth popped open.

  Pinning me against the wall, he pushed his cock in and out of me, hard and deep, unrelenting, and I met his every thrust, waiting for the pain to subside. Rather, not caring. It burned and stung but only fueled my urgency.

  I moaned loudly and threw my head back.

  Nails digging into his shoulder blades.

  “Jesus fuck,” he growled. “Kiss me.”

  I leaned forward again, and I kissed him with all I had.

  The buildup was insane and consuming me.

  “Don’t ever change, princess,” he groaned into the kiss. “Don’t ever fucking change. What I saw tonight was—Christ.” He took a labored breath and pushed in hard.

  I whimpered, clenching around his perfect cock. “I love you.”

  He grabbed my jaw and stilled inside me. Forehead to forehead, water pouring down, tension so thick I could cut it with a knife, lips nearly touching. “You’re everything,” he murmured huskily. Sliding one hand from my face, he slipped it between us instead and rubbed my clit. “There is no me without you anymore.”

  I exhaled shakily and swallowed a moan, and I closed the distance between us. I let his love for me settle like a warm blanket. I kissed him deeply, teasing his tongue with my own. “Same for me.” I clung to him like a second skin and swiveled my hips over his cock.

  Finnegan hissed and started fucking me again. Long, deep strokes.

  I… Oh God… Fuck. Harder. Faster.

  The fire blazed through us, and we chased the same thing. I needed it. I had to feel it. I had to fall off that cliff at the same time as he did. I wanted to feel him fill me up.

  He stroked my clit persistently and whispered filth to me. You’re almost there, princess. Let me feel you. Squeeze my cock. Drench it. You’re so fucking wet.

  I cried out as I lost it all.

  The pleasure erupted and shot me to the skies, only to drag me under a beat later and drown me in sheer bliss.

  A while later, I found myself on one of the couches in the living room. My legs were draped over Finnegan’s lap, and he’d fanned out two thick blankets over me. I was also wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of sweats approximately twenty sizes too large.

  It was perfect.

  There was hot tea, ginger ale, crackers, and leftover food too. Finnegan had prepared it all and managed to fill the small coffee table while I’d soaked up some more heat from the shower.

  We were only waiting for Liam and Colm, though we knew they were okay. They’d lost the guys following them after about twenty minutes.

  “Since everyone seems to know what the London thing was about, mind filling me in?” I asked.

  Eric was seated on one of the other three couches, and since he was busy eating his body weight in chips, Finnegan answered.

  “Gio hinted at two things when you walked away from them,” he said. “Did you hear any of it?”

  I shook my head. “I heard Liam a bit, but I had to shut it out so I could concentrate on everything else.”

  It’d been a long day, and I’d had one too many voices in my head tonight.

  Conn joined us, having used the shower too. He slumped down on the last couch and grabbed a beer.

  “All right, firstly, Gio indicated John might be alive,” Finnegan said. My brows went up. Admittedly, I’d thought it was strange they hadn’t put more of an effort into finding John, but everyone treated it as an afterthought. Because, as the guys claimed, it was very unlikely that John lived. Finnegan continued. “Gio told Liam that if he’d had known youse were gonna be there tonight, he woulda told John.”

  “That’s a strong indication,” I noted.

  “It could also be horseshit,” he replied. “It doesn’t really change our plans anyway. Killing Gio is the absolute last thing we’ll do, and it’s not until then we can dig for intel about John.”

  I understood that part. Gio’s other operations left trails of clues—be it associates, listed addresses, or shipments. Where he may or may not be holding John was anyone’s wild guess. He could be in Italy, Germany…hell, he could still be in the US, which was both Finnegan and Liam’s guess in the event he hadn’t been killed yet.

  “Man, I hope he’s alive, though,” Finnegan sighed. Then he pointed two fingers into the air and pretended his hand was a gun that went off. “What I wouldn’t give to kill that son of a whore.”

  I flinched, the image of his finger guns flashing over and over before my eyes.

  It made me uneasy, and I wasn’t sure why.

  “Secondly?” I hedged. I wanted to move on.

  Finnegan adjusted in his seat. “We ordered Kellan to get everyone out of London—they’re safe, for the record—because Gio asked Liam why I wasn’t enjoying the holidays in London with the others.”

  “Oh my God.” I widened my eyes. “He knows…?”

  “Yes, but no,” Eric cut in. “How he phrased himself—yes, he knows about London, but it’s gotta be recent. He hasn’t known for long. Additionally, it’s confirmation that he believes Alessandro about Finn being in Philly.”

  His words jogged a memory, and I knitted my brows together. Something about recent…

  “Let’s just say we recently discovered something interesting about the Sons.”

  That was it! “He said that to me, too,” I blurted out. “I think he cut himself off from saying too much. Gio was saying he understood Finn would try to use any information he gave me, and then he sort of switched direction. He said, ‘Let’s just say we recently discovered something interesting about the Sons.’”

  “I think I heard that.” Eric narrowed his eyes in thought. “It’s been a lot to take in tonight.” He faced Finnegan. “You reckon he thinks the game’s gonna change soon?”

  Finnegan lifted a shoulder. “It would make sense, but it’s impossible to be sure.” He paused. “What we do know is that we gotta be extra careful from now on. I don’t have a single fucking clue how he could
a found us in the UK. None of us is using real identities, our addresses are listed under names that can’t be linked to the O’Sheas—or the Murrays, for that matter.”

  That sort of made me suspicious. “Can…can we trust everyone?” I asked hesitantly.

  Finnegan flashed me a rueful little grin. “Don’t say you’re as paranoid as me, baby. But fuck if I know at this point. I wanna say yes. If anyone had asked me yesterday, I would have said yes. Everyone’s pitched in, everyone’s risked a shitload, and those I haven’t been able to vouch for, Liam has.”

  “We should play it safe and make our inner circle smaller for a bit,” Conn murmured. “Do we need all of us in Barcelona?”

  Finnegan gave that a thought. He sucked his teeth and raised a brow at Eric, wanting his opinion.

  “I mean… No is the short answer,” Eric said. “After tonight, I think it’s clear we should head to Barcelona right away.” Finnegan agreed with him. “Then—I don’t know. I don’t know how long we’re looking at in terms of recon work. Gio’s property in the harbor is surrounded by other lots, and we’ll need a few weeks at least to map out schedules and patterns.”

  Finnegan hummed. “Maybe it’s time to send some of the men home. There will be plenty of work for them after the Amsterdam gig.”

  Even I understood that. I still hadn’t processed how well things had gone. Patrick and his guys had fled the city in under three hours and were now hiding out somewhere outside of Amsterdam with gold, money, and drugs. And the drugs… I was pretty sure Finnegan was withholding some details about the amount. He’d seemed extremely pleased about the whole thing. Like, he’d fist-pumped the air in the car when he found out how much.

  It was crazy. So was the reminder that, had this happened a few months ago, I would’ve been so mad at myself for calling it a victory.

  I was thinking about gold bars and bricks of cocaine like I’d grown up in this insane world.

  How quickly life could change.

  “It’s time to take back Philadelphia,” Finnegan said. “We’re on our knees as it is. The Vietnamese are coming at us from one corner, the gangs outta the Badlands are flooding downtown, and we’ve even had New Yorkers coming down to pull shit on our streets.”