Page 112 of Connor's Claim

At the door, Connor pulled me into a hug. “In case it needs to be said, I’m fucking glad ye don’t hate me anymore.”

“I never hated you.”

“Then I projected because I hated myself.” At my expression of enquiry, he twisted his lips. “Ye chose him over me. In my mind, if he was that much better, what did that make me? I didn’t say it was logical.”

My heart dropped. “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.”

Connor held me tight. “Ye didn’t. All that time, and ye were working to protect me. Did I mention how fucking in love with ye I am?”

My heart skipped a beat. He’d tattooed ‘loved’ on me, but I’d never get used to hearing that word. “I love you. I’m plotting ways to tattoo that on you later.”

His groan sent shivers down my spine. “Business and food first. I’ll eat ye alive when we’re back in bed and let ye loose with my gun.”

We entered Arran and Genevieve’s apartment, just the four of us in the spacious living room that resembled ours, only with fewer knives. Genevieve swept me into an unexpected hug which I returned with a wave of emotion, and Arran palmed my shoulder.

“We’re glad you’re safe,” the gang boss said.

Connor glowered at him. “No fucking thanks to ye.”

Arran tracked his enforcer, his eyebrows diving together. “You mean I should’ve sent more people to watch over Everly.”

“I mean ye should’ve taken care of her in the same way ye would Gen.”

To my surprise, Arran sighed in defeat. “You’re right. Everly, I apologise. In future, that will never happen again.”

“You really don’t need to?—”

“I do.” He stopped me. “Our whole organisation is set up around keeping women safe. Conversely, that makes us targets and creates more risk for the people we care about. I should’ve done better.”

Warm-cheeked, I ducked my head, swapping a glance with Genevieve, hers telling me she already understood this way of thinking. I’d spent so long being put in harm’s way without thought, it would take me longer. Not with Connor, though. His devotion tinged with mutual ownership had been my first taste of safety and one I’d never forget.

Connor directed me to a seat at a round table, eyeing the food. “Leesh joining us this evening, or are we waiting to talk shop?”

Arran opened containers and set them out in the centre. “She didn’t answer my message. I’ll call down after we’ve eaten.”

I gathered they were talking about Alisha, who I’d met in passing but hadn’t spoken to much. She was the third member of their team, so I wanted to make a good impression.

Dinner, which was an array of Spanish dishes, passed by quickly. My hunger was satisfied, but it was obvious that Connor and Arran were dying to get back to business. The minute we were done, we all took the lift downstairs.

The usual thud of bass music permeated from the nightclub, and as the men hunted down Alisha, Mick and Manny appeared behind us.

I already had my bag and phone back because one of them had the foresight to grab it when pursuing me out of the office, even including my little desk cactus, but I gave them my thanks, pushing away their sorrowful apologies for the afternoon’s events. It was behind us now.

Our operations manager hunt took us into the strip club. Perched on a dressing table in the backstage area, Cassie waved to us. She darted over and hugged me.

“I heard about what happened. Damn, girl.”

“I know. I’m glad we found you. I want you to be in on the conversation so we can girl-detective after.”

Pink formed on the apples of her cheeks. It looked like happiness at being included. “I’m there. What are we leading with?”

I heaved a sigh. “I’m here but I don’t think I’m actually safe.”

Cassie and Genevieve moved in closer. I continued.

“Think about it. My father wanted something from Piers, and in exchange, Piers was getting me. Why did my father choose him of the three prisoners Connor has?”

It was strange that I could say a sentence like that without even blinking, but such was my life now.

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