Page 34 of Velvet Chains
He tilted his head, an exaggerated look of surprise crossing his face. “This is unprecedented.”
“It’s a hard emotion for me to process,” I said. “So consider yourself warned: you might have to bail me out of jail if this goes south.”
He smiled, then his expression schooled again. “Seriously, lad. Tristan has your back but he can be ruthless if you make a mistake that threatens the family. And if he finds out about this before you tell him…”
I sighed, staring at the ceiling instead of the judgement in his eyes. “I know. Okay? I get it. I’m not an idiot. I know this could fuck everything.”
“You’re family.”
“And so is she.”
“You have to tell him about Russell. Even if you don’t tell him about your daughter or Ruby.”
“I told him someone broke into her house and I killed him.”
“That’s not enough information. You have to tell him everything about Mickey Russell.”
I chewed on the last of my breakfast sandwich. “If Tristan thinks that Ruby is an actual threat to the Callahans, he will…do whatever he needs to do. I was given a task. I was supposed toruin her, right? This would ruin her. But it would ruin Rosie too, and that’s my daughter, Liam. How do I do that?”
“She should’ve thought about that when she kept it from you,” he said. “Is that what you’re going to tell him? Give him a different timeline?”
I glanced at the photo on the wall again—three kids in expensive clothes, arms around each other, grinning like idiots. Malachy wasn’t there that day. We’d gone…camping, maybe? I couldn’t remember. But it had been fun. Our faces were muddy, the sun right in our face, all of us squinting at the camera.
Tristan was the oldest; protective, always dangerous, always next in line. He didn’t want to be the heir. He hated it. But that was the way it had to be and we had known that since we were kids.
As I’d gotten older, I’d learned the truth. He wasn’t more mature, not exactly. He was just a different kind of reckless.
We didn’t know that he’d be this stone-cold motherfucker, this business-savvy adult who married an Orsini woman—even if that, in all honesty, had been a strategic move and not an act of love. He’d fallen in love with Adriana, but…well, that had been its own clusterfuck. Just thinking about it gave me a headache.
Liam was right; he was going to be pissed. But I couldn’t keep hiding this from him. If I told him enough of the truth, I had a shot at damage control. If I told him just enough, maybe it wouldn’t even really matter if—when—he found out about the rest.
I could live with pissing off my oldest brother. I could live with screwing up the task with Ruby. I could live with embarrassing Tristan, disappointing him, letting him down.
What I couldn’t live with was Rosie and Ruby getting caught in the crossfire.
I just had to make sure of it.
I dropped my sandwich wrapper in the bag and got to my feet, the movement more restless than decisive. Liam immediately looked away, cursing. “Jesus, Kieran…you could at least throw some pants on when you’re staying in my guest room.”
I snatched my boxers off the bed, tugging them on. “Sorry—you know, just…crawling drunk into bed in the middle of the night doesn’t lend itself to propriety.”
“Fine, but try to keep yourself decent,” he muttered. “You’re not the only one who uses this room, you filthy animal.”
“Anyway—back to what I was saying,” I rolled my eyes. “Ruby didn’t tell them anything. I’m the only one with my dick on the line right now.”
“I wish you wouldn’t mention your dick.”
“Liam, please focus.”
Liam only looked back at me once I’d put my pants on, scowling. He leaned back, pivoting on the chair. “She’ll talk eventually,” he said. “You know that, right?”
“She might not.”
“She’s the Boston DA. She would be incredibly stupid if she didn’t. From what you’ve said, she’s not stupid.”
“She’s not stupid,” I agreed.
“Then she won’t keep her mouth shut.”
