Page 24 of Forbidden Bond

“We’ll get this. We’ll figure it out. Trust me.”

“You know you don’t have to do this. All of this, any of this. You don’t—”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’d walk away from me if the situation was reversed.” He flashed her a smile. “I’m in this. No matter how it turns out, I’m with you.”

“You better be because I’ll need a place to sleep.”

Strat laughed. “Better warn my daughter in advance this time.”

“How is she? Have you talked to Jagg?”

“My family drama’s got nothing on yours. You think Ire’s at this doctor’s?”

“I’m hoping he’s at the club, or at the loft. Someone will have to give us answers, won’t they?”

“If we get in.” His eyes cut to hers, mirroring her thoughts. “If he’s in the driver’s seat, you snap your fingers, you get what you want.”

“Then we’re fine.”

“Okay,” he said, bobbing his head in understanding. “If you’re confident, I’m confident.”

Cool air passed her lips, one breath, two. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“If Conn’s in charge, if he’s okay…”

“How come the McDades didn’t storm that motel room and take out your father?”

“Maybe he blames me,” she said. Funny that it would actually be better for Conn to be mad at her than not. Mad meant alive. “My father shot him, maybe he’s pissed at me too.”

“Did Ire say anything? After it happened? How bad was it?”

“There was blood. All I saw was the blood. On his chest.”

The slight press of Strat’s lips betrayed his concern. “That’s not a good area.”

“I put pressure on the wound, I tried to—it wouldn’t stop bleeding—didn’t and—my father ordered me away, cuffed us both. Me in the corner. Conn to the damn couch. I tried to keep him talking, tried to…” The memory stung her eyes and her temples. Pain. That’s what it was. Horror and devastation. “He spoke to me, like he does, in fucking Gaelic, so I can’t understand it.”

“Why would he—”

“It’s what he does, it’s…” Her inhale became a shaky staccato. “I can’t understand the words, but I always know what he’s saying.” The truth was hail on her sensitive skin. “He was saying goodbye.”

A double take. “Why the fuck—he thought he was a goner? Why wouldn’t he just say—because your father was in the room?”

“I love him, I would do anything for him. If he isn’t… If we find out he’s…”

“I know, Scamp. I know.”

NINE

IF CONN WASN’T at Stag, there were other places to check. Optimism could be a cruel miser. Losing everything while trying to stay positive and—no, she couldn’t go there. Just like she couldn’t think about her father.

She’d figured it out, just a couple of streets away from the club. The reason she hadn’t cared much about making a concrete plan for her father’s future. If Conn was gone, if her father had killed him, she’d murder Ronald herself. What future did she have without the man she loved? None. In that case, it was only right the murderer should face the same punishment.

Strat pulled up to the curb at the end of the block. “I’m leaving it here,” he said, killing the engine.

They were far enough away from the door that anyone special pulling out wouldn’t be hindered. Going in the back way would take too long and God knew if they’d get in there anyway. At least at the front, the open door gave them an aim.

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