Brody: The Callaghan Mafia #2

by Rylan, Savannah

  “Yes?” I asked.

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Everything all right?”

  I nodded. “Of course. Why wouldn't they be?”

  He paused. “Why is there a knife on the floor?”

  Shit. “Because I’m about to start cooking. Or I was, until you called my name and scared the living hell out of me.”

  “I didn’t hear anything clatter when I called your name.”

  “Not my fault then, is it?”

  He stared me down for a long time before finally nodding his head. His eyes swept over my body one more time, then he backtracked down the hallway. I let loose the breath I had been holding. Then, I turned around and saw the bag of money still sitting behind me. Holy fuck, Liam hadn’t taken the money with him. I scrambled to pick up the knife and placed it in the sink. I gathered everything out of the fruit bowl and shoved it into the pockets of my outfit.

  Then, I picked up the satchel of money with my bare hand.

  I hauled it from the kitchen and into the bedroom. I needed to stash it away, and quickly. I pulled my suitcase out of the closet that Brody had finally cleared of any nonsense and shoved it to the bottom. I zipped it up. Stuffed it into a dark corner in the hopes that it would melt and fade into obscurity. And after I sat down onto the ground, I drew in a deep breath.

  Before removing the phone from my pocket.

  “Let’s see what the hell we’ve got here,” I murmured.

  The only number programmed into the phone was under Liam’s name. And I knew enough about the phone to know my movements with it—and on it—were being tracked. Every punch of a button. Every step I took. Logged on some software a billion miles away, for all I knew.

  “Shit,” I hissed.

  I wondered what sort of favors awaited me from the man who wanted my money. For the man who could out me, at any moment, to Brody and the entire Callaghan Family. For the man who literally had my life in his hands and didn’t care whether I lived or died.

  You’ve made a deal with the Devil, Abby.

  And yet, I didn’t have a choice. Because Liam was right. I didn’t have another plan in place. I didn’t have a plan to get the money I was owed, or to keep Brody out of my own crosshairs, or get any sort of vengeance against Declan for taking my rightful spot in the family. I didn’t have the opportunity to tell Fiona exactly how much I felt I had been replaced by her. How much I felt I had been replaced by all of them. Money fixed everything in my family. Dad threw money at everything to make sure I was taken care of. To make sure I was safe. And I spent it in order to show my father how much I adored his efforts. To show him how much I loved him. How much I respected his concerted efforts to keep me thriving and prosperous.

  Sound familiar?

  “Fuck,” I groaned.

  I looked around me. Hell, I looked down at my own body. Everything I was surrounded by had been paid for by Brody’s own accord. All of this time, being cooped up here, gave me more time than not to think. To unpack. To really get a grip on my life. And all of these thoughts painted a canvas of my life I didn't like. A woman who knew nothing but money—and spending it—as a tool for affection. A woman who knew what she wanted but didn’t know how to get it. A woman who treasured things over people, because people never stayed. Because people never wanted what was best for her. Because people were threats.

  “Oh, no,” I whimpered.

  But the one thing I wanted more than money—more than spending it, more than getting my hands on it or running away with it or going back to my old life—was the man that had taken me in. The man who had come after me. The man who sought me out, paid apparently seven million dollars without question, and took me away without a moment’s hesitation.

  Brody.

  I wanted Brody, and his safety.

  I had to keep him out of the mess I had created. So, if that meant running some errands for Satan Himself, I’d do it.

  Brody’s going to kill you when he finds out.

  Well, then at least I could spend the rest of my days with my father.

  Like the little girl in me had always wanted in the first place.

  10

  Brody

  “How do we feel about the Dalys?” Gael asked.

  “The hell kind of question is that?” Declan asked.

  Gael waved his hand in the air. “Not in terms of your fiancée. I’m talking about this Richard debacle we’ve found ourselves in that we can’t seem to solve.”

  “We need to start making moves,” I murmured.

