Page 34 of Forbidden Bond

He did a quick run through of stocks. “There’s nothing here to eat. Nothing to—”

“Don’t worry about me. Go check how Lach’s doing with the superintendent.”

“Your father. You should be there.”

“Soon as Conn is back, I will be.”

“Scamp…”

Done with the conversation, she departed the kitchen. “I’m going upstairs to take a bath. See yourself out. Strat.”

TWELVE

A BATH. A movie. Alone. She didn’t want to be alone but did want to follow orders.

Lying in bed, staring at the black dome above, she wanted his eyes on her. The nights they’d spent in bed there, mornings they’d woken together… The first day she’d seen that camera, he’d asked her to put on a show. If that light was on, she’d do it again, and again, and again. Anything to tempt him into showing up.

Wait in the bedroom, that was the rule.

Shit, it wasn’t easy.

The investigative part of her, the curious soul, wanted to be out there pounding the pavement, canvassing, talking to anyone and everyone. Would that put her in more danger? Would Conn see it as disobedience?

At her grandfather’s that night, before they’d gone inside, Conn believed she doubted him and his ability. This was her chance to show faith. In him. In the McDades. That he knew best.

Didn’t help that she didn’t have a phone either. Though after calling everyone from Strat’s with no answer, what would be the point of doing the same thing over again except to further frustrate her? Steeple would pick up, but what the hell would she tell her boss? He’d offered her time off to grieve. Chances were he thought that was the cause of her absence.

Oh, if only.

“Mo Grá…” On a sigh, she opened her arms, offering herself to him wherever he dwelled. “Come back to me.”

The whispered words made no difference to anyone except her and—was that…? Sitting up, she listened to—shit, the front door closed.

Leaping from the bed, she ran to the landing and—

“What’s up, Bluebell?”

“Up…? Daly, my—oh thank God.” Pleased to see him alive, this could be, he could be, her chance to get answers. “Where is he?”

He held up a folder. “Want to come down here?”

“I’m supposed to stay in the bedroom.” The landing was an extension of the room, in her head anyway. “Is he here? Is he coming to—”

“Need you to sign some things.”

“You came here for… admin? What the fuck, Daly?”

“I go where I’m told.”

Yeah, didn’t they all. Her friend wasn’t usually cagey with her. His whole mood seemed… off. Tense and awkward almost.

Sinking onto the floor, she curled her legs beside her. “What’s going on, Daly? Please?”

He came to the foot of the stairs. “This is important.”

Again with the folder.

“I don’t give a fuck about paperwork,” she said, defiant in her frustration. “Tell me where he is. Tell me what the fuck is going on. Why is Play at the club? Madison is in town. What about Nicki? The guys there haven’t been—”

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