Dylan had fled San Antonio fifteen years ago, after their friend Lucas was gunned down by a member of the Seven Sinners—one of San Antonio’s smaller gangs who had been trying to make a name for themselves. Aedan and Dylan were with Lucas when he was shot.
Rogan’s father used the circumstances of Lucas’s death to blackmail Rogan. He’d promised to keep Dylan and Aedan out of trouble with both the cops and the other gang if Rogan would agree to eventually take over leadership of the Cavans.
Rogan had taken the deal.
“Sometimes I still dream about the night Lucas was murdered,” Aedan admitted.
Rogan glanced over at him, his face difficult to read.
Aedan and Dylan’s freedom had cost Rogan his. Aedan still felt the guilt of that weighing deeply on him.
“Stop it.” Rogan’s face grew firm.
“Stop what?”
“Stop feeling so damn guilty. We were kids. Yeah, the three of you had no business trying to scare off some lowlife drug pushers but you didn’t know that Lucas would get shot. No one could have foreseen that he’d die.”
But Aedan had known. His gut had been screaming at him that going out that night was a terrible idea. But he’d gone with Lucas and Dylan, and he hadn’t said a word because he’d wanted to be a part of the group. He’d always felt like the odd one out. Younger, smaller, less physically adept.
His silence had cost Lucas his life, and in a way it had cost Rogan his too. And he’d never told anyone.
“It’s the past, and we should leave it at that. My grandfather formed this gang. It’s in my blood. I never had a chance to be free. What happened to Lucas just made things easier for my father.”
Aedan knew there was truth to his words, but it didn’t really ease his guilt. Lucas would still be alive if he’d just said something.
“It was great to see Dylan. But we have nothing in common now.” Rogan’s face grew pensive. “Dylan has a normal life. He’ll marry Tilly, have children, and live happily ever after. I don’t have a part to play in that.”
“You’re not the fucking Devil, Rogan.”
“I’m a criminal. I’ve done some terrible things.”
Aedan leaned forward. “Only when you had no other choice. You protected your men and their families. You brought them respectability. They’re making more money, and they’re safer than they ever were before. Because of you.”
Rogan smiled faintly. “Not everyone thinks that becoming more legit is a good idea.”
“Brandt was an idiot.” If Brandt were still alive, Aedan would happily kill him. Well, he’d hire someone else to do it. Aedan was a firm believer in playing to your strengths.
Murder wasn’t one of his.
Brandt had been Rogan’s trusted second for years. There was no way anyone could have seen his betrayal coming. But he’d been unhappy with the direction Rogan was taking the gang, and he’d plotted Rogan’s downfall, with the intention of taking over the gang.
“How is Miller?” Aedan asked.
Rogan stared into his drink. “She’s fragile. Brittle. Scared.”
“Her recovery is going to be a tough one.”
“I went to the rehab center last night to talk to her. She believes the Vipers had something to do with her mother’s murder. Apparently right before she was murdered, Miller’s mother was dating Iker.”
The former leader of the Vipers? That was the reason Miller had tried to join the gang?
Aedan winced. “So Miller thought she’d simply gain the gang’s trust and then snoop around for clues about her mother’s death?”
“Something like that.”
“Little fool. She’s damn lucky to be alive. If they’d found out that’s what she was up to, they’d have slit her throat and dumped her in the river.”
“Which is why they can’t ever know. Iker might be dead, but it doesn’t mean Miller is safe. I need to do some negotiation with Isaac.”
“He’s taking over the Vipers now that Iker is dead?”
Rogan nodded. “And he owes me. Unless they want me as an enemy, they need to pay reparations for defaulting on our agreement.”
Rogan had an agreement with the larger players in the city, the Vipers being one of them. They didn’t encroach on each other’s territory or try to steal business. Iker had betrayed that agreement by working with Brandt to overthrow Rogan.
Aedan lived on the fringes of this world. He wasn’t part of the gang, but he spent more time at Rogan’s house than he did his own. It sounded kind of pathetic, but he didn’t like to be alone. This was one of those times that he was grateful he didn’t have to walk a minefield like Rogan did every day.
“Yeah?” Rogan called out as there was a knock on the door.
Colm, one of his bodyguards, stepped into the room. “Boss, there’s a woman at the gate. Says she wants to see you.”
Rogan looked over at Aedan.
“It could be a coincidence,” Aedan argued.
“What does she look like?” Rogan asked.
“Attractive. Hispanic. Said her name was Natalya.”
It couldn’t be, Aedan told himself. Why would she be here?
“You want me to let her in or tell her to get lost?” Colm asked. He hadn’t been around three years ago, so he had no idea who Natalya was.
“Aedan?” Rogan asked. “It’s up to you.”
Aedan didn’t want to see her. He should just turn her away. She’d rejected him. He owed her nothing.
“It’s getting late, and her car is a piece of shit.”
Aedan could read the censure in Colm’s tone. Colm was protective when it came to women, and the Scot clearly didn’t agree with turning her away.
“Let her in,” Aedan told him.
Colm nodded and left.
“Have you heard from her since she broke things off?” Rogan asked.