  “He’s right,” I heard Flynn’s voice..

  I whipped my head over to Gael. “Flynn?”

  I looked down at the phone in his hand and my brother shrugged.

  “What? I figured he’d want to be part of this conversation.”

  “Actually, I was hoping you’d be talking about the wedding plans. Declan, do the two of you have a date yet?” Flynn asked.

  Declan lit up. “Yes, we do. Four months from now in the church Mom and Dad married in. I thought it would be befitting to start that kind of tradition for this family.”

  “I like it,” Flynn said.

  “Have you picked a best man?” Gael asked.

  “Are we really not going to address the fact that our father’s dead and we still have no concrete suspect?” I asked.

  The room fell silent as I sipped on my whiskey.

  “If the Dalys are in on this and we think about it logically for a second, the wedding might prove to be a vulnerable time to strike the family,” I said.

  “The Dalys have no class, but that’s lower than low. Even for them,” Gael said.

  “And yet, someone had a brazen-enough attitude to snatch our father out from underneath us,” I said.

  “I still haven’t figured out how mother didn’t know he was gone for weeks before contacting us,” Declan said.

  “Or how his body looks so decayed if he was only gone a few days,” Gael said.

  “What about the Maguires?” Flynn asked.

  I paused. “What about them?”

  “We’ve been focusing so much on the Dalys and throwing our grieving mother under the bus—”

  “Hey, we can’t rule anything out right now,” Declan said.

  “Which is the point,” Flynn said curtly. “We have to start ruling out something. Otherwise, it makes us look like fools. It makes us look incompetent and gives Martin more fuel with which to challenge your seat in the family, Declan.”

  “Which gives him motive,” I said.

  “Would Martin really abduct and kill his own brother, though?” Gael asked.

  “Again, we can’t rule anything out,” Declan said.

  “Do you think there will be issues at the wedding?” Flynn asked.

  “If you think there will be, ban them from the event. It’s not like they ever treated Ciara with any sort of decency. Not from what little you’ve told us,” I said.

  Declan pointed at me. “That’s—actually not a bad idea. Ciara doesn’t even want her father at the wedding.”

  “Who’s walking her down the aisle, then?” Flynn asked.

  “I don’t know. She hasn’t given me any options yet,” Declan said.

  “Knowing that little spitfire, she’ll walk herself down that damn aisle,” Gael said, chuckling.

  “And I’d fully support her on that. She’s a very strong young woman,” Declan said.

  “Guys, I have something to confess,” I said.

  All eyes were on me as I clutched my whiskey glass. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep this shit a secret any longer. And with Abby’s kidnapping that night, that very well might give us the break we needed in this Richard bullshit.

  “Well?” Flynn asked.

  “Spit it out,” Gael said.

  “What’s on your mind, Brody?” Declan asked.

  I sighed. “Remember that night a couple of weeks ago?”

  Declan blinked. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

  I rolled my eyes. “The nig
ht when we were all concerned as to where Abby had gotten off to. After the funeral?”

  “Ah. That,” Gael said.

  “Is there something wrong?” Flynn asked.

  I sighed. “Abby was kidnapped by Liam Maguire.”

  Declan shot out of his chair. “What!?”

  “Did he just say what I thought he just said?” Flynn asked.

  Gael hissed at me. “Why the fuck haven’t you piped up and said something before now?”

  I held up my hand. “I got her. She’s fine. She’s safe.”

  Declan’s nostrils flared. “And just when were you going to tell us that Richard’s fucking daughter had been kidnapped by the Maguires!?”

  “I thought they were on our side?” Flynn asked.

  “She’s been with me for the past three weeks,” I said.

  “Wait, she’s still in town?” Gael asked.

  “Where is she?” Declan demanded.

  “Her and I are occupying the penthouse Mom rented out for her while she was still in town. I’ve been keeping her under lock and key until I could assess what kind of danger she’s really in. I promised her one hundred percent protection, no matter what,” I said.

