Brother's Keeper V: Wylie (the complete series BOX SET): NEW RELEASE + Series Box SET included!

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  “One, we’ve helped you solve countless cases using our resources. And two, we’d never let that happen. Worst case, you always have a job with us.” Dace wasn’t parting with that phone and would make a deal with the devil himself to keep it if he had to. C.T. was far from Satan, but he wasn’t an easy sell either.

  “And how many times have I stepped in and covered your asses, cleaning up the messes you leave around town?” C.T. argued back. “I seem to remember a scenario – not all that long ago – where the waterfront was shot up by fucking drones while chasing one of you assholes. And let’s not forget that time one of you launched a car from one side of the bridge to the other…while it was lifted for a cargo ship passing underneath. That was some shady made-for-TV shit. You’re welcome.”

  C.T. was referring to Liam’s encounter when his now wife’s past came back to haunt both of them and played out all over Portland. They needed a cover, and C.T. provided it – murder and mayhem ensued but never made it to the public’s ears. He protected them, as they did him.

  “Touché.” Wylie laughed. “He’s not wrong.”

  “What I’m hearing here is that we go back a long way and have each other’s backs. You can trust that we will not make the chain of custody an issue with a busted cell phone.”

  “I know you won’t, and fact is, you will probably get answers faster with no red tape and protocol on your end. Just don’t tell me which laws you have to break to get whatever’s on that thing.”

  “I don’t know why you make this shit hard every time, Charlie Tango.” Wylie rolled his eyes.

  “Because I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t put up a fight. My head says to quit giving in on this kind of shit, but my gut says we won’t get a break, much less justice otherwise. Fucking take it.” C.T. turned his back to the guys. “If I didn’t see it, it didn’t happen, and I’m not lying if I ever end up under oath because of you assholes.”

  The men laughed and fully understood their friend’s position. They also understood that there wouldn’t be answers, any real answers, if that phone left their possession. They didn’t know who they were dealing with, which made it all the more dangerous. It was highly likely they were dealing with the worst of the worst, or so it was beginning to appear as such, and those types go deep.

  Deep pockets, deep connections, deep cover, deep within every government and law enforcement agency a person could name. Everyone had a price, and nothing was off-limits. It was beginning to look like this wasn’t some off-the-wall, random hit. There were too many unanswered questions, too many possible coincidences that may or may not involve cartel.

  The harsh reality they were facing was that they didn’t know a damn thing yet, and that meant trust no one. C.T. understood that better than anyone, especially since the phone wasn’t recovered during the initial sweep of the crime scene. Was that just a sloppy oversight? Or was it a bad seed in his department who was working a side hustle on riffraff payroll? There was no way to really tell this early. One thing he could be sure of was that the O’Reillys couldn’t be bought. He could trust them.

  “Look. If there’s someone dirty on my team…”

  Dace interrupted C.T., knowing exactly where his head was going with this. “If someone’s dirty, they’ll be back later looking for that cell phone. I’m already a step ahead of you. Someone comes snooping around, and we’ll have a team on them before they make it to the dumpster.”

  C.T. nodded. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “We’ve spent years taking down the cartel, and they just breed like bunnies. One cell falls, three more come to life,” Declan added. “They don’t typically leave shit behind. They have guys for that. Cleaners.”

  The men all nodded in agreement until Dace added, “Unless they wanted us to find it, or me rather?”

  “Let’s not put all our eggs in one basket,” Declan continued as the rest of the team they brought started to head for their vehicles, evidence in hand, scene clean. “We don’t know what happened here. Let’s stop assuming and find some answers.”

  Dace slid the broken phone into a clear evidence bag and handed it to his brother, then reached for his own device as it buzzed, alerting him that he had a message. “Gotta go. Ivy’s out of surgery.”

  C.T. patted his back as he headed to his own vehicle. “C’mon. I’ll drive ya.”

  “Let’s see if we can get those answers you mention, brother,” Dace said as he jogged the short distance to the waiting unmarked vehicle C.T. was already climbing into.