He shook his head. “No.” But he’d been deleting all messages from unknown numbers for the past fortnight. Is it possible that she left him a message?
“What has it been? Three years?”
Three years and seven weeks, but who was counting? There was another knock on the door.
“Ready for this?” Rogan asked.
Aedan just nodded, unable to speak. He braced himself as the door opened.
Natalya was too nervous to smile at the large man who’d let her into the house. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She’d never gotten along with Rogan. In fact, she’d often wished that Aedan wasn’t friends with the gang leader.
She’d forced Aedan to choose between them, and she wasn’t proud of that. It had been selfish. Yes, Rogan did things she didn’t agree with. But it wasn’t like she was squeaky clean either.
The world wasn’t as black and white as she’d once thought.
She stepped into a masculine room, filled with dark wood furniture. The carpet was a light gray, the drapes a silver and black stripe. Gradually, she shifted her gaze to the two men sitting in brown leather armchairs across from her.
“Aedan,” she whispered.
Slimly built with blond hair and spellbinding, intense blue eyes; he was simply breathtaking. Impossibly, he seemed to have grown even sexier with age. He regarded her with an iciness she’d never experienced from him before and her stomach dropped.
Rogan cleared his throat. “Why don’t you sit down, Natalya.”
Aedan scowled. She quickly sat. She didn’t know how much longer her legs would hold her.
“Would you like something to eat or drink?” Rogan asked.
“Umm, a cup of coffee would be great. If it’s not too much of a problem.”
“No problem at all.” Rogan stood and left the room.
Mierda! She hadn’t thought that through. Now she was alone with Aedan. Something she’d both dreamed about, and feared, for years.
Natalya clutched her cold hands together nervously. “You’re looking well, Aedan.” She winced at the inane comment. Of all the things she could have said, should have said.
/>
I’m sorry. Forgive me. I was an idiot.
And she went with…you’re looking well.
“You’re not,” he countered bluntly, looking her over. “Is your sugar daddy not looking after you properly?”
“Sugar daddy?” she asked with a frown.
“Isn’t that why you left me? You got a better offer?”
“No.” She kept her voice calm, determined not to let him get to her. He had every reason to be mad. “That’s not what happened at all.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Really? What did happen? Did your better offer fall through? Did they find out that you were used goods?”
Natalya gasped, her control stretching. “How dare you!”
“Why are you acting so outraged? You went straight from my bed to his. What I don’t understand is how you could be with that murdering, thieving bastard, and yet you always treated Rogan like he was shit on your shoe. How many times did you refuse to be around him because you didn’t want to sully yourself by eating with a criminal, and yet you leave me to go fuck some of the worst scum in Mexico!”
Natalya gaped at him. Aedan never lost his temper. Ever.
“You know nothing about my life,” she whispered harshly. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
“Oh, it’s worse than that, sweetheart,” he told her harshly. “I don’t care.”
Natalya sat back as though she’d been slapped. This wasn’t the man she’d known. The same man who’d held her all night when she’d wept after her mother died, or sent her flowers just because he wanted to see her smile.
He was acerbic. Mean. Callous. Had she turned him into this? Natalya placed a hand on her stomach. This man wasn’t her Aedan. This man, she didn’t know. This man, she couldn’t count on helping her because he was a good person.
“This was a terrible idea,” she muttered to herself.
“Yes, it was,” Aedan replied. “So why don’t you head back to your lover and don’t ever return.”
She’d expected those words, anticipated them, dreaded them. But the punch of pain far outweighed anything she could have imagined.
“How did you know about Diego?” she asked hoarsely. She’d never told him. “Did you check up on me?”
“After you left that message telling me you weren’t coming back, I actually thought that you might be in trouble. That you might need me, and you were trying to protect me. Rogan sent someone to check up on you. Turns out you were great. How soon did you fall into bed with him, Natalya? As soon as you arrived? Or was it planned before you left?”
“Of course not!” She was stunned that he would even think that. “Aedan, you don’t understand. I—”
She bit down on her lip as the door opened, and Rogan came in carrying a large tray with a carafe of coffee, three cups and a plate piled high with rich, chocolate brownies.
“The last of Tilly’s baking.” Rogan placed the tray down on the coffee table. “I had to hide this lot just to make them last this long.”
Natalya watched as he poured out the coffee. “Tilly? Is that your wife?”
Rogan's eyes were cool but not unkind as he studied her. “No, a friend. I’m not married. Neither is Aedan.”
She knew Aedan wasn’t married. She read the tabloids. It was self-punishment, watching him with one stunning woman after another on his arm. But so far, none of them had seemed to last.
“What about you, Natalya? Are you married?” Rogan asked.
“Me? No, I’m not involved with anyone.”
“Dumped you, did he?” Aedan asked, as he rose and poured himself another whiskey. He leaned against the opposite wall, almost as though he was trying to get as far away as possible from her.
Natalya concentrated on trying to keep her hurt hidden. She’d known this would be difficult. She hadn’t expected him to welcome her with open arms. But knowing how warm and loving he’d been before, and facing his icy wrath now, was more of a shock than she’d anticipated.