  Declan’s nostrils flared. “You better have some damn good information for me.”

  I stood toe to toe with my brother. “I do if you’ll calm down.”

  “You lied to us. How the hell can we calm down?” Gael asked.

  “Oh, shut up. He didn’t lie to you. He just used his head to try and protect our sister,” Flynn said.

  “Step-sister. One we haven’t hardly met in our lives,” I said quickly.

  Declan narrowed his eyes. “Start. Talking.”

  “I know you’re upset that you weren’t consulted—”

  “You’re damn right I am!” he roared.

  I held up my hand. “But you know how I am with protection. How anal retentive I can get with shit like that. Would I hide this from you if I didn’t have a damn good reason or a damn good threat hanging over my head?”

  Gael stepped between the two of us. “He’s right, Declan. Let’s hear him out.”

  “I’m ready for this story,” Flynn said, chuckling.

  “Shut up or we’ll hang up on you,” Declan glowered.

  “Wow. So tense,” Flynn said.

  I grinned. “I’ve been trying to put the pieces together on what happened after Richard’s funeral. And I’ve almost got it. Abby was kidnapped when she left. She didn’t even make it to her car, per some video footage I was about to finagle myself into obtaining. I have bonafide footage of a Maguire family car snatching that poor girl right off the street in broad fucking daylight.”

  “When did you come across this?” Declan asked.

  “About a week ago. So, when the bodyguard I hired to keep tabs on her while I’m with you guys messaged and told me Liam wanted to see Abby at the penthouse, I allowed the meeting,” I said.

  “What the fuck?” Gael asked.

  “I know. It doesn’t quite make sense. But I think Liam’s still attempting to intimidate Abby for some reason. The bodyguard says that Abby was very rattled after the meeting. And that Liam handed her some sort of a burner phone,” I said.

  “What do you think Liam is wanting with her?” Declan asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’ve been keeping her close for that exact reason. The Maguires have sunk their teeth into this woman. And I have a distinct feeling Patrick doesn’t know a damn thing about it,” I said.

  “Where did you find her after she was kidnapped?” Gael asked.

  “In our own damn warehouse across town,” I said.

  “Yep. That’s the Maguires. One hundred percent,” Declan said.

  “She was stripped down to nothing but her damn underwear. Bruised. Beaten. Crying out for help,” I said.

  “Did you use the backup money in the trunk?” Flynn asked.

  “That’s how I got her in my possession, yes,” I said.

  Declan placed his hand on my shoulder. “I’m still mad as hell at you. But you did good.”

  I nodded. “I know I did.”

  “But you still should have told us the damn girl was living with you,” he glowered.

  “Actually, no. That’s not information you’re privy to,” I said.

  “It is when it concerns the safety of this family,” Declan hissed.

  “And if I thought, for one second, this family was in danger because I withheld that information? I’d spew it in a heartbeat. But all of this is coming down on Abby. And I think I know why,” I said.

  “You better spit it out,” Gael said.

  “Give the man some room to breathe. Damn,” Flynn said.

  “Tell us,” Declan commanded.

  “At the funeral, I know she wanted to speak with you about something important. Privately. And I know that Richard single-handedly funded not only her protection, but her lifestyle in Switzerland,” I said.

  “You think she’s after money?” Gael asked.

  I shook my head. “No. I think she’s after her inheritance.”

  “That makes sense,” Flynn said.

  “I think she’s after the rest of the money her father might have budgeted to keep her safe so she can go back and continue keeping herself safe,” I said.

  “And something like this would only double-down what she wants to do,” Gael said.

  “So, where does Liam come into the picture with this?” Declan asked.

  I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. “I saw them talking at the reception. Liam was getting pretty handsy with Abby and she wasn’t a fan of it. I think Liam knows why she’s in town, and is threatening her to try and get her money.”

