“Sir?” Scotty said, still staring at me. He had a hint of suspicion in his expression, like he thought maybe I’d set this up. He should know better. I didn’t want my brother on my case any more than he did. “How are you this morning?”
“Good,” Tate said. His eyes, though, were narrowed, as he studied Scotty. “Oh, how rude of me. Skylar, Scotty, do you remember one another, or should I make introductions again?”
Scotty smiled, and it was just as fake as Tate’s introduction. “Yes, of course I remember your sister, sir.” He hesitated, then held a hand out to me. “How are you, Ms. Daniels?”
“Excellent.” I slid my hand into his, jerking back as soon as I could. His skin still made mine tingle, which wasn’t fair. “It’s nice to see you again. How have you been?”
Scotty fisted his hand. “Great. Busy with work.”
“So I hear.” I tucked my palm in my lap, safely out of reach. Tate watched us, more than likely waiting to see if we slipped and showed something we shouldn’t. So . . . he was suspicious. Great. Once he was on to something, he was like a dog on a scent. We wouldn’t be able to shake him off. “Well, I guess you two are headed in now?”
“Yeah, I am, at least. Not sure about you, Scotty,” Tate said, putting his hands in his pockets, turning his back to his intern. “Though I don’t like leaving you out here alone, Skylar.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said stiffly. “I’m going home soon, anyway, to get ready for school.”
Now that he was leaving.
“How about you go up now instead?” Tate asked. “I’ll walk you up.”
“Stop worrying, I’ll be fine. I’m going to try to catch some sleep before class.”
Scotty eyed the red leggings and black sweater I’d tossed on. I’d had them on yesterday when he kissed me good-bye. I’d been too busy pacing and not sleeping to change clothes. “Just coming home from a night out?”
“No.” Tate frowned at me, then Scotty. “She doesn’t stay out all night.”
I stiffened. “Actually—”
Scotty smiled, laughing lightly. “I was just teasing.” When he turned to me, all signs of laughter faded. “Going home now, Ms. Daniels?”
His tone was light, but his gaze was demanding. I refused to run home because both men said I should. “No. I’ll stay here until I finish with my coffee. It was nice seeing you guys, though.”
Tate’s nostrils flared, but he leaned down and kissed the top of my head, knowing I wouldn’t give in if I didn’t want to. “Love you.”
“I love you, too,” I muttered, turning away from Scotty. Saying those words in front of him, even though they weren’t to him, felt weird. “See you later. Good luck.”
“You should go home, Ms. Daniels,” Scotty said, his voice hard. “There’s a lot of stuff going down in the city right now. You’re safer inside.”
“I haven’t seen anything on the news,” I said slowly, closing my book, staring up at him and blinking. “Funny, how you both keep talking about this ‘danger.’”
“You’ll just have to trust us on this,” Scotty said, glancing over his shoulder quickly. Tate watched, frowning. Something silent passed between Scotty and me. Something I didn’t fully understand, but it didn’t make it any less real. “Please?”
We had a tiny stare down.
Tate watched, stiff.
The longer we glowered at each other, the more his curiosity grew.
I could feel it.
Finally, I looked away, simply because I knew Scotty wouldn’t back down. He brought stubborn to a whole new level. Hoping to take the focus off us, I turned to Tate. “You’re seriously that worried about me?”
He nodded once.
“Fine.” I cleared my throat, ducking my head, and checking Scotty out one more time. “I’ll go home.”
Relief crossed Scotty’s expression, and he flicked a quick glance at Tate—who looked about as happy as a cat caught out in pouring rain. Tate held his coffee out for Scotty to take, and then grabbed my books off the table for me. I could carry them by myself, but it made him happy to help, so I let him. “I’ll be right back down. Hold this for me?”
“Yes, sir. It was nice seeing you again, Ms. Daniels,” Scotty said gently.
“Yeah.” I lowered my head. “You too, Mr. Donahue.”
