“Why not?” she asked.
“Because I don’t exist.”
Tilly opened her mouth to question him, but Colm shook his head sharply, glaring at her.
Right, don’t ask too many personal questions.
Colm had grilled her on the way over about being careful what she said to other people, especially to Jimmy, who made his money from information.
Just keep it brief and to the point.
“Do you know where my friend is? Miller Toresso.”
Jimmy sat back on a large, plush chair. “Take a seat. No need to stand around.”
Colm stood by the door. He nodded to her.
She sat but leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “My friend, Miller. You said the other night that she wasn’t with the Vipers by choice and I needed to get her out. How did you know that?”
“I know a lot of stuff.”
She barely resisted snapping at him. “Yes, I understand you know everything that goes on in this city,” she said with a sweet smile. Maybe a bit of flattery would help speed things along.
“I do.”
“The Vipers said that Miller left. Do you know if that’s true or not?”
“I do.”
“So can you tell me? Can you tell me where she is?” Damn it, he was frustrating.
“Certainly.” His gaze turned calculating. “But it’ll cost ya.”
Shoot, why hadn’t she considered this? Because she wasn’t used to dealing with mercenary criminals, that’s why.
Tilly stared at him in desperation. “I don’t have any money on me—”
He slashed a hand through the air, looking impatient. “Not money. I need to speak with Rogan. He won’t talk to me. I didn’t sell him bad information and I need him to stop blackballing me. It’s bad for business.”
Why didn’t he ask her for the moon while he was at it?
“I don’t have any influence over Rogan.”
“But your boyfriend does.”
Tilly fought back tears of disappointment.
“Thanks for seeing me.” She stood and turned toward Colm. How was she going to find Miller now?
“Wait,” Jimmy said, a hint of urgency in his voice. “That’s it? You’re just going?”
“I can’t get you a meeting with Rogan. It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect Dylan to talk to him, either.”
“Christ.” Jimmy shook his head. “Will you at least put in a good word for me?”
“This information helps us recover the girl and I’ll tell Rogan you helped,” Colm offered.
Tilly sent him a grateful look.
“All right, that’ll have to do,” Jimmy said grudgingly. “Your friend did approach the Vipers.”
Damn, she’d hoped that information had been wrong.
“But she hasn’t left. They’ve got her locked up in one of their whorehouses.”
Oh God. What was Miller going through right now? Tilly chewed her lip.
“Do you know where?” Colm asked.
Jimmy gave them directions.
“Come on, Tilly, let’s go.”
“Thank you,” she said to Jimmy, sending him a grateful smile before she hurried after Colm.
“You know where this place is?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“So you’ll take me there?”
“Hell, no.”
She grabbed his hand and tried to tug him to a stop, but he kept walking and she ended up looking like a child tugging at their parent’s hand. She let him go and followed him out to the car. Colm watched his surroundings carefully, his gaze alert. He opened the passenger door for her, shielding her body as she climbed into the car.
“Why not?” she asked as he started the car. “If you know where this place is, why can’t we go there now?”
He gaped down at her in disbelief. “You cannot be that naïve.”
Tilly ran her fingers through her hair, tugging at it lightly. “Who knows what Miller is going through? We can’t just leave her there.”
“We won’t,” Colm said grimly. “But we’re not going to just barge in there and insist they hand her over. That’s just asking for trouble, and I like my head without a bullet hole in it.”
She gaped at him. “They’d shoot us?”
“There has to be a reason why they lied about your friend. I don’t see them just handing her over with a smile, do you?”
Tilly rubbed her head. “So what do we do?”
“Wait for Rogan to get home and tell him what’s going on.”
“That could be hours!” she protested.
“Call Dylan,” Colm ordered.
“My phone is back at the house.”
Colm sent her a look of disbelief. “Don’t ever leave the house without your cell phone again, understand?”
“You know, you can be really bossy.”
