Page 69 of Connor's Claim

I gave Shade a winning smile. “And ye survived the night, go ye.”

He snorted. “You’re more like him than I guessed.”

“Ye mean ye underestimated me because I’m small and a girl?”

“Honestly? Aye, in part, I did. I was wrong.”

I stroked the cat on my lap like a cartoon villain. “Don’t know how ye thought I could escape the crazy in my family. We all came from the same wrinkly old ball sack. One of my earliest memories is of watching my brothers dispose of a body.” I gestured to Everly. “I can teach ye how to handle a blade. I haven’t killed anyone yet, but I can down a man three times my size, pick a lock, and I’m also handy with a lighter. I’m excited at the idea of your attacker being my first.”

Everly gaped. “It’s like I’m friends with the female version of Connor.”

A choked laugh came from Genevieve. “Good for you, Cassie. Why should the boys get all the fun?”

Again, Shade considered me thoughtfully like he was reassessing me.

He was the enforcer here, I knew that from Arran. He killed people. Presumably, he slept well at night, too. I could take a lesson.

Genevieve turned back to Everly. “On the subject of danger, please say you’re staying here?”

“Yep. For now, I’m living with Connor. I’m also taking the rest of the week off work.”

Shade muttered something like, “And never going back.”

I was still stuck on the previous detail. “Who was the man your father set ye up with?”

Everly squirmed. “His name is Piers Roache. He works in finance. My father is courting him for some reason, probably to line his pockets in some way.”

“They’re close?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I only met Piers once before, a year ago, but now he’s staying at our house and my father is bending over backwards for him, so I guess that could be true. Why?”

I tapped my lip with my pen. “Our working theory was that there could be two men. Cherry’s councillor client was bringing along a man she didn’t like.”

“You think it could be Piers?” She considered that then brought her phone from her pocket. “I’ll check his socials and see if he was around when she died.”

As she typed, Shade gestured to Arran. “Look up his name, will ye? I havenae had a chance yet.”

Arran collected the tablet that had showed us Red’s ugly mug and swiped to unlock it. He studied the screen.

“What are ye checking him on?” I asked.

“We have a no-service list that we share with other clubs.”

“The worst of the worst,” I guessed.

Without glancing up, he nodded, and I imagined the violent, abusive scum whom no woman would go near. I’d known Arran for a long time. He was friends with my brothers, and it was my family he’d come to when he needed help setting up the warehouse. We were investors, myself included. All of us defended the line that women had the right to sell their bodies safely.

The more time I spent at the warehouse, the more involved I wanted to be.

“Can I get access to that list?” I asked.

He scrolled. “You could if you needed it, but last I checked, you don’t work here, Cass.” Then he tapped the screen. “Piers Roache. Got him.”

Everly pressed her fingers to her lips. “He’s on your list? For what reason?”

“Known sadist, meaning he enjoys causing pain.” He lifted his head. “He was barred by two London clubs for injuring their workers.”

She shivered. Shade breathed through his nose and held a hand out in a silent request for the tablet. Arran passed it over.

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