Page 46 of Líadan's Code

Seán snarls at me, throwing up his hands. It’s actually almost comical. I don’t think this’ll blow back at me, so I merely shrug, leaning back in my seat to cross my arms. I can’t work if he breaks me too badly. Bruin only punched my face a few times before beating the shit out of my torso.

Great employer. Real peach.

“The girlie here says you had a part in her growing up. Tell me, was she this much of a pain in the ass as a teenager?” he complains. Looking back, I can’t say that she was. Shaking my head with a small smile I deny it.

“She was a perfect angel,” I chuckle. “Layla is growing into her own person, I for one love it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Your uncle is a bad influence,” Seán mutters to Layla.

His shifting mood swings make me hold back an eye roll. I haven’t done anything to Líadan or her allegiance to her father. Her plans are all her own, and she’s been keeping them pretty close to the chest. I’ve been in my head so much, but I’m sick to death of it.

We need to have a very in-depth conversation about everything when I get back. I’m going to lay the things that I’ve learned out for her and Brendan, and then tell her how I feel.

This hot and cold pull that we’ve been having is hurting her, and Líadan doesn’t know what to do with those emotions.

So it’s up to me to be an adult and talk to her about it.

“Come along then, you saw him, Layla. I’m not planning on killing the man anytime soon, he’s too valuable,” Seán says.

“This is incredibly petty,” Layla says, following him as he opens the door.

“The Irish are not known for being level headed,” he barks out in laughter as he escorts her out.

…And then I’m alone with my thoughts again.

Sighing, I start laundering the money for this very club, shaking my head. At the very least, I know Layla can take care of herself. I just hope she doesn’t get outmaneuvered by Seán O’Brien.

Chapter Eleven

Líadan

The door opens and closes at three in the morning. Because Jordan doesn’t have keys to the townhome, I simply left the door unlocked. Brendan and I are two of the most dangerous people in Chicago, I wasn’t worried about anyone who shouldn’t be barging in.

I went to bed an hour earlier, but knew the second the door opened, that I would wake up.

“Alright, Lía, let’s go see him then. I’m sure he’s hungry, right?” Brendan says, kicking off the blankets.

If his mother had raised him and he had any shred of kindness given to him outside of me, I’d say that’s why he seems to be obsessed with feeding Jordan. It’s adorable, and very outside of Brendan’s normal behavior.

Scrambling up, I shove my feet into knee high socks. I’m already wearing a long-sleeved shirt of Brendan’s that I went to bed in, but no panties.

They’re overrated, anyway.

Pulling my hair up into a high messy bun, I link my fingers with Brendan’s as I come around the bed and walk out the door with him. Jordan is starting up the stairs as we begin down them, and I shake my head.

“Kitchen,” I state. “Turn your tight ass around right now.”

“Bossy much, Princess?” Jordan asks, chuckling. In the darkness, I can’t really see much of him, but he’s favoring one side more than the other.

“Yeah, I am. Move it,” I say. “I’m serious.”

“Alright,” he sighs, turning more carefully than I’d like. Biting my lip, I follow him down the stairs and through the house to the kitchen.

Flipping on the light, I wince as I see his quickly blackening eye. It was just starting to heal.

“What happened?” Brendan asks as if it doesn’t look as bad as it does.

Moving easily through the kitchen, he starts to heat some corned beef hash that he made earlier on the stove, making sure to crack eggs over it as it finishes cooking.

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