“And you can be naïve and foolish,” he snapped back.
The rest of the drive was in silence. As soon as he parked the car in the garage, she opened the door and jumped out.
“Tilly, wait.” He gently grasped hold of her shoulder. She shrugged him off. “Please.”
She paused.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you. But it’s my job to keep you safe and I take that seriously.”
Tilly turned to look at him. “I know I’m out of my league and I don’t really know what I’m doing. But Miller is in trouble and I need to help her. No matter what she’s done, she’s still my friend.”
“I know, and I admire your loyalty even if I think it’s wasted on your friend. But you can’t just go jumping into things you know nothing about. You can’t say anything about this to anyone else.”
“Why not?” she asked in confusion.
“Because there is more to this than just your friend. Iker lied to Rogan. Rogan’s going to want this handled a certain way and we need to wait for him.”
“Crap.”
“Let’s go inside and call Rogan and Dylan then we’ll know what to do.”
“All right. I’ll wait.” For the moment.
***
Dylan turned off his phone and handed it over to Cillian, who took it with a nod before they walked toward the restaurant. Cillian had parked at the rear of the parking lot.
“This place needs better lighting out here,” Dylan commented.
“The people who frequent this restaurant don’t like the light,” Rogan replied.
“Everything okay?” Dylan asked.
Rogan had seemed tense and quiet on the way over.
“Yeah, just waiting for a ball to drop.”
Dylan knew what he meant. Rogan was balancing a hell of a lot.
“You need to delegate more,” he advised as they got closer to the restaurant.
“That your professional opinion?”
Dylan shrugged. “A good manager delegates.”
“Is that what I am? A manager?”
Dylan pulled open the door to the restaurant. “You’re a manager, an arbiter, a strategist, and a psychologist.”
Rogan snorted, shaking his head as he stepped into the restaurant.
The sound of Russian filled the room and Dylan immediately tensed. He studied the room and didn’t like what he saw. Most of the men in here probably belonged to the Russian mob. They appeared to be hard, dangerous men.
“Relax,” Rogan said. “We’re on friendly terms with the Russians.”
“Since when?” Dylan asked.
Rogan shrugged. “Before my time. My father brokered a deal.”
“Really?” Dylan was surprised.
“The old Russian mob boss died five years ago. His nephew, Aleksandr took over. New blood brings in new ways of thinking.”
“Mr. MacGuire,” a quiet voice greeted them and Dylan looked down to see a tiny woman standing in front of them. She couldn’t be more than five foot and she looked as though a stiff breeze would blow her away.
Rogan smiled at the woman. “Sofia, how many times have I told you to call me
Rogan?”
A light blush covered her cheeks.
“Yes, sir,” she replied. “Aleksandr is waiting for you in the back room.
“Thank you. Are you working tonight?” He turned to Dylan. “Sofia is the chef here.”
“I wasn’t supposed to be working tonight, but the new kitchen hand didn’t turn up so I’m helping out. Go on back.”
“Thank you.”
Sofia turned and walked back toward the kitchen.
Dylan followed Rogan through the restaurant.
“You know her well?” Dylan asked as reached the back of the restaurant where it was quieter.
“She’s Aleksandr’s cousin,” Rogan replied.
They stepped into a small office. He gazed around in interest as Rogan stood patiently by the desk. Suddenly the back wall came away and a tall man appeared in the space.
“Who’s he?” the man asked in a thick Russian accent.
“A friend. He’s acting as my second tonight.”
“Where’s Brandt?”
“Busy,” Rogan said shortly. “I’m vouching for him.”
There was a tense silence then the other man nodded.
“No weapons? No phones?” the other man asked.
Rogan shook his head, holding his arms out as the other man ran a handheld scanner over him. He did the same with Dylan then gestured them inside. They walked into a larger room with a round table in the middle. Three men sat at the table. The man directly opposite watched them carefully. “Rogan, welcome,” he said.
