Page 9 of Mob Bride

Neither have I it just came to me. What else? Employment history?

Sean

She works for a clothing manufacturer in their HR dept

I glance at Carys. HR? I could definitely see her firing people. Nothing about the prickly porcupine I’ve met makes me think she’d welcome someone with open arms to a new job.

Sean

Come by after you drop her off and we’ll have breakfast. I’ll dig deeper into who she is.

Me

Sounds good. We’re pulling up to the hotel now.

I slip my phone back into my pocket before I gently nudge Carys awake. Her eyes flutter open as best they can, and if it weren’t for her battered face, a groggy, sexy kind of look would normally get my cock to twitch. But hers does nothing except make me want to wince. She’s a beautiful woman, even with the condition she’s in.

That’s not what makes me so angry looking at her. I’d feel this kind of rage regardless of how attractive a woman is. It’s the idea anything could diminish that spunk I saw yesterday. Considering how much pain she was in and still must be in, I can only imagine what she’s like on her best days. She’d match wits with me and likely spin me in circles.

“Carys, we’re here. We’re at your hotel. Do you need me to carry you in?”

I cock an eyebrow, purposely arrogant. She scowls at me, and even though my face doesn’t show it, I’m smiling. It reassures me she can still manage. I follow her into the hotel. I’m hardly impressed by it, but it’s not bad enough to make me worry. She bypasses the front desk and goes straight to the elevator.

I don’t look to the side, but my peripheral vision tells me the front desk clerk isn’t paying enough attention to care what we’re doing, which means he didn’t notice the condition she’s in. It’s a blessing in disguise. Normally, it would piss me off to walk into a hotel with someone who needs protection and realize even the staff doesn’t care what happens here.

I follow her onto the elevator, and we ride up to the seventh floor. When she lets us into the room, I scan my surroundings. She unpacked, but there’s something about the room that feels off. It doesn’t feel lived in. I’m certain her story would be that she arrived, put her stuff away, and went straight to see Jesse. But even though I see the empty suitcase, which means she tucked her clothes away somewhere, it doesn’t feel as though she spent any time here at all, like a maid unpacked for her and left the room looking untouched. Except this isn’t the kind of hotel where they have that kind of maid service.

I give her space as she collects the few items she has in the drawers, but I keep an eye on her. She has very few things, as though it truly was just for a weekend stay. I turn away when she goes for her underwear drawer, but I notice she has three matching sets, so that makes me wonder what she’s wearing now.

That slight sense I got that she’s into kink roars back to life. If only she were someone else, and if only this were a different place. But she’s in no condition to be thinking about getting tied up and spanked. And worse than that, or maybe it’s better than that—I don’t fucking know—she’s Meredith’s daughter. I’m not taking advantage of this situation because I don’t want Meredithto skin me alive. Considering she’s a surgeon, she’s just as well equipped to do that as I am.

Once Carys is entirely packed, she comes to stand in front of me with her bag. I reach to take it from her, but she pulls her arm away.

“Shane, you’ve been really helpful, and I appreciate your kindness, but I’m good from here. The subway is just a couple blocks over. It’ll take me to the train station. I’ll get on board, and I’ll go home, and I’ll put all of this behind me.”

“Neither you nor I believe that, Carys. Not that you’re going to the train station on your own, or that you’re going to put this behind you. Let me help just a bit longer.”

I reach out for the bag again, and she shakes her head. Her chin sets in that mulish expression, and that spunkiness again reassures me. And if it weren’t the result of her trying to protect herself and guard herself, I’d find it sexy as fuck. But I don’t right now. I find it frustrating instead.

“Carys, I won’t argue with you. I won’t go around in circles. Just give me your bag and let me help you. I don’t get why you’re so opposed to it. We may not know each other, but it’s obvious I know your mom. It’s obvious she trusts me. It’s obvious she wants me to help, or at least is letting me help. So, I’m not some stranger danger. Let me get you to the train station, make sure you have everything you need, and then I’ll leave you alone. You never have to see me again. You never have to hear from me again. Let me do that much if for no other reason than you’re Meredith’s daughter. She’s been good to my family for nearly as long as I can remember.”

She stares at me uncertainly. That just gave her a million questions she’d love to ask about who her mom is to my family and how she became involved. It’s obvious now she serves as the Irish mob’s emergency physician. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, but I’m certain it’s only a few secondsuntil she relents. She reaches out and lets me take the bag from her.

We leave the room and the hotel in silence. More silence as we walk to the town car. More silence as we ride to the train station, bypassing the subway. The subway really was only a few blocks away, and we could’ve walked. But she looks in no condition to do much more than stand up and breathe, so I decided to bring her straight here. I take her inside, and I watch her scan her phone, so she does have a ticket. She’s going somewhere.

I watch the screen pop up, and it’s a train west to Pittsburgh, so at least that much is true, even if other stuff still doesn’t add up. I have her bag, and I walk her to the platform where the train is already waiting. I watch her board. I step back and head toward the end of the platform, but I don’t leave until the train is out of sight. I watch it the entire time to make sure she doesn’t slip off. But she’s gone now, and there’s nothing else I can do. At least for now, nothing directly with her. I head back to the car and let Tommy know to take me to Sean’s.

On the way, I look up her social media and scroll it a little more, but I’m finding nothing I didn’t already see last night when I trolled her. No. Troll implies I’m going to use this information against her and bully her. That’s not the goal. The goal is to be informed. Maybe I will wind up bullying her about something else—oh, like taking better care of her health—but I won’t use her social media against her.

I text my brother as I pull into the driveway to let him know I’m here. Before most of my generation started getting married, we had an open-door policy at all our homes. We came and went as we pleased, and we never worried about walking in on something intimate because none of us brought women home. Our places are our sanctuary, our reprieves from the outside world, and that includes the women we fuck. But now that Dillanand Finn and Sean and Seamus are all married, we no longer have that policy.

Only Cormac and I are the last bachelors standing, so I make sure my brother knows I’m here. I make sure I don’t walk in on anything I shouldn’t see. Lord knows I’ve come close even with a warning when I’ve arrived. It’s that way at all the married couple’s homes—my parents included.

“Sean?”

“Yeah, we’re in the kitchen.”

That means his wife, Nikki, is with him. That’s not a bad thing. I really like both of my sisters-in-law, but it means we’ll have to wait to discuss business.

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