by D. L. Raver
I looked at him, my eyes narrowing as I let out a long breath.
“Oh, come on. You honestly don’t believe that the loss of that stone is what changed the direction of the IRA? That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. It’s a fucking uncut emerald. That’s all. Nothing more. It has no magical powers.”
“Is it, now?” Paddy arched a gray brow at me. “I saw the look on your face when you held it. You felt its power.”
I looked away from him, not wanting him to see the acknowledgment in my face. I’m sure whatever I’d felt when holding the Emerald had a logical, real-life explanation.
“Don’t you find it at all interesting as soon as it was gone from the hands of the IRA leaders the movement ceased its illegal activities and the Ceilte too lost interest?” Paddy challenged.
“No, I don’t. The cause had run its course. Nothing more. Nothing less. Time marched on and political climates changed. Different people with different ideals and motivations came into power,” I said with absolute confidence before rolling my eyes.
“The IRA’s final ceasefire didn’t come about because that stone went missing,” I continued to argue. “It came about because somebody who didn’t have their head up their ass made them see reason. Or, more likely, as you say, the Ceilte had been supporting them, and when they withdrew their support the movement fell apart.”
“It is easy for you to dismiss what you do not believe or understand. But I will tell you with absolute certainty the Emerald has been in the hands of those who have forged Ireland’s history. Whether you believe Cliodhna’s Emerald is real or not, many have. And many have died in the pursuit of freedom they believe it offers.”
“Yet, I’ve never heard of until now.” I rubbed at the back of my neck. “All of this is a moot point because last time I checked, Ireland was still part of the United Kingdom. And besides, its people don’t worship pagan gods anymore. I find it hard to believe something supposedly created by a god could influence men of a predominantly Christian county. But whatever, I’m not going to argue beliefs with you. Bottom line it for me Paddy. What is it I’m supposed to do with it?”
“One day, Kevin—”
“Sloan not Kevin!”
“All right. When the time is right Sloan, you’ll know what to do with it. You will use it to bargain for what you most want; for that which means everything to you.” He crossed his arms over his still-muscular chest. There was such confidence in his voice I almost believed the yarn he weaved, but the more I thought about it, the more it pissed me off, and the more managed I felt.
“What the fuck does that mean? So what, my life? Because that’s the only thing that means anything to me.”
“Just like I knew what to do with it that night, one day, when the time is right, you will know what to do. It is your family legacy.”
“My family? Don’t you mean your family? I don’t have a family.”
“They are one in the same, son,” he said with a flinch in his voice. If his feelings were hurt that was just too damn bad.
“Ha!” I laughed bitterly as I recalled all the times I’d felt completely alone in the world after Da died, and all the times I had needed guidance from someone who knew better, someone older and wiser.
“I know you feel abandoned Kev—I mean Sloan.”
“Feel? No Paddy, I was abandoned.” I finished my own whiskey and left the couch to pace the room. “I have a vague memory of you pulling me out of the explosion and taking me to a house, then it all went black for over five years. I was eleven years old, suffering post-traumatic stress amnesia. I couldn’t even remember my fucking name. Thankfully, the Sullivans were sweet and kind.”
The memories of those years bombarded me and even today, my stomach clenched with the uncertainty that had haunted me.
“I handpicked the Sullivans for you Sloan. I did it for your own good. Kevin O’Shea needed to stay dead so Sloan Sullivan could live.” His eyes clouded with what I guessed might be regret as he sat in the leather chair adjacent to the couch I’d just left.
“Do you know how scared I was when, five years later, all the memories came back? I was terrified that someone would figure out I lived and would hurt the Sullivans. They were kind people who took care of me, gave me everything, and gave me my name. Leaving in the middle of the night without saying good bye or thanking them for all they’d done for me, it killed me. They didn’t deserved that, and now they’re dead too, never knowing how grateful I am. But your family is fine. You have Emmeline, Christopher, and Irelyn,” I yelled, unable to stop myself.