  5

  Sitting at the foot of her bed, Dace stared at Ivy, willing her awake as he had for the past forty-eight hours. Her condition hadn’t changed other than the shades of purple and blue that covered her body as it tried to heal. She was in what might as well be called a medically induced coma after waking up from surgery in a complete and inconsolable panic.

  Ivy was so frightened, waking up in a strange place, in pain, and still under the effects of the anesthesia, that it was a full-blown rage. She’d hurt herself trying to run, taking another blow to the head upon falling, so it wasn’t safe for her to be awake.

  A fever set in shortly after, so the doctors were carefully monitoring her under heavy sedation to give her body a chance to heal. And Dace was willing her to heal. He sat vigil, sometimes in prayer even, hoping it was enough. She’d found her way back to him, and he wasn’t letting go again.

  Mendoza stayed on as a part of her team, but mostly as a liaison because Dace didn’t trust anyone and didn’t care who he pissed off. He guarded her with his life, and that required mediation from a trusted friend. C.T. checked in, more than once, eager to ask questions, but careful not to rile the protective nature Dace possessed and made known.

  “Boyo,” a soft, familiar voice in Irish brogue said behind him.

  He didn’t even have to turn around. “Hey, Ma.”

  “How’s our girl?” she asked, an emotional break in her voice. “She looks better, aye?”

  Dace reached for the gentle hand that landed on his shoulder. “I don’t know, Ma. All I see is—”

  His mother cut him off before he could finish. “Now, you stop with that. Tell me you see what I see? Really look, boy.”

  Colleen O’Reilly was sweet as sugar and tough as nails. Known to be nurturing and caring, she was known just as much for her no-bullshit, piss-and-vinegar attitude. She was a force in all things, the pillar of their large family, and the one you didn’t cross…she was the most feared O’Reilly. Ivy had been a very present part of their family until she wasn’t. Her disappearance was hard on all of them, including Colleen, who would as fiercely protect the girl – who she claimed as her own – as much or more than her sons would.

  Dace sat in silence, letting his mother’s presence and subliminal, albeit mild, ass chewing settle in. “You’re right, Ma. She is sleeping sounder. I think the swelling has lessened.”

  “There you go, my boy. See the good, not the bad. Those marks and scars can be deceiving. They’ll fade with time.” Colleen set her bag down on a nearby chair and moved to the side of Ivy’s bed. Reaching for her hand, she patted it once in her grip. “She’s always been a tough one, this girl.” She cocked a brow at her son. “Had to be to handle the likes of you.”

  It wasn’t lost on him what his mother was trying to instill in him. Scars fade. A reminder that learning the truth might sting, but the scars would ultimately begin to fade with forgiveness. Despite the pain the truth might harness, he’d work through it. There wasn’t a single thing Ivy could say that would have him any less invested in fixing whatever was broken between them. He wouldn’t have spent years of his life searching for her if he wasn’t.

  “I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a compliment or an insult.” For the first time in days, the corners of his mouth curved in a near smile. “She is tough. I know she’s going to be fine. I’m just ready for her to wake up, Ma.”

  “Because you’re happy to see her, or because you want to
avenge her?”

  There was a pause before he answered because, in all honesty, he didn’t know what the right answer was. It just wasn’t that simple where he was concerned. “I have so many questions, Ma.”

  “I can imagine. Make sure she’s ready for your questions, Son. Ask them for the right reasons. She found her way back to you. There’s purpose in that, but maybe not for the reasons you’re thinking. Don’t make her regret such a decision after so many years.”

  “I won’t. It’s just…” Dace wasn’t one for emotions or to share feelings — vulnerable wasn’t his thing — but he was beginning to feel overwhelmed after the past couple of days. “Where was she, Ma? What was she running from – was it me?”

  “Only she can answer that, but my gut never tells a lie, and I’d like to think it wasn’t ill intentioned.”

