“Abby, please. And I’m not just here for my father’s funeral.”
“Oh? Are you doing business in the city now?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m here to get my inheritance.”
He paused. “You’re here for money during your father’s funeral?”
“It’s not like that. I promise you. I—it’s a complicated—”
I faked stuttering over my words as Liam stepped in front of me.
“Focus on me, Abby. You’re safe as long as I’m around.”
Idiot. “Sorry. Yes. Thank you.”
His finger crooked underneath my chin and I wanted to snap it in half. He pulled my stare up to his and grinned at me. Like he was supposed to be my knight in shining armor.
“What is this secret you have?” he asked.
I sighed. “My inheritance was supposed to be given to me once I graduated college. The deal was, with honors. If I aced college, I got my inheritance. So, that’s what I did.”
His finger fell away from my skin. “Did you not get it?”
“No. At the last minute after graduation, Daddy called me with a different deal. He’d transfer a set amount of money at the beginning of every month into my accounts. And once I turned thirty, the rest of my inheritance would be handed over to me.”
“Why did he change it?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I tried to fight him on it. Told him I held up my end of the bargain and that I had a set plan for my life that included my inheritance up front. Or, at least a percentage of it. I tried bartering with him. I offered to borrow against it. But he wouldn’t budge. That’s not like my father. Well, it wasn’t like my father, anyway.”
“That doesn’t sound like Richard, no.”
“Something tells me Fiona talked him into something. I can’t prove that. But there’s no other explanation. My father never backed down from his deals. If he gave his word, he stuck to it.”
He nodded. “That’s the Richard I know.”
“I’m not here just to get money. I’m here to figure out what in the world happened. And with the family isolating me like this? Not even setting a place for me at the table? I mean, come on. Do I look stupid?”
He grinned. “You’re anything but, Miss Abby.”
I snickered. “All I want is my inheritance. What I was promised once I graduated college. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t want my father’s business or any part of his other accounts. Just what I was told I’d get before someone weaseled their way between my relationship with him.”
“Sounds fair enough.”
“I just don’t know how to go about it.”
“What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “I’m assuming if I meet with Declan, he’s going to kick back on it. Rely on a paper trail to prove what I’m saying. And for all I know, it’s simply my father’s word against my own.”
His hands fell to my hips. “I actually think I have a way around something like that.”
I tried not to grimace at his touch. “Oh? Care to indulge?”
“Depends. What do I get in return?”
I snickered. “Ever the money-snagger. Just like your father.”
“Did you really expect anything less, gorgeous?”
My God, I want to slug him. “What do you want for your help, Liam?”
“In exchange for helping the most beautiful woman on this planet, I want to take you out to dinner.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “And…?”
“And three percent of whatever it is that is handed off to you in the form of your inheritance.”
“That’s generously low. I take it you’re expecting dessert with dinner?”
“I would never pressure a woman to do something she doesn’t want to do. But if you’d like to wear a nice, plunging gown for the evening, I certainly wouldn’t shake a stick at that.”
Snake. “Good to know.”
“So, do we have a deal, Miss Abby?”
He gripped my hips and pulled me closer to him. My hands fell to his chest, but more to keep him at a distance than to try and tug him closer. I gazed up into his stare. He licked his lips as he looked down at me. His face grew closer. Holy fuck, did this idiot think I’d seal things with a kiss?
I placed my finger over his lips and his eyes opened.
“Deal,” I whispered.
He chuckled before kissing the skin of my finger. He backed away with a smile on his face before he slipped his hands into his pockets. And when he moved out of my field of vision, all eyes were on me. Every fucking person in that damn reception kept giving me a side-eye, and I wanted to melt into the floor.
Get me out of this place already.
“Abigail, do you have a moment.”
I rolled my eyes at Fiona’s voice. “Abby, please.”
She walked up to my side and I turned to face her.
“Is everything all right over here? Liam looked as if he was getting a little… friendly.”
“I know how to hold my own with a man who wants something I’m not willing to give.”
She held her hands up softly. “My mistake, then. I just wanted to come check up on you. Men can be such pigs at the most improper of times.”
“Well, I’m sure just as many people assume I came onto him.”
“You’d be surprised.”
She smiled at me and plucked two drinks off a passing tray. She handed one to me before clinking her glass against mine. And not once did she take her eyes off me.
“I owe you an apology,” Fiona said.
Her words startled me. “For what?”
She sipped her drink. “For putting you in that hotel. It’s come to my attention that not inviting you to stay in the family brownstone might have driven a wedge between all of us, when what we need to be is a cohesive unit right now.”
“The family’s been under a lot of pressure. Or so it seems to me at least. Trust me, I mean nothing by it. I’m used to being by myself. It’s how I live in my own place.”
She nodded. “Still, I can check you out, if you wish. It was wrong of me to put you there. And you should be with family at the house. Under your father’s roof.”
“Well, I’ll think about it. But thank you for coming over.”
“And I don’t know who in the world set up this reception, but they are being fired the second it’s over. Brody has set you a place at the table. You’re more than welcome to come over whenever you wish.”
