Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
He picked up his phone and dialed without taking his gaze from the photo. Liam answered almost immediately. “What can I do for you, boss?”
“I need you to find everything you can on an FBI agent named John Finch. And I mean everything—I want to know who he cares about most in the world, and if he has any vices that can be exploited, and every noteworthy case he’s had in the last decade.”
Liam hesitated. “There a reason you don’t want Cillian on this? The kid’s getting pretty damn good at hacking. Give him a half an hour, and he could get you everything you need to know.”
If he did, Cillian would find out about Teague.
Aiden shook his head, even though the other man couldn’t see. “I want you on this. Only you. And, Liam, it goes without saying that this stays between us.”
Another hesitation, longer this time. “Is there something going on that I need to know about?”
They’d been friends for a long time. Aiden didn’t like taking the boss man tone with him, and, truthfully, Liam didn’t need threats to do his job. He sighed. “There’s trouble, but until we have this information, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.” The cat was already out of the bag where Teague was concerned—he’d already talked to the feds. Now it was just a matter of figuring out what he’d told them.
And doing damage control.
“Got it. I’ll see what I can do and pass along the information as soon as I have something.”
“Thanks.” Aiden hung up and sat back, releasing a pent-up breath. He’d fix this. It might not be the way his father would have gone about it, but he’d fix it all the same. Their family had taken too many blows in too short a time, and he’d be damned before he let one of their own bring them down for good. Depending on what Teague had told the feds, their father could be looking at jail time right alongside Victor Halloran.
Aiden could be looking at jail time.
He stared at the phone again, the tightness in his chest making it hard to breathe. Hurting Teague right now, even to get information, would do more harm than good, but he had to know what his brother had told John Finch—and he had to know it sooner, rather than later.
If he didn’t…
If Seamus returned and found out what Teague had done…
Aiden cursed and scrubbed his hands over his face. Sloan’s disappearance had broken something in their father. He’d gone out to the house in Connecticut with their mother and just…not come back. Aiden spoke with him daily, but he’d more or less handed over everything. Aiden kept thinking that one day Seamus would show up and take control again, but it hadn’t happened yet.
Now he was starting to wonder if it would never happen.
He’d been trained to expect a knife in the back from everyone around him—from ally to enemy. In their world, everyone was out for themselves and willing to play dirty to get what they want.
He just hadn’t expected the hand holding the knife to belong to his brother.
* * *
It took Sloan the better part of the day to put a name to the emotion sinking its barbs into her. Fury. She hadn’t seen Jude since he walked out of the bathroom last night, though she hadn’t really expected to. Her body ached with the memory of what he’d done to her, and even as angry as she was, she enjoyed the remnants a little too much. Last night was the first time she’d truly taken control.
And look how that ended up.
Wonderful sex with a less-than-perfect man. She stretched and stood. Though she’d had every intention of attending the yoga session at sunrise, she’d slept until ten. Between the diner and Jude, apparently she’d needed the sleep.
Restlessness drove her to clean, but it hadn’t taken long, since the house was in immaculate condition. So she’d gone to the little market, but short of a few select items, she didn’t know what to shop for. I need a cooking class. Maybe that way she could expand her diet to something other than diner food and salads.
At least I can’t burn salads.
A knock on the door had her freezing. It could be Jude. Sloan shook off her initial impulse to rush to open it, and made her way slowly to the front of the house. If it was him, he could very well wait on her whim—especially after how last night had ended.
Except, when she opened the door, a curvy blond woman stood there. It took a second for Sloan to place her, but when she did, she smiled. “Jessica.”
“Sloan, right?” Jessica held out a hand, her high ponytail bouncing with the motion. “You were there and gone at yesterday’s class before I had a chance to formally introduce myself.”