“They are your family too, Sloan.” Paddy stood and tried to put his hand on my shoulder, but I stepped back from him. It was too fucking late to comfort me now.
“They’re not my family. They don’t even know who I am. To them, I’m nothing but their chauffeur and security person. What’s more, if what you say is true, if Liam Cleary comes here, or worse yet, Kieran decides to start asking questions, then I can never tell them the truth.”
Paddy bowed his head and stared at his feet, tucking his hands in the pockets of his pants. “I’m sorry, Kevin. Truly I am.”
“What if I refuse? What if I just leave Scottsdale and disappear?”
“You won’t.” Paddy lifted his gaze to me. For the first time in twenty years, I saw the face of my father. My heart clenched, forcing a sorrowful sigh from my lips.
The old man was right. Being in the Ceilte was a lifetime commitment—Kieran and Darius always knew my location because I remained active, continuing to do missions. Besides, I’d been here for too long and had come to know my cousins as I worked for Jacob Wilkes and his family. At first, I’d kept my distance from them. But in the past year, I’d come to enjoy many conversations with Emmeline and her children. Chris and I had shared a few beers and some laughs on occasion. I thought of him and Irelyn as more than just friends.
I thought of them as family.
Then it dawned on me why Paddy had kept his distance from me all this time. He had watched as I forged a relationship with my employer’s family. Kept his mouth shut so when this day came he knew I wouldn’t say no.
I wanted to rail at him for positioning me right where he wanted me. But it wasn’t his fault I’d taken part in the Wilkes’ lives. I didn’t have to help Chris and his friend, Cory Campbell, pick out the mustang he just bought a few months ago. And I didn’t have to try to soothe a crying Irelyn after her wanker prom date treated her like shit at the dance. I could have stayed aloof and detached from them both. But instead, I advised Chris on the Mustang, and I held Irelyn’s hand as she cried about her prom date not being someone named Zolt Hamil. It didn’t help matters that lately I’d seen some questionable behavior coming from Jacob Wilkes. I kept telling myself to stay out of it, and that Jacob’s extramarital activities were none of my business, even if I couldn’t understand why any man would cheat on the beautiful Emmeline.
But more than any of this was Kenna Campbell, the younger sister of Chris’ friend Cory. Just thinking her name made my heart speed up.
She was my reason to stay.
She was my reason to leave.
I shook myself loose from my musings of Kenna, and everyone else, and asked the one question that had bugged me for three years.
“Answer one question for me. Besides looking like my father and mother, how did you know for sure I was your nephew?”
“Well,” he said, rubbing his chin. “The Emerald guided me. If you open yourself up to it, the Emerald will not fail you.”
“Right.” I rolled my eyes once more. Of course, he wouldn’t give me a straight answer. “And? There had to be something else about me that confirmed your suspicions?”
“Aye,” Paddy confirmed. “The X shaped scar on your left forearm. The night of the explosion, you sustained a nasty gash on your arm. We didn’t want to take you to hospital so we sewed it up ourselves. You were unconscious thankfully and didn’t feel it. We did our best, but the scar remains.”
&
nbsp; I touched said scar on my arm, remembering how much it hurt as it healed.
X really does mark the spot, I thought sourly.
“But more than that Sloan, you are an O’Shea. You are family. You are blood. One day, the ones you love will be threatened and it will be up to you to protect them.”
I threw up my hands and acquiesced to the old man’s wishes. Then, I walked to the table, picked up the leather pouch, and shoved it in my pocket.
“I knew you’d make the right choice,” Paddy said without an ounce of joy. What I heard was a tired old man who’d been relieved of a terrible, unwanted duty. A duty that apparently I’d just agreed to take over.
Stupid me!
I looked around my uncle’s study, absorbing its history—a history that belonged to me too, but one I could never embrace.
With a shaking hand, I touched a black and white photo of Paddy and Sean that sat on the bookshelf near the door. The two brothers had been close once, but differing beliefs about things, that may or may not have had any merit, had come between them.