Tate threw his arm around me, and led me toward our building. “I know you think it’s stupid, but I still worry about you.” He paused. “Apparently, Scotty does, too.”
I lowered my head. “I don’t know what you mean. He was simply backing up his boss, I’m sure.”
“Is there something going on I should know about?” he asked, not accepting the excuse I’d given for Scotty’s behavior as easily as I’d hoped
“What? No.” I laughed. “God, no.”
There went that brow again. “Okay.”
“I’m serious. I haven’t seen him since the night he was at the charity event in your place. And I barely spoke more than a word or two to him that night, as well.” I stepped away from his arm, facing him. The last thing I wanted to do was get Scotty in trouble . . . even though I hated lying to Tate. “Don’t go getting all protective older brother on me. There’s nothing going on between us that you need to know about.”
That, at least, was true. He absolutely didn’t need to know about what we’d done.
His lips twitched as he held the door to my building open for me. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I love you, but you need to relax.” I walked past him, into the lobby, and started up the stairs to my floor. It was faster than waiting for the elevator. Tate followed me as I added, “I’m not a little girl anymore, you know.”
“I know,” he said dryly, taking the steps two at a time. “If you recall, I tried to hook you up on a date just the other day with a perfectly suitable guy. One who could take care of you. How’s your schedule looking, by the way?”
“Full,” I muttered. “Really full.”
He groaned dramatically.
“It is,” I said defensively as I turned down the hallway toward my place. “Besides, he’s probably not my type anyway, and we both know it.”
“But Scotty is?” Tate asked caustically.
We’d reached my door, and I crossed my arms, giving him my best annoyed look. “I never once said he was, or wasn’t, my type.” I pointed at his chest, poking him gently. “Don’t go putting words in my mouth, Tate William Daniels.”
He winced at my use of his full name. “He’s not for you. He’s too much like our father.”
“Your father. I didn’t have one.”
His brow furrowed. “Skylar—”
“Just drop it. I never said I wanted Scotty to be my type, so stop worrying about whether or not he is.”
He nodded, not looking at me. “Yeah. Okay.”
“I love you, Tate.” I fixed the collar of his suit jacket, then rested a hand on his shoulder. “And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“I feel the same way about you.” He smiled, his blue eyes soft and tender instead of guarded and alert. “You’re the only good thing left in this world, and I just want you to be happy.”
“I am.” With Scotty, and the rest of his colleagues, he was cold and callous, but to me, he was the best brother a girl could ask for. I’d fight anyone who suggested otherwise. “Why wouldn’t I be happy with you as my brother?”
He twisted his lips into an almost smile. Lifting his wrist, he checked his watch and sighed. “I really do have to go. Dinner tomorrow night? I have another big meeting next Friday, and it’s gonna run late, so I’ll miss our normal night.”
We went out to dinner together every other Friday. It had been our thing ever since I started college. I nodded, smiling. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Oh, and my lawyer will be coming by to see you later
today, around five. You need to sign a few papers for me,” he said, stepping back. His shirt was crisp and free of wrinkles. “Should be quick and easy.”
“What kind of papers?”
“Nothing. Just my will and living testament.” He lifted a hand. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s just a precaution.”
Yet . . . I felt like it wasn’t.
“Okay. Sure.” I hugged myself, swallowing hard, knowing something was up. Something he was trying to hide from me. He should know better. I could read him easier than anyone else in the world. “Everything’s okay, though. Right?”
“Of course.” He smiled again, but it didn’t reach his eyes this time. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
He clearly had no idea that I knew more about him than he’d ever want me to. So I didn’t say anything, just smiled. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I watched him go, swallowing hard. My phone buzzed and I pulled it out.
It was Scotty. Everything okay up there?
I slid the key into the lock and slipped inside my apartment. Yeah, it’s fine. He’s on his way down now.
Does he know about us?