  “The Maguires aren’t tempted by money, though,” Flynn said.

  “Correction. Patrick Maguire isn’t tempted by money,” Gael said.

  “And we know how much of an ass Liam can really be sometimes,” I said.

  We all stared at Declan as he digested the information I had offered him. But when he didn’t say anything, Gael broke the silence.

  “I could get a crew to the Maguires to pay them a visit for what they did to Abby. Doesn’t matter if Patrick didn’t know about it. A move by Liam is a move by the entire family.”

  Declan pointed to him. “That’s an idea. Get it together. And while you’re over there, see if they’ll confess to murdering Richard.”

  “You think they had something to do with it? We’ve had a good bond with them for decades,” Flynn said.

  “Which stopped the second Liam stepped out and decided to harm Abby,” I said.

  “As angry as I am at him right now, he’s right,” Declan said.

  “You’ll get over it,” I said flatly.

  Declan growled. “What did you say?”

  “I have to get back to Abby. I have to relieve the bodyguard stationed at her door for the night,” I said.

  “Is there anything else going on between the two of you we should know about?” Gael asked.

  “Wait, seriously?” Flynn asked.

  My eyes slowly found Declan’s and he sighed heavily.

  “Just go. We’ll deal with it in time,” he said.

  And I didn’t have to be told twice.

  I stormed out of the house and headed straight for my car. I soared back toward the hotel, because I knew I needed to update Abby on everything that had taken place. Especially with Gael going over there with a crew to speak with Patrick himself. I’d have to stick close to her for a little while. Because this would surely backlash with whatever it was Liam was doing to this poor woman.

  Don’t get distracted. Talk to her. Don’t get distracted. Talk to her. Don’t get distracted. Talk to her.

  I chanted the phrase to myself as I headed up toward the penthouse. As I walked down the small hallway. As I used my keycard to get in. The scent of her perfume wafted up my nostrils and I felt my cock already hardening. Already stiffening. Already getting into character for the nasty, disgusting ritual w
e had set for ourselves every evening.

  But nothing could have prepared me for the sight I saw when I walked through those double doors.

  Especially in that damn lingerie she had on.

  11

  Abby

  I heard the door open and gave myself one last look. The thin straps of the bra, barely holding my tits up. The thin straps of the panties, with my pussy lips poking softly through the hole in the crotch. My black heels laced up my calves as my ass flexed itself against the strain. Even I knew I looked devilish.

  But I wasn’t prepared for Brody’s outfit.

  As I walked around the corner, he stopped. Standing there in the foyer of the penthouse with a tailored suit on. A suit, of all things.

  Did he walk out of here in a suit this morning?

  His hungry eyes devoured me. They raked over my body as his navy suit clung to the meat of his body. His muscles pulsed through the fabric. I watched him lick his lips as my nipples puckered against the pathetic lace of the bra. My pussy lips already glistened for him. Tucked between the tight lines of black lingerie that barely held the silken scraps of fabric together.

  “Holy fuck, baby girl,” he growled.

  I stood there, frozen in my spot. I watched him loosen his tie. Slide his coat off his shoulders. He untucked his shirt as he moved toward me, his eyes blowing wide in carnal lust. All day, I’d had this planned. Seduction. Foreplay. All in an attempt to soften him before we spoke. Whispering sweet nothings in his ear to put him in a good mood. Possibly a bit of nibbling against his neck before I came clean as to what really happened with Liam.

  But, as he approached me—stalking his prey—the words flew from my head.

  “Brody,” I whispered.

  I growled. He gnashed his teeth at me. He ripped his belt out from the loops of his pants. I gasped as he wrapped the leather around my bare waist. Pulling me close to him as he backed me against the wall. My hands splayed along the cool paint. His body etched itself against mine as he gazed down into my eyes.

  Say it. Tell him. Stop lying to him.

  But I couldn't find my voice.

  “And what do we have here tonight?” he asked.