Suddenly, the stone’s weight felt incredibly heavy, and I worried I didn’t have the strength to be the protector of something I just didn’t believe in.
With a sigh, I walked out of Paddy O’Shea’s home without looking back, knowing we’d never talk again.
I had just decided to trust in the man who had saved my life, clinging to the one thing I knew for sure; my uncle wouldn’t lie to me.
If he said that one day I’d know what to do with Cliodhna’s Emerald—whether I believed in it or not—then, I would wait for that day to arrive, praying I’d be man enough to succeed. I also prayed Paddy’s perceptions about Kieran McCarthy were false, because the alternative was just too fucking surreal.
If Kieran and Darius were indeed ageless, then logic followed that the rock in my pocket might well be what Paddy claimed. That would mean my life had just taken a turn into the incredible, and I didn’t do the incredible.
Part One
“The past is a good place to visit, but certainly
not a good place to stay.”
-Unknown
Chapter One
Sloan
Present Day - Two years later
EVERY HUE OF red obscured my vision as I walked out of the Maricopa County Jail. Anger overwhelmed me to the point I almost didn’t see the large black man leaning against his suburban with his arms crossed over his massive chest.
“Sloan. Over here,” I heard a gruff, deep voice call.
I shielded my eyes from the sun with my hand and walked in the direction I’d heard my name. The bright light dazed my eyes, making them water. I longed for my pair of Ray Bans the asshole of a cop kept when he arrested me.
“Are you all right?” T-bone Stanley asked as we climbed into his Suburban. Neither of us were small men, and even in this huge vehicle, little room remained once the former NFL offensive lineman turned PI and security guru settled himself inside.
“Yeah fine,” I mumbled. “Just fucking pissed. Let me guess, Marcus didn’t have me arrested because he was bored and needed entertaining?”
It still galled me to think about Marcus Xavier running a BDSM sex club out of Paddy’s ranch. No doubt the old man was rolling over in his grave.
“Irelyn’s missing. Apparently, she called Zolt and told him she was going to marry Marcus.”
“Bloody fucking hell!” I slammed my fist on the dashboard. “And Zolt went further off the deep end?”
“You got it. I’ve located him at the apartment where he used to take his conquests to fuck. I’m on my way to pick up Brody after I drop you off. I can only imagine what condition we’ll find him in.”
I sucked in a breath and momentarily squeezed my eyes closed. The already-large knot of dread in my stomach grew with the new information.
“I feel for the bastard.” T-bone smoothed his hands over his bald head before he started the vehicle.
“Irelyn is not going to marry Marcus Xavier. She hates him. Even Hamil’s dickish behavior is not enough to send her back to that man. She’s in love with Zolt; has been for a very long time. I know he didn’t mean it when he blamed Irelyn for his injury and his life after football, and I have to believe she knows that too. If Irelyn told him she’s marrying Marcus it’s because he’s holding something major over her head. This is bad. I can feel it in my bones, and it’s the reason Marcus pulled strings to have me arrested on a trumped up immigration violation. He needed me out of the way. Just fuck me!”
Yet again, I’d failed my family; first Chris, now Irelyn. I could still see Irelyn’s reaction when we found her brother’s murdered body in front of Paddy’s ranch. I shook my head, trying to knock out the images of Chris’ bashed-in face from my mind.
T-bone gave me a sideways glance. His voice pulled me from my morbid thoughts. “Calm down. We’ll figure this out. After we deal with Zolt, we’ll meet at his house to discuss what comes next.”
I sucked in a breath, trying to abate the physical ache wracking my body. I couldn’t stand that Marcus had gotten away with this bullshit. But more than that, I feared this wasn’t the worst of it. There was more to this than we knew.
T-bone dropped me at my loft in downtown Scottsdale so I could take a shower and change clothes. Once inside, I immediately went to the fireplace and removed the lose brick, revealing the hiding place of Cliodhna’s Emerald.