I dropped my purse and locked the door behind me. I didn’t tell him anything. I told you I wouldn’t.
Good.
I bit my lip, staring at the short replies he was giving me back. It was like our first date all over again. There was my confirmation I’d been seeking that he was pushing me away. Even so, I stupidly put myself out there, and typed: Will I see you tonight?
It showed up as read instantly, so I waited for an answer I knew wasn’t going to come. He didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. Even if he hadn’t actually broken things off last night, this morning would have served as a wake-up call. Tate suspected something was up, and nothing good would come if he learned he was right.
I rested against my door, knowing Scotty was right to end things, but hating it anyway. I lost track of how long I stood there, staring at my phone, waiting for a reply. But after a while I shook off the cloud of sadness hanging over me and pushed away from the door, heading to the bathroom. Time to shower, and study, and then study some more . . .
And time to forget all about Scotty Donahue.
He’d already decided to forget about me.
CHAPTER 15
SCOTTY
“That’ll never work. They’d spot us coming from a mile away,” Brian growled, shaking his head. “No way, O’Brien.”
“But they’ll all be in the meeting,” Chris argued, pointing at the square on the drawing that represented the room the men would be in. “We could open this door, scare all the women out of the room at gunpoint, and take the men down without worrying—”
Frankie shook his head, looking murderous. “And let the chicks sound the alarm? No way. You’re high if you think I’ll allow that.”
Tate stood back, watching everyone argue, rubbing his chin. He had his other hand on his hip, and his brow was furrowed. His red hair was as immaculate as ever, but he looked . . . tired. Like his heart wasn’t really in this fight. Sure, he wanted to win, and he was pissed at Bitter Hill, but something like this wasn’t Steel Row, and he seemed all too aware of that fact.
“They’ll run at the first sign of danger,” Chris said at the same time. “Or we can set a small fire in the front, giving the women a chance to see it and run, and then put a damn bomb at the other end of the club’s escape route, and blow the Bitter Hill assholes up. We pick off the ones that survive and make it out the front. It’s perfect,” Chris argued, glancing at me quickly. “Back me up, Scotty.”
Putting the women in danger sat wrong in my gut. I wanted to minimize the potential loss of life even though I was fairly certain we’d be able to pull this off without a hitch. I had the DEA at my back, and we were all locked, loaded, and ready to swoop in to stop this war, once and for all. Furthermore, the more witnesses we had against Bitter Hill, the better. But if those women were armed, and they shot at us, it could all go south really fast.
There was no clear “right” answer here.
Just as I was about to speak, the door burst open, and an older member, Roger, stumbled in. We turned incredulously toward the man. No one ever interrupted a closed meeting. Ever. It was unheard of.
Tate’s hand dropped, and his face flushed with the murderous rage I saw burning in his eyes. “You better have a hell of a good reason for opening that damn—”
“I’m sorry,” Roger said quickly, searching the room till he found who he was looking for. “But . . . Chris.”
Chris stiffened, straightening. “Yeah?”
“It’s . . . It’s your girl. Molly.”
Chris stilled, his face going ghostly white, his fists rolling at his sides. “What?”
“The hospital called repeatedly, so I finally answered your phone for you. She got in a car accident . . . but we don’t think it was an accident. I sent one of the recruits to check it out.” Roger flicked a glance at Tate, wringing his hands. “Word is, she was on her way home from school, and a car hit her. Witnesses say the driver got out and started for the car, a gun in his hand, but a cop showed up, and he fled the scene.”
Chris stepped forward, jaw working, then stopped. “Is she . . . ?”
“She’s alive. At Boston West Med.”
Chris didn’t say another word. Just started for the door. I followed after him, brushing past Tate without a thought. He caught my arm. Locking eyes with me, he said, “Don’t let him do anything stupid. Not yet.”
I nodded once, gritting my teeth.