“Aleksandr,” Rogan said, taking a seat. Dylan took up a position behind him. Rogan quickly greeted the other men.
“Now we’re just waiting on Iker,” Aleksandr said.
This was a poker game with an agenda. All of the men in this room played a large role in San Antonio’s underbelly.
The man who’d let them in, Aleksandr’s second, glanced up as a bell went off. He watched at a small screen mounted on the wall that showed Iker and his second waiting in the office on the other side of the door. The Russian let Iker and his second in.
“Right, now that we’re all here, let’s get started,” Aleksandr said.
***
“Dylan’s not answering his phone,” Tilly said, tugging at her hair. “Where the hell is he?”
“They must be busy,” Colm said as he put away his cell. “Rogan’s not answering his phone either.”
“Do you think they’re okay?”
“I’m sure they’re fine,” he replied. “I’ll check with Cillian.” After a short conversation, he hung up with a frown.
“What? What is it?” she said urgently.
“Cillian said they’re both fine. They’re at a poker game. No phones allowed.”
“A poker game. Who cares about that! Tell Cillian to get in there and tell them I need them!”
“He can’t do that. This is no ordinary game of poker. When they get out, he’ll tell them to contact us straight away.”
She stared at Colm frantically. “Miller could die while we wait for them to finish their damn game!”
“She’s been there for days, Tilly. A few more hours won’t hurt.”
It was a callous thing to say. Tilly knew that Colm had little sympathy for Miller. But he didn’t know her.
Sitting, she leaned her elbows on her knees and rested her head in her hands. “I don’t know how long I can wait.”
“You’ll wait as long as you need to.” Colm stood and patted her on the shoulder as he walked by her. “Oh, and Tilly?”
“Yeah?” she replied, glancing up at him.
“Don’t get any ideas about sneaking off to save her, got it? You’ll end up needing rescuing, and I’ll end up in the hospital with every bone in my body broken.”
“I know. I’m not that stupid.” Maybe if she was braver she’d try to get Miller out on her own, but she wasn’t. She had no idea what she was doing and she wouldn’t risk herself or anyone else by trying to do this alone.
With a sigh, she walked into the kitchen. Might as well bake while she was waiting. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she decided to call Dylan again. No answer. She left him a long voicemail. Then, deciding to cover all her bases, she sent him a text explaining everything.
Once that was done, she pulled out the ingredients for bran muffins. These guys probably needed something healthy after all the cookies they’d been eating.
Twenty minutes later, Aedan walked into the kitchen. He’d been in London for the last two nights and she was glad to see him. He had his own place, but it seemed like he spent more time here.
“Aedan! You’re back. Did you just fly in?”
“About an hour ago. I had a shower and thought I’d grab something to eat.”
He headed to the fridge and grabbed a soda.
“Urgh, how can you drink that stuff so late at night?” she asked.
Aedan shrugged. “What’s been going on? Why are you baking so late at night?”
Tilly told him everything that had happened. She knew Colm had warned her against telling anyone, but surely that didn’t include Aedan. When she finished, Aedan was staring at her with a mix of sympathy and alarm.
“I can’t believe Colm took you to Mrs. Chu’s,” he said. “Is he asking for an ass whupping? Dylan is going to be furious.”
“It’s just a whorehouse,” she said with a lot more indifference than she’d felt this afternoon.
Aedan raised an eyebrow. “That so?”
“Yes. But what are we going to do about Miller? We have to get her out of there.”
Aedan took a sip of his soda. “We will. Once Rogan gets back.”
“Ugh! Can’t anyone make a move around here without his say-so?” she said in frustration.
Aedan grinned. “He is the boss.”
“I’m so sick of hearing that. What if they’re gone all night?”
“I tell you what, if we don’t hear from them in the next hour then we’ll come up with a Plan B, okay?”
She heaved a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”
Her phone beeped.