Yeah, I’m sure. “I did find that a little odd.”
“It was more than a little odd. It was downright rude.”
Then, why not remedy it before you ate two plates of food? “I’ll be over in a second.”
“Wonderful. And please, do consider coming and staying with us. I’m so sorry that my absentmindedness resulted in you being in a hotel. Things have just been…”
“A bit crazy?”
She snickered. “To say the least.”
“Well, if I’m going to do something like that, I’ll need to pack my bags. You know, since they’re all at the suite.”
“You don’t want to join us for some dessert? We’re having your father’s favorite.”
My heart broke a little more. “I should go pack.”
I set my drink down and turned my back to that woman. That ungodly, disgusting woman. I didn't want to hear her talking about my father. I didn't want to hear about anything regarding my father any longer. Tears rushed my eyes as grief took hold. And the only thing I thought about was getting back to my rental car. Back to the hotel. Back to that beautiful bathroom with a bathtub I could soak myself in.
Maybe drown myself in.
Why did you have to go, Daddy?
I wiped at my eyes. Horns honked as I rushed across the road. I dug the rental keys out of my clutch purse, my hand trembling like a damn earthquake. I struggled to get the key into the lock. Wait, there was no lock. How the—
Fucking hell, these damn smart cars.
What was the code to the d
oor again?
“Gotcha.”
A hand clapped down against my mouth just as I went to scream. An arm snaked around my waist before I was forced up from the ground. I kicked my feet in the air as one of my shoes went flying. Falling against the hood of my rental vehicle as I was tugged away. I shrieked into the person’s hand. Something came down over my eyes. And as the world fell into darkness, I was tossed against a leather seat in a cold car.
With Liam’s disgusting cologne filling my damn nostrils.
4
Brody:
“I don’t know why Abby doesn’t like this whiskey,” I said.
Declan chuckled. “Loyalty to her father, probably. Understanding that the Daly’s are a problem.”
“Richard, himself, enjoyed it,” Gael said.
“Probably just being nice to the fucker,” Flynn murmured.
I raised my glass. “To Father.”
The brothers followed suit. “Here, here.”
Then, we all tossed our drinks back.
“Do you guys remember the time Richard tripped and fell down the stairs?” Flynn asked.
Declan snickered. “You mean where he tumbled, shattered his knee, and had to have it replaced?”
“Oh, I gave him so much shit for that. Having a bum knee in his mid-forties,” Gael said, chuckling.
“I believe your favorite term was ‘oldie, but a goodie,’” I said.
“What’s your favorite memory, Brody?” Declan asked.
I racked my brain for one I could talk about without breaking down.
“One of my favorites was when he’d take care of us. You know, when we were sick?”
Gael sighed. “That man could cook soup, couldn’t he?”
“He couldn't cook a damn bit of anything else in the kitchen. But he insisted on cooking us soup every time one of us got sick,” I said.
“Do you think he wrote that recipe down?” Declan asked.
“Would it make a difference if it’s not him cooking it?” Flynn asked.
We all fell silent at his words.
“Anyway, that’s my favorite. Richard never once treated us as if we were adopted. We were his sons, end of the story. I’ll always remember that about him,” I said.
The brothers nodded before Flynn stood up. He grabbed the bottle of amber liquid and walked around, refilling our glasses. I couldn’t have more than this, though. I didn’t eat much at the reception and I still needed to take the nightly patrol around the damn neighborhood.
“What should we do about Uncle Martin?” Declan asked.
Flynn sighed. “Really? Talking shop on a day like this?”
Gael cleared his throat. “He’s right, though. We are still no closer to figuring out who did this to our father.”
I sipped my drink. “And with the way that man challenged your seat, he’s first in line as a suspect.”
“Wait, he did what now?” Flynn asked.
Declan snickered. “There’s still a great deal to fill you in on.”
“Care to take the reins?” Flynn asked.
Declan looked to me. “Care to do the honors? You’re practically the family speech bubble.”
I grinned. “You mean, when I’m not beating faces in?”
“Not our fault you ended up with the most muscles,” Flynn said.
I snickered. “Honestly? You haven’t missed much. Ciara Daly is now Declan’s fiancée after selling her off to clear his debt to the family. Uncle Martin keeps telling us we’re really not part of the family and that he’ll challenge Declan for his seat at the family head. Oh, and that’s after him telling us he never left the family. Just went underground to do work off the books for Richard.”
Flynn blinked. “Right. So, just a little.”
I chuckled. “Just a little.”
“Do we even believe Martin when he says that?” Gael asked.
Declan sighed. “Unfortunately, there’s a paper trail confirming his stories in Richard’s office. Nothing official on the books, but transactions to and from Martin’s accounts. Tapes with recorded meetings between Richard and our uncle. There’s no paper trail, but those operations took place. Martin never left the family business.”
“But you’re still named the head of this family in Richard’s will, right?” Flynn asked.
“In his will? Yes. But our uncle’s still under the impression that it doesn’t matter,” Declan said.
“Which is bull-fucking-shit if you ask me,” I said.