“Actually, I left him. Aedan, you don’t know the full story—”
“I don’t want to know the full story. You left me so you could fuck a drug lord. What more is there left to say?”
“Aedan, if you’ll just listen to me. It isn’t what it seems—”
“Oh, so Rogan’s man had it wrong? You didn’t fall straight into bed with Diego Mota?”
“No…I mean yes… urgh, you are so frustrating sometimes!” Her temper flashed.
“Natalya, why don’t you tell us why you’re here.” Rogan gave Aedan a warning look. “And Aedan, don’t interrupt.”
“I almost don’t know where to start.” She ran a shaking hand over her face. She was shattered. Had she ever been this exhausted? Maybe when Mateo was a baby. But now she no longer had that glow of being a new mom, of feeling like she could do anything.
Now she was just desperate and scared. Very, very scared.
“Someone kidnapped my son. I need your help getting him back.”
Chapter Two
Aedan gazed down at Natalya in disbelief. Her son? What the hell?
He leaned heavily against the wall. Those eyes that had once gazed at him with fire and adoration were now filled with hopeless desperation. Her shoulders were slumped, her hands trembling, as she brought the cup of coffee to her mouth and sipped. She wasn’t dressed properly for the cool night, wearing only a ripped pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a cotton cardigan.
His first thought when she'd walked through the door had been that this wasn’t his Natalya. She wasn’t the bright, fiery, full of life woman that he’d known. This Natalya seemed run-down, like she was near the end of her rope. The curves he’d loved had been whittled away to nothing.
He was concerned and that made him angry. He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to want her. But despite her rundown appearance, she was still the most stunning woman he’d ever seen. Waves of dark hair, the color of deep midnight, cascaded over her shoulders. Her deep brown eyes, framed by sooty lashes. And that mouth. Lord, he loved her mouth. Sensuous, alluring, and too damn appealing.
Somehow, he needed to find the self-control to keep his hands off her.
“Who is the father?” he asked in a hoarse voice. Was it him? Is that why she was here? To tell him he was a dad?
Her shoulders slumped further. “Diego,” she whispered.
“He’s not mine?” He had to be sure.
“No.” Standing, she clasped her arms around her body. “I’m sorry I disturbed you both.”
She turned away, and he let her go, shocked by the depth of his disappointment. Her son wasn’t his. They hadn’t made a child together.
“Aedan. Aedan.” Rogan’s voice broke through his thoughts.
Aedan glanced over at him questioningly. “What?”
“Are you just going to let her leave?” Rogan asked.
Aedan scanned the room, shocked to see she’d gone. “She left? Shit!” He ran out before Rogan could reply, and stormed down the passage to find her in the foyer.
“Natalya?” he asked.
She kept her gaze lowered. “It’s all right. I get it.”
“Get what?”
“Mateo isn’t yours. You don’t owe me anything. But I had to ask.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, as she reached for the door.
“To get my son back.”
“Freeze!” he ordered, amazed when she actually obeyed him. “Come here.”
She shook her head.
Aedan took a few steps forward. “Natalya, if I have to come to you, I’ll fling you over my shoulder and carry you back into the room. Come here.” He’d never been firm with her. He’d always indulged her, placated and cherished her. But that time had passed. He’d changed. He refused to hide parts of himself.
He braced himself, ready to run after her if she took off. He half-expected her to grab the vase sitting on the side table and hurl it at his head. But she just turned and stared at him.
“Why?” she whispered.
<
br /> “We haven’t finished talking.”
“He’s not yours, Aedan.”
Damned if that didn’t sting. “I get that. But you came here to ask for my help. The least you owe me is an explanation.”
“Does that mean you’ll help me?” Her gaze turned hopeful.
Yes, of course. “Maybe.”
He didn’t understand the urge to help her, or why he should care. But he did know that she wasn’t walking out that door. Not until he was ready to let her go anyway.
She’d come here for his help, and it was going to be on his terms.
Aedan held out his hand. “Come here.”
Why did she feel like a fly about to become entangled in the spider’s web?
Aedan had a look in his eyes that said he wouldn’t back down or give in. The dominance in his voice both worried and intrigued her.
The lilt in his voice was mesmerizing, compelling.
Natalya stepped forward and took his hand. Pleasure zinged through her blood, surprising her. Aedan’s eyes widened, as though he’d felt it as well. He immediately dropped her hand, instead placing his hand on the small of her back so he could guide her down the passage to the room they’d just come from.
“You know, I never really thought you’d help me,” she whispered.
“Then why did you come looking for me?” he asked, puzzled.
“Because you’re my only hope. You and Rogan. And I couldn’t give up hope. I have to try everything. He’s my baby.” The last word was said in a sob, and she pursed her lips, determined not to break down. She needed to stay strong. Mateo needed her.
When she walked back into the sitting room, Rogan handed her a glass of whiskey.
“Here, thought you could use this.”
“Gracías,” she replied, nearly collapsing into the chair. “You’re being so nice to me, and I was always such a bitch to you.”
Rogan’s lips twitched. “Yeah, you were. But with good reason.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I know that not everything is black and white. I have no business judging anyone else for the choices they make.”
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