“It’s from Dylan.” She frowned as she read the text message.
Millr wth 7 Sinrs. Dnt tell any1.
“What does it say?” Aedan asked.
She handed her phone over to him.
Aedan looked up at her after reading it. “That’s odd. Jimmy must have his facts wrong again.”
“No, I don’t think so,” she said slowly.
“Why?”
“Because that text isn’t from Dylan.”
Chapter Ten
Dylan sighed as he left the room he’d been stuck in for the last four hours while the underworld leaders of San Antonio hashed out plans and disputes. This shit was tiring. He didn’t know how Rogan did it all the time. He thought he had a lot of things to juggle in his job, but they didn’t even come close to what Rogan dealt with on a day-to-day basis.
Most of the talk had been taken up with the Seven Sinners, who seemed to be getting on everyone’s bad side.
Dylan was vigilant as he left the restaurant and moved into the dark parking lot toward the car. But instead of finding Cillian, Brandt stood there smoking a cigarette.
“Where’s Cillian?” Dylan asked.
Brandt took another drag. “Came to give him a break. He’s pulled some long hours, and he’s got his kid tomorrow. Shared custody.”
Dylan winced. Damn, that had to suck. He couldn’t imagine not having his own child living under his roof.
“Where’s the boss?” Brandt asked.
“Talking with Aleksandr.” Rogan had wanted a private word with the Russian mob boss. Dylan had waited until they were all gone before leaving to give Rogan his privacy. He didn’t like leaving the other man alone, but Rogan had told him earlier than he trusted Aleksandr, and what he had to say was for the other man’s ears only.
“You left him alone in there?” Brandt asked.
“That’s what he wanted. He’s the boss.”
“Y
ou thinking of moving here? Becoming one of us?” Brandt asked, his gaze calculating.
Dylan held his hands up. “No way. I’m just repaying a favor.” Rogan had a lot going on and finding this traitor was at the top of his list, watching his back while he did it was the least Dylan could do.
Rogan appeared, and Brandt came to attention.
“You shouldn’t be alone with that Russian, boss,” Brandt said, his voice slightly chiding.
Dylan raised an eyebrow. The only person he’d ever heard talk to Rogan like that was Aedan. But Rogan didn’t snap back. Instead, he just sighed. “It was just a quick chat. Besides, I can take care of myself. What are you doing here, Brandt? Where’s Cillian?”
Brandt didn’t seem perturbed by Rogan’s annoyance. “I told him to go home. He’s got his kid tomorrow.”
Rogan eased down at that explanation with a nod. “Right. Let’s go.”
They climbed into the back seat of the car, and Brandt jumped in the front. “I had another reason for coming here,” Brandt said, twisting around. “I have a lead on the girl.”
Dylan’s gaze widened. “Miller? Tilly’s friend?”
Brandt nodded. “Seems she’s taken up with the Seven Sinners. She’s at one of their drug houses. Want to head over there now or want me to send some men?”
Rogan gazed out the window for a moment. “We’ll go. Call Colm. Get him to meet us there.”
Brandt started the car, and they could hear him quietly talking into his phone.
“How the hell did she get mixed up with the Seven Sinners?” Dylan muttered. Something about this felt wrong.
Rogan shrugged. “Probably looking for a fix. You headed out tomorrow?”
“I think that’s best, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Iker seemed tense tonight. Best to get Tilly out of the city. Sweet girls like that have got no business hanging around with me.”
“I don’t know, she seemed to think you were a pretty nice guy,” Dylan smirked at him as he recalled Tilly telling Rogan he was nice.
Rogan snorted. Then his gaze narrowed as he stared out into the streets.
“I’m glad Tilly’s not with us,” Dylan said. “I want to have a chat with her friend before she sees her.”
“If she’s capable of talking,” Rogan said. “The shit the Seven Sinners sell ain’t good. Could have fried her brain already.”
Sinfully Yours, Sir Page 12
