Page 24 of The Professional
Forrest frowned. “I don’t know about his campaign, but I can tell you about his son. Adrian’s a good man. He’s never been able to see eye to eye with his father, mostly because the good senator is a religious man who believes fags should go to hell. Adrian grew up in the church.”
“That’s all good and well for him, but what has this got to do with Diaz?” Jamie asked, interrupting Forrest.
Forrest sent him an agitated glance. “If you let me finish, you’d find out.”
Jamie held up his palms, flashing that charming smile in Forrest’s direction. “My apologies, handsome.”
Forrest’s cheeks warmed, and he cleared his throat, aware of Rourke’s heavy stare lingering on his face. “As I was saying, Adrian grew up in the church. His father acted like a faithful man of God for a while, but George Honor wasn’t a good person like Adrian. Adrian caught him cheating on his wife, more than once.”
“Really?” Killough stroked his chin.
Forrest nodded, his heart racing in his chest in excitement. “He never had solid proof, because he was scared of being kicked out of home, but his father liked younger women. In their early twenties. He said one or two might have been in their late teens.”
“And his mother? Does she deserve her life to go up in ashes?” Killough asked.
“Adrian doesn’t say much about her, but she never put a stop to the verbal abuse that his father gave to him, so yeah, I figure she deserves it.”
“Could we get evidence of this?” Conall peered around at everyone in the room.
“Is that even a question?” Jamie’s grin turned sly. “We have men as quiet as mice. They could pop into a police precinct and blow the whole thing up, and no one would know who did it. Taking a few photographs of the good senator with a young woman wouldn’t be a problem.”
“So that’s another problem handled. I have a feeling the senator will be a lot easier than Diaz.” Killough pinched the bridge of his nose and the gesture reminded Forrest a lot of Rourke when he got frustrated. How well did they really know each other?
Forrest glanced at Rourke with a glower. How close were he and Killough? Forrest realized he didn’t know as much as he wanted to about Rourke’s former mob life. He’d said before he used to do the shit jobs for Killough, but what kind were they?
“We can handle it, boss. Guess that’s a good thing about owning bordellos, huh?” A man whose name Forrest had forgotten laughed from one of the seats.
Killough didn’t look as convinced as the other man. His forehead creased in worry, or maybe thought. Forrest didn’t know him well enough to know which one.
Lorcan pointed at Rourke. “You’re Rourke, right? Where do I know your name from?”
Rourke’s shoulders stiffened and his face hardened. There was something defensive in the way he faced off with Lorcan, and Forrest shuffled closer to offer his support. If Rourke noticed the action, he didn’t acknowledge it.
Lorcan’s face lit up and he laughed. “Right, you’re Rourke Tormey, Patrick’s son.”
Rourke raised his chin. “Yes, I am.” The hard, sharp edge of his voice could have sliced through skin.
Lorcan leaned forward, the curve of his mouth dangerous. “So my question is, how do we trust your word when your father proved to be nothing more than a coward and traitor?”
“Lorcan….” Killough’s warning hung in the air and the tension thickened between the men.
Forrest touched Rourke’s shoulder, surprised at how tight it felt under his palm.
“My father made a big mistake, and he paid for it with his life. My family, we aren’t like him. I’m not like him. I’ve proven my worth to the company time and again.”
Lorcan snickered, and the obnoxiousness spurred on Forrest’s anger and protectiveness of Rourke. “I wouldn’t trust you if you were the last man on Earth, Tormey. Your father cost us millions of dollars. If you ask me, Sloan should have put your head on the chopping board as well.”
“You piece of shit,” Forrest snapped before he could stop himself, surging forward. Rourke grabbed him around the waist to stop him from tearing over there and punching the smug bastard right in the mouth. “He’s ten times a better man than you’ll ever be.”
“Lorcan!” Killough shoved Conall to his feet before standing, his imposing height and build towering over the men sitting in their comfortable little circle. “That’s enough. I trust Rourke. He’s right in that he’s proven his loyalty to our company more than once, and I won’t have you questioning my ability to choose men for my team, am I clear?”
Lorcan’s lips pulled back in a snarl and his jaw twitched, but he nodded. “Yes, sir.” When he turned his attention on Forrest, the nastiness in his stare made Forrest flinch.
Rourke kept his arms around Forrest’s waist and dragged him closer until his back met Rourke’s chest. They stayed there together, staring down Lorcan, challenging him to say another word.
The silence weighed heavily in the room, and Rourke broke it first.
“If it’s all right with you, sir, Forrest and I would like to wait in the foyer for the remainder of the meeting.”