  “Maybe.” The sorrow and absolute pain Dace had carried for years was starting to show. The larger than life bad boy covered in tattoos and piercings with more bar brawls and covert ops under his belt than any O’Reilly was starting to crumple, but only for his ma.

  “Two things I know for certain, boyo.” Colleen’s sassy Irish brogue was back. “One, you’ll get through this okay. You always land on your feet. And two…you stink to high heaven. You need to go home and shower. I brought some food from the Pub and put it in your fridge at home.”

  “Ma…”

  “Don’t Ma me. Do as you’re told. I’ll stay here with our girl. She’s safe.”

  “They’ve been weaning her off the meds. She could wake up at any time, and I…”

  “Would you rather her see my lovely smile when she does? Or wonder who let the hogs wrestle in her room? Because you’re ripe for the pickin’, Dacey.”

  After a not so subtle armpit sniff, he agreed with his mother. Surely, she wasn’t the first to notice, and he was a bit embarrassed for that. Either the staff was insanely kind or afraid of him because none of them mentioned it. It didn’t matter, he needed a breath of fresh air and time to clean up nonetheless. Just the thought of his ma’s cooking sitting in his fridge at home made his stomach rumble. Vending machine and cafeteria food were doing him no favors.

  He stood, sliding into his well-worn tattered leather jacket before heading to the door and offering his mother a knowing nod.

  “And Dace?”

  With the door propped open by his steel-toed leather boot, he glanced over his shoulder.

  Colleen offered a warm smile. “Be sure to make a call before you come back here. You have loose ends to tie up. Cally deserves that. She needs to hear from you.”

  A deep sigh escaped Dace as he took in the twinkling cityscape out of the floor-to-ceiling wall of windows in his high-rise home. Each of the brothers occupied an entire floor as their residence at Watermark Tower where they also housed their business. He’d made his way home and showered, then attempted to eat what his mother left in his fridge for him. But he found himself deep in thought, gazing at the city he loved. And he was completely lost.

  Cally. What was he supposed to say to her? Hey, the love of my life has returned, and I’m no longer looking for a fuck buddy, but hey, it’s been real? The truth was, he didn’t know where he and Ivy stood, if there was anything left between them, soul mate or not. Was she still the love of his life? What did all of this mean, and where did that leave his relationship with Cally? What a clusterfuck.

  Cally was incredible. She deserved the absolute best, and he had been less than that their entire, albeit short relationship. He hadn’t treated her like any of the other women who had come and gone since Ivy left, but he also didn’t treat her much better. Most ladies were nothing more than a quick fix – a fast screw – to take his mind off his troubles and blow off some steam. He was a real son of a bitch when it came to women, but he was always up front with them and unapologetic for being who he was.

  Cally was more than that, but how much more? Did he have feelings for her? Sure. But they weren’t those kind of feelings. He didn’t dream of riding off into the sunset on his Harley with her or planning any kind of forever. She was more than a quick screw but less than white picket fences. She was a placeholder he was willing to give more of himself to than the typical hookup, but again, he was up front with her. He wasn’t looking for serious, commitments, or future anything. Just a good time…for now. For now was about to expire. Or was it?

  Ivy’s return came without any promises. He didn’t know where she’d been, why she left, or if she was even single. Even if she was single, that didn’t mean the spark they once shared was still burning…for him, anyway. All the more reason to postpone the inevitable phone call to Cally. He wasn’t keeping her around for the just in case factor, but he also refused to toss her aside for his past reincarnated.

  Too many things had happened – life-changing events – in the past forty-eight plus hours, and he wasn’t ready to make decisions about anything. He was too fucked up to decide his next meal, much less his love life. His future. He’d spent so long looking for Ivy – the Ivy he knew then – that he hadn’t thought about what it would be like once he found her. What if she wasn’t his Ivy? Given how they finally found her, he was starting to realize that the girl he loved and had planned a life with was gone, and he’d never get her back.

  There were too many questions, and many decisions would follow once answers were rendered, so for now…he’d wait to call Cally.