He let me go, and I hurried after Chris, ignoring everyone else. If he lost his shit over this, there would be no holding him back. And if Molly . . .
No, she was fine.
She’d be fine.
I caught up to Chris. “Hey, she’s okay. Don’t—”
“She is not okay,” Chris growled, shoving through the door into the late afternoon sunlight. We’d been at this all morning, meeting after meeting, going over every possibility for every scenario so we could attack Bitter Hill fully prepared. “And it’s my fault. They’re dead. Every one of them. Fucking dead.”
I grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “Yeah. Next Friday.”
“No.” He shook me off, quickening his strides and pulling his gun from his holster. He stared down at his gun, checking the mag. “Right now. Don’t even think about trying to stop—”
I shoved him into the car, pressing him against it. “Stop being stupid. We need to keep our heads in the game. You told me that yesterday.”
He aimed his gun at my head, pressing it into my temple, his face perfectly composed. “Get off me. Now.”
“No.” I didn’t back off, even though he could easily blow my brains out in his anger. “I understand you’re upset, and I am, too. I like Molly. But you can’t—”
He took a swing at me, and I lurched back, knowing all too well how much power was behind that fist. “Fuck you, you don’t understand anything. You don’t love her. You don’t love anyone!”
I slammed him back into the car, easily disarming him since he didn’t actually intend to shoot me. I slid his gun into my back pocket, casting a surreptitious glance toward the clubhouse to see if anyone watched us. No one did . . . yet. “You need to pull yourself together. Take a deep breath, maybe two, and then I’ll get you to Boston West. To Molly.”
He struggled to free himself, but I didn’t budge. Too much was at stake to lose him now. “She’s my life. My world. She’s why I breathe. Why I fight. Why I stayed. And she . . . she . . . I . . .” He deflated in front of me, his eyes closing as he said, “It’s my fault. This happened because she loves me. Because hurting her hurts me.”
“And you’ll get your vengeance. I swear it. They’ll either die or get caught by the DEA and never be free men again.” I backed up and
held my hands up in a nonthreatening manner. Chris might be strong, and a hell of a fighter, but if push came to shove, I’d take him to the ground. “But, first, let’s go check on your girl. Okay?”
He let out a deep breath, and covered his face. The sun was shining in an impossibly blue sky, a complete mismatch for this situation. It should have been pouring. Chris spoke, dropping his hands in defeat. “I never should have gone back to her place that day. Never should have told her I loved—”
I opened the car door for him. It was his Mustang. I’d drive him there before hitching a ride home, so he’d have his car there. “Don’t say something you’ll regret. She loves you, and you love her, and Bitter Hill shouldn’t have the power to change that.”
He didn’t say anything.
Just lowered his tall frame into the car.
“Besides,” I added, watching as he settled into his seat, staring straight ahead with a hard jaw. “She’d kick your ass if she heard you say that.”
I slammed the car door shut, palming his keys, which I’d taken out of his pocket without him even noticing. As I settled into the driver’s seat, I buckled in, then started the car. He stared at me as I sped out of the parking lot and onto Monroe. He held on to the door, cursing under his breath. “This is my car. Why are you driving?”
“Because I don’t trust you to drive right now.”
I swerved around a parked car, narrowly missing the Buick coming our way. “Says the man who almost crashed my car. Put one scratch, one damn scratch in it, and I’ll—”
“Kill me. I know.” Opening the glove box, I tossed my personal phone at him, using my thumbprint to unlock it instead of the passcode. We’d driven to the Patriot together the day before and I’d stashed it in his car, and then promptly forgotten about it. In our rush to leave the clubhouse, we’d left behind the other cells. “Call the hospital. Try to get ahold of her.”
Chris dialed first Molly’s number, and then the hospital. As he spoke to someone, his voice low, I stared at the road ahead of us. It was weird, seeing Chris like this. So scared. So unsure. So damn vulnerable. It was something I would have sworn he’d never allow.
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