Page 130 of Connor's Claim

Riordan

Divine and Divide reopened the evening of Alisha’s funeral with a night dedicated to her name. Tension in the city was high, and the focus on Deadwater had turned global, with four women now killed in almost identical fashions capturing attention worldwide.

I knew from whispers then public news that the post-mortems of Alisha and some of the women before her that sedatives had been used. That made headlines, with speculation rife over the fact that any woman could be next. How the fuck did you defend against someone who knocked you out cold and slit your throat?

Then used you as a message no one could work out.

A dark vibe hung over the clubs.

For the sake of the women, and fewer men, who worked here, money still needed to be made, but the staff remained nervous. Clients were vetted heavily, and everyone was searched before being allowed in. A job I often took on as I learned the ropes.

Arran and Shade had been behind closed doors, plotting how to handle the threats against their crew while the heat on them remained high. My sisters made the decision to remain locked down, Gen switching her course temporarily to online, and Everly picking up work managing events in the warehouse.

For the first time after agreeing to join the gang, I felt relief that I could stay close to the women I cared about. I made a point of checking in on both regularly, even when they’d done nothing but hang out upstairs.

Tonight, I worked the reception room of the brothel, keeping the workers safe and monitoring the men who came here to get their dicks sucked.

Discomfort crawled over my skin, and I rolled my shoulders under my skeleton crew t-shirt, playing sentinel in my position against the wall.

Something was off.

I couldn’t tell what, but it had my senses alert and my hackles up.

The entryway to the stairs opened, and a woman stepped out, her gaze flitting over the room then landing on me. Inwardly, I sighed. Moniqua had left me alone for a few weeks, but from the beeline she made for me now, her interest wasn’t over.

Stopping in front of me, she clasped her hands together and peered up with big eyes. “Riordan. I’ve been trying to find you.”

“How did you get in here?”

“I’m a member now.”

I wasn’t touching that nugget of information with a barge pole. “I’m working so I can’t chat.”

She darted a glance around and leaned in closer so her perfume filled my nose and I had a clear sight down her low-cut top. Not that I was looking. I never had, and wasn’t interested now.

“I needed to see you. Baby, I’m scared, and no one makes me feel safe like you do.”

Briefly, I closed my eyes. I didn’t like causing pain. I knew all too well how rejection stung. I’d lived with it for years, copping a double dose from two men I could’ve called Dad but neither of whom wanted the role.

“We’ve already had this conversation. I can’t be what you want me to be,” I said. “I’m sorry, but this can’t happen.”

“You don’t understand. I need you. It doesn’t matter if you’re with someone else.”

Inexplicably, my thoughts went to Cassie, the dark-haired wild girl who’d listened to my outpouring of woe and hadn’t judged me. Who had hidden depths that hinted at a deadly side barely concealed under her cute, bouncy surface.

I thought about her too much and too often.

In my bed, alone. Against the shower wall with my dick in my hand.

Not that I could do anything about my attraction. With the plans I was making, all I could bring was trouble.

I didn’t know how, but I intended to force the sperm donor who’d sired me to acknowledge his act. To get justice in one way or another. I hated how he’d rejected my mother. I got angry at the imagined scene of her presenting her news to him, maybe happy, probably scared, and being summarily brushed aside. Worse—ordered to end the life of the baby she already loved.

He’d kept tabs on me yet hadn’t once stepped in. Even when Mum died, and for the month or so where Genevieve and I risked homelessness. I understood now why her father resisted letting us stay. The man loved her and hated me, yet we came as a package deal so he’d been forced to tolerate my presence.

All that time, my real father hadn’t given a shit.

“Riordan?” Moniqua brought me back from my dark thoughts.

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