  “Bro.” A familiar booming voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You still here?”

  Dace turned to find his brothers making their way into his living room. “I need to change the locks. You fuckers ever knock?”

  “One, you can’t change the locks; it’s irrelevant since we open them by code access, not key.” Liam started spewing his tech bullshit. “Two, we did knock. Twice.”

  “Touché.” Dace snorted. “What do you want? I have shit to do.”

  Declan, the eldest O’Reilly, looked around, eyes pinned on a half-eaten plate of food that no longer looked appetizing. “Looks like it. How long have you been standing at that window?”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Cut the shit.” Declan didn’t let him finish. He knew his broody, badass brother all too well. He had a hardened exterior but was a man with feelings that ran deeper than most. Ivy coming back, especially in the state she was in, had to be tearing him up inside. “You forget who you’re talking to, man.”

  Dace didn’t like to submit to his tenderhearted vulnerabilities, so instead of pouring his heart out, he flipped his brother the bird as his way of saying, I’m okay.

  “Been trying to call ya, man,” Luke said. “Got a few updates.”

  Dace nodded. “And?”

  “And we don’t know much more than we did before.”

  “And that’s an update?” Dace shook his head, confused by his brother’s admission. “You came all the way here – together – just to tell me we still don’t have shit?”

  “Ma sent us.” Liam cut to the chase. “Said you left a little rough and hadn’t been back.”

  “Ma.” Moving to the table, Dace grabbed the food he’d left to spoil and dumped it in the nearby trash, grinning at the thought of his mother wrangling up her boys and sending them after another. It’s what she did. “I should’ve known. Really, I’m good. Just have a lot on my mind and can’t wrap my head around some of this shit, ya know? This is the first time in a few days I’ve actually had a minute to really think.”

  “Understandable,” Declan said. “You know you don’t have to figure it all out tonight…or by yourself, right?”

  Dace extended his arm and fanned it across the room where his brothers were clustered. “Couldn’t if I wanted to. I have you ladies.”

  His insult earned him a returned middle finger that flashed like a well-practiced synchronized routine.

  “Nothing new doesn’t mean we don’t have a direction to search.” Liam rolled his eyes at the bullshit and took a seat on the nearby couch, gesturing for the others to
join him. “Not everything is about what we can dig up on city cameras or hack into remotely. Not everything begins and ends with what technology offers us.”

  “Is this you bending and giving in, man?” Dace didn’t dance this topic delicately; he was straight in posture and defensive with his tone. “I mean, you’re the guy with all the gadgets. Genius, right? You saying we’re done here? Out of options?”

  “Jesus.” Liam took offense because he never gave up – the bigger the challenge, the better. “On the contrary. If there’s something to find, I’ll find it. But while we wait, let’s get a little old-school and dig up leads.”

  Wylie took over. “We aren’t far off with the cartel lead. Eva was able to confirm activity, just not anything solid. We don’t know exactly who, why, or what. Just that they’re here, or going to be here. Those guys on the cameras, at the coast…definitely cartel mutts.”

  “Rogue cell like we thought? Working independently?” Dace asked, glad they were finally getting somewhere.

  “It’s starting to look that way.” Wylie nodded. “That’s why it hasn’t been an easy ID. They may be the front for something else, hired muscle. Or…a sole operation trying to pull together a territory while there’s so much heat on the bigger cartel families we’ve been dismantling.”

  “Strike when they’re weak. Opportunists…sounds about right.”

  “Exactly.” Wylie agreed with Dace. Despite minimal intel, this made the most sense. “They are too new to peg. Possible motive and gains are all over the board with this one.”

  “We know there are weapons,” Dace added. “Are they just runners or weaponizing themselves?”

  “Or both?” Declan asked.

  “No way of knowing yet.” Liam interrupted. “Which brings me to my point. I can’t see all the facts yet. I’m building software, using algorithms…the usual. I’m piecing the puzzle together, but I don’t see a big picture yet. We need boots on the ground. Word travels fast on the street.”