Page 117 of Forbidden Bond

“Why did this happen tonight?”

“Was gonna happen eventually,” Whisper said, strutting along the upper floor to slowly descend the stairs one at a time.

“Byrnes aren’t known for their brains.”

“All muscle, no hustle,” Whisper said, reaching her level. “Said your guy was smarter than a lot of others at the top, didn’t I? I’m good at being right. Want a margarita?”

“Where’s Raze?”

“Working.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Seemed to be a regular thing, Whisper staying away from the action. The why still perplexed her.

“Thing with Zay is when I’m around, he doesn’t keep his attention where it’s supposed to be. Most of the time, it’s on my ass. So do I mind when he does the heavy lifting? No. It’s the fucking middle of the night, why do I want to go out there and shoot Byrnes…?” Whisper paused; her lower lip betrayed a pondering. “Okay, the shooting Byrnes part is no problem. But with the strength of McDade numbers around here, I’d probably shoot the wrong guy.” Funny until the prophecy came true and Conn found out. “Someone has to stick around to do the bail and lawyer thing if necessary. Where are we on the margaritas?”

“I’m waiting here. Right here. Until my brother shows.” Or her boyfriend, but she doubted that would happen first. “I need to find out what the hell is going on.”

“He’s cute, your brother, guy like him coming to the dark side? There’ll be a helluva lot of soaked panties, uh huh, all the way through, mark my words.”

Disgust wrinkled her nose. “Okay, now I need alcohol, strong alcohol, to erase that mental image.”

Whisper swung around Strat at the foot of the stairs only to spin and face her again. “Heard you’ve been stressed about it, your righteous brother hanging out with the villains.”

“Oh yeah? From who?”

Whisper shrugged. “Word travels. And here’s my wise, learned opinion… go with it.”

“That’s your advice?” Having expected something sage… and useful, she sagged. “I thought you’d back me up.”

“I am backing you up, High Class. I’m with you all the way. You’re tilting at windmills, baby. Go with it!”

Raising an arm, Whisper sauntered off to disappear through a door.

“Want to go to the basement?” Strat asked. “Check out the prisoners? Don’t know how long your brother will be.”

“Lach has to show eventually. And I’ll be right here when he does.”

Transporting their dad at least kept her brother safe from the initial fight at Stag. Didn’t save her lover, but she couldn’t dwell on that.

“Don’t want to see your dad?” Strat asked.

“I’m Cushla Machree. I don’t take meetings at that level.”

Despite the locks and chains, her father would still attempt to condescend her. What did he have to say? Nothing of interest.

No, it was the younger McLeod that troubled her. Her brother’s return to the club after escaping deserved an explanation. Demanded one.

“Relax, Scamp, Ire knows what he’s doing.”

“We ran out of there too fast. Niall showed and I—why did I run out on Conn?” Something she could remedy. They’d driven their latest stolen car onto the grounds, but there would be others, non-stolen, around somewhere. “We have to be with him. Stick with him. I should never have left.”

Intending to go outside was one thing, actually getting out was another. After her best friend, a guy twice her size, put himself in her path, fleeing wasn’t so easy.

“Calm the fuck down. Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the club. My club. Where I’m allowed to go. Where I’m safe. Where Conn is.”

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