“Sounds like Uncle Martin is an issue that needs to be dealt with, then,” Flynn said.
“And once I can figure out how to deal with him, I’ll let you brothers in on the plan. Which reminds me, how are things in—”
“Anybody seen Abby?”
My brothers looked my way as Mom came into the room. She picked up a crystal glass off the tray and filled it with Daly’s whiskey. Then, she went to stand beside Declan. A fine place for her take up, since she’d have to do a bit of ass-kissing.
I mean, I wasn’t fully on Declan’s side with all that. I didn’t think Mom had anything to do with Richard’s death. But she still had to answer for the shit she pulled with James Daly. The money. Ciara. That was treason in any other family, and Declan had been merciful enough simply by not slaughtering her as an example.
“Actually, no. I haven’t seen her since the reception,” Gael said.
“Anyone seen her since?” I asked.
Declan grinned. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, if we’re talking about her father and reminiscing and generally trying to act like a family, shouldn’t she be here with us?” I asked.
“She told me she’d gone back to her room to pack her things,” Mom said.
My eyes fell on her. “When was that?”
“At the reception after the funeral.”
I blinked. “Anyone heard from her less than six hours ago, then?”
And when everyone fell silent, something stirred in my gut. I threw back the rest of my drink before pushing myself out of my chair. I started out of the fireplace room, heading straight for the front door. I needed to make my nightly rounds anyway. I could keep an eye out for Abby during my patrols.
“She’s staying at the Gray Gardens Hotel!” Mom called out down the hallway.
I didn’t bother replying to her, though.
I grabbed the first set of keys I could get my hands on and stormed out the front door. I clicked the unlock button to see which one of Richard’s vehicles lit up. Perfect. The blacked-out Ford G.T. A sleek-looking car for a sleek family. Richard always had great taste in cars. I walked over and slipped inside, falling against the leather seats. When the front door to the brownstone open, I looked up.
Declan stood there with another drink in his hand before he nodded his head.
Yeah, yeah. I know.
I cranked up the car and backed out of the driveway. I was just tipsy enough to be upset. Just tipsy enough to hate the image popping up in my head. Liam’s hands on her at the reception. The way he groped her hips. The way her body tensed. The way he tried blocking her off from the rest of the family. It was bad enough the assholes who planned this thing didn’t sit her at the goddamn table with us. I was thankful Mom sent me to fire that asshole. I had a great time sinking my teeth into him over it.
My hands white-knuckled the steering wheel as I forced myself to slow down the car.
Patrol, Brody. This isn’t a race.
I saw how Liam looked at her, though. How he licked his lips. That man had always been a spineless little knob. His father was a stand-up man. Kind of. But Liam? He was nothing but a worm. I always made sure to remind Richard of that. Every time we talked, I told him to be wary of the Maguire Family.
Maybe they had something to do with his death.
The thought made me sick with anger. I forced my eyes to look out the windows of the car as I passed by the brownstones our family owned. Homes we set up for those who worked loyally for us. Our drivers. Our family doctor. We
took care of them nicely in exchange for their treatment, their immediacy, and their silence.
Paying them to turn the other cheek while promising them money and safety for their families.
My phone rang up and I grumbled. I pulled over onto the side of the road near the water’s edge. I gazed out over the lake and picked up the call. I figured it was Declan, trying to figure out how I was. Updating me on Mom’s shit, or whatever the hell else was about to drop into our lap.
Nothing prepared me for what I really heard, though.
“Brody, help!”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
“Brody! They’re—no, get off me! Help!”
“Abby?” I asked.
“Brody, please. Just—no, get off! Stop it! Brody, they’re going t—”
“Abby!” I roared.
Her voice faded away into a muffled sob as I threw the car into reverse. I put her on speakerphone and pulled up the tracking software we all had installed on our phones. Whoever the fuck was on the other end of this line was about to pay with their life. Because if they harmed one hair on that woman’s—
The call hung up before I could even get the application going. Fucking whiskey! I bellowed out into the car as I tried to look up the number. Private, of course. Though, I tried dialing it back anyway. I fumbled with the phone in my hand. I shook with fury as I tried to find a way to track down the asshole who thought this was all right.
Then, a text rolled through my phone.
Unknown: $500,000. 1264 Barrelton Road. Two hours.
Then, the text message fizzled off my screen.
“Fuck!”
I slammed my hands against the wheel of the car. I threw my phone to the floorboard before I sped out of the neighborhood. I hopped the curb, trying to get around traffic as I made my way to the address. Because I knew exactly where that fucking address was.
It was one of our goddamn warehouses.
I didn’t have to stop off for the money, though. Our family cars were always loaded down with cash. Not for instances like this, but it would have to do. My first priority was getting Abby back. And if she had any marks on her at all, the second priority was to slaughter anyone and everyone who got in my fucking way. I clenched my teeth together. My nostrils flared with anger. I skidded into the abandoned parking lot of the warehouse we owned. Right there on the outskirts of Chicago.
Brody: The Callaghan Mafia #2 Page 3