I reached in its hidey hole and pulled out the deep green stone. Though I’d begrudgingly accepted it years ago from my now dead uncle, Paddy O’Shea, it had become a part of my everyday life. I still didn’t believe in its supposed power of influence despite the small trickle of energy I received every time I picked it up, and other unexplainable event throughout the years. However, people existed in the world who wanted it, and may or may not be willing to do me bodily harm to get it, made me have a special reverence for it, like it or not.
After confirming its safety, I put the Emerald back, and replaced the brick. Paddy had convinced me that one day I’d know what to do with it and it would be important when I did. This wasn’t that time, and Marcus Xavier wasn’t the man I needed to worry about—at least not in this regard.
When I arrived at Zolt’s thirty minutes later, Rachel and Cory, Irelyn’s best friend and her boyfriend, sat on the couch waiting for Zolt to arrive with Brody and T-Bone. They looked beyond upset. Rachel’s hands in her lap worried the edge of her skirt in a nervous fashion, and Cory kept glancing at his phone.
“Sloan, are you okay?” Rachel asked, squeezing my hand.
“I can’t believe Marcus had you arrested, dude,” Cory said. I took my place next to them on the couch.
“I can,” I replied through the ticking of my jaw. I could feel a headache bearing down on me brought on by lack of sleep and everything else.
I looked anxiously around the room for the one person who could turn this day around. She always made everything better, and I wanted to steal a few more secret moments with her more than I wanted my next breath.
But as my life went, the one person I wanted the most remained the one person I couldn’t have.
So, instead of asking Cory why Kenna wasn’t here, I bit my tongue, closing my eyes while my mind drifted back to the first time I saw Kenna Campbell three years ago.
I pulled the town car to a stop and climbed out, circling behind to open the door for Irelyn’s friend Kenna.
As soon as she walked out her front door, the air shifted, causing me to snap my head up. A sweet fragrance born of flowers, innocence, and beauty rent the air. When her green-eyed gaze captured mine, I swear my world changed from black and white into Technicolor. It was as though she could see into the darkest reaches of my soul.
I balked at the intrusion. What hid in the recesses of my mind was no one’s business but my own. This young woman who stood before me smiling with a sparkle in her eyes didn’t belong in my dark, often dangerous world.
Still, I couldn’t help but notice her flawless,
porcelain skin with a perfect amount of freckles dotting her perky nose. Instantly, I saw the Irish in her, and it called to me on a base level.
What drew me in most was her soulful and intense green gaze that reminded me of the Emerald hiding in my loft.
She stumbled slightly, and immediately, I reached for her. We both sucked in air as our bodies connected.
“Are you all right?” I asked, knowing perfectly well she was.
“Fine. New shoes,” she answered, giggling nervously. “You’re Sloan, right?”
“Uh yeah. I mean, yes, ma’am Sloan Sullivan,” I stuttered like a tongue-tied boy, then mentally kicked myself.
What the fuck, Sullivan. She’s a teenage girl. Seriously, get a grip.
“Please, call me Kenna.” She squeezed my hand and my breath caught again. Something about her compelled me. It wasn’t necessarily sexual, but a sudden and overwhelming need to protect her. I’d never felt anything like this, and I didn’t like it one bit.
I frowned and dropped her hand so she could fold her tall body into the backseat of the car.
Kenna graced me with the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen as I closed the door, and my frown fell away. Warning signs flashed in my mind, signaling I was in deep trouble with this one, which was utterly stupid. She and I didn’t travel in the same circles by any account, not to mention she was sixteen and I was twenty-four. Men my age had no business liking anything about an underage girl. It was lecherous and creepy—two things I wasn’t, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t see she’d be a heartbreaker.
Still, as I got into the driver’s side and started the car, I knew I had just met the one person who would complicate my life to no end. I needed another fucking complication about as much as I needed a punch to the face. Though maybe, in the end, that might just be easier to deal with than what I felt now.
Chapter Two
Sloan
Present Day
