Page 65 of Bartered Innocence

Aodhan hesitates for a moment, only briefly looking at Declan. “What if Isabelle is?—”

“No,” I say, the ice in my voice making my stance clear. “Think about it, truly think about it. Does Isabelle seem like the type? Believe me, my suspicion was there. But you’ve all spent time with her.”

Cillian smirks, twisting his knife faster. “She’s fiery, but she wears her emotions on her face.”

“She has too good of a heart,” Cormac says softly. “They would have never involved her with business willingly.”

Aodhan stands, rubbing at his bad shoulder. “I know. Fuck, I know. I watch her every day, the way she’s basically adopted Deirdre like a long lost grandmother. I’m just—fuck!”

His shout doesn’t bother any of us. Aodhan has been betrayed the most by this revelation. Ottawa was one of our deadliest ambushes. If the bullet had gotten him only a few inches over, I would have lost him. The worst part is that Ottawa was a delivery we had picked up at the last minute, and we figured the ambush had been the Camorra or even the Cartel farther south, given the dealer had been one they usually dealt with. It never crossed my mind that it could have been the Famiglia and that we were betrayed by one of our own.

“Go back,” Cillian says suddenly, pointing out a spot on the map that Declan had been cycling through on the screen. “There.”

Declan frowns. “It’s an empty lot. Buildings have been abandoned for a while.”

“I don't think they're abandoned,” Cillian says, shaking his head. “I drove past it the other week. If it’s not a real shop, then it’s a front.”

“What street was it again?” Cormac asks, scrolling through his phone when Declan answers and holds up a text for me to see. “Johnny and a few more of your cousins asked for a ride the other week just a road over. I didn't think anything of why they were that way, given we called a tow to get their broken down car to the shop.”

My stomach twists and I lean forward, running my fingers through my hair. There’s only one possibility of why they’d be hanging around abandoned buildings, trying not to garner attention. “I told the men no more wash spots. We have enough to sustain the money. We need more business to front the legal line in case the feds start sniffing around.”

“Say it’s a front, where’d he get the money? Johnny pisses away everything he gets,” Cormac says, the defeat in his tone making me glance away. It’s making us think of all our men in a different light, seeing what they’re doing right under our noses.

“It’s no coincidence we gave Johnny access to the information passed between wash spots, and suddenly we got hit harder,” Aodhan says through gritted teeth.

We’re silent for a moment, knowing with certainty that Johnny’s loyalty is no longer with us.

“Let me know the next time he visits,” I tell Declan. “Now let’s go over the financial reports. Which families need the most support this month? Make sure to add some for Conor’s wife and daughter, but keep eyes on the wife.”

Chapter25

Isabelle

Double-checking the oil’s temp,I flour the counter before grabbing my dough from the fridge. Rian is out late again, and I can’t get the images of him covered in blood out of my head. It scared me for all the wrong reasons. I’d been terrified…that it was his blood. That somehow he’d been hurt until I saw the leering glare, the dark desire burning in his eyes.

I sigh, falling into the calming motion of rolling out the dough. Baking isn’t my preferred choice, but it’s too late to eat a full meal and my sweet tooth is calling. A prickling sensation on the back of my neck has me glancing at the door, and my heart jumps when I see the very man I’ve been thinking about.

He’s leaning on the frame. His buttoned shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows and tight fitting black jeans are free of blood. His beard is a little longer. He hasn’t trimmed it in a few days, and it makes him look a little more rough than usual.

“What are you making?”

“Beignets.”

Rian’s eyebrows raise. “Beignets? I didn’t expect that.”

“I want to go to New Orleans one day, especially the French Quarter. Everything about it seems…transcendent. And to learn about the food from the locals would be a privilege.”

It’s a secret I’ve never told anyone, a desire I couldn’t fathom would come true. A hope that was crushed the minute I wasn’t allowed to travel for school.

“New Orleans is beautiful.”

My hands freeze and I turn to him, my mouth open. “You’ve been?”

Rian’s lips quirk in the corner. “I’ve traveled a lot, Isabelle.”

I roll my eyes, returning my attention to cutting out the squares so I can fry them. “Right, men have more freedom to do whatever they want.”

His low chuckle washes over me, and the muffled thuds of his shoes as he moves closer to me have my stomach tensing in anticipation. He didn’t touch me this morning, probably because after our bloody shower, he didn’t allow me to leave the bed for hours, taking me over and over. Both of our bodies were rung out for everything they’re worth. Both of us wear marks to prove it. By the second round, my anger at him had dimmed enough to beg him to come inside me. I shiver as my nipples harden at the reminder.

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