Page 90 of Mob Bride

“I’d like to see that warrant.” I’m commanding without sounding like a dick.

A second agent walks around the one in front who announced their arrival. He holds up the warrant. There’s not a chance in hell I’m approaching them. I’m not getting within arm’s reach of two dozen federal agents. I stick out my hand and wait. I know he’ll eventually come to me. He will figure he’s safewith just two of us. I count to three in my head before he takes the first step toward us.

Foolish man. None of them are safe with only two of us. Not having our own guns on us isn’t an impediment. We’ll take some of theirs. We might not get all of them before we go down in a blaze of glory, but we’d take some. I accept the papers he hands me. I skim them before handing them to Cormac.

“Mr. O’Rourke, you need to come with us.” That’s the smug arse first agent. Cormac speaks up, and so it really begins.

“Why should I go anywhere with you?”

The lead agent shoots Cormac an expression that tells both of us he’s not amused. Cormac cocks an eyebrow. I don’t need to look at my cousin to know that’s his reaction because it’s the same one I have. I see the disconcerted look on several people’s faces.

While Cormac and I aren’t identical, the familial relationship is clear. His hair is lighter than mine, and he and Seamus have the baby faces in the family. He’s also got twenty pounds on me. It’s lean muscle that hasn’t stopped me knocking him on his arse plenty of times.

However, our mannerisms are so similar it’s uncanny to most people. Even though Finn and the other guys aren’t my twin—only Sean is—we are such mirror images in absolutely everything, people merely stare. Unfortunately, these agents recover faster from the obvious similarities between Cormac and me.

“Shane O’Rourke, you will come with us.”

The agent tries again. Once more, Cormac speaks.

“And who are you?”

It’s clear this guy doesn’t appreciate Cormac meddling.

“I’m a DEA agent.”

“Then let us see your badge. Just because you have a nice jacket on doesn’t mean you’re who you claim.”

The chatty agent looks at the one still standing near us. Smart guy. He doesn’t want to get any closer. He nods to numbnuts, who’s now even closer than just arm’s reach. The guy’s slow but removes his badge and flips it open for us to see.

“Okay, that’s one of you. But how about the rest of you?”

Cormac and I watch as many of them reach into their pockets. Whichever pocket they withdraw the badge from tells me they don’t have a second weapon there. If we have to, that’s the side we strike on. One of many tips of the trade our family trained us to notice.

I see various badges flash before us. None open them long enough for us to tell any details.

“Mr. O’Rourke, I would not continue to waste our time.”

He gestures for the agents to move forward, many coming in with bankers boxes. They want to make a show of it by leaving with them filled to the brim with evidence they confiscate. Unless they want to take the few tchotchkes I have, they won’t find much of interest. When one of them goes for the family portraits on my wall, I stop him.

“Don’t touch without gloves on. I’ll lift them off the wall. You can see what’s behind them. You can see inside the frames. But I don’t want your sticky fingerprints all over my family photos.”

The guy looks like he intends to ignore me, but I clear my throat. That’s enough to make another agent whisper to him. He drops his arms and reaches into the pocket that didn’t have his badge and pulls out a pair of rubber gloves. That tells me it’s unlikely he’s carrying a second weapon in there since he wouldn’t want to fumble around the gloves to grab it.

It’s not that I expect federal agents to carry knives, but you never know. We always work on the assumption it’s possible. They won’t fit a second gun in their trouser pockets. However, we expect most of them have a second weapon strapped to theirankle. So far, they haven’t drawn them, but we’re as prepared as we can be.

I watch the agent lift off the picture frame, look behind it, and shake it. The glass rattles a little, but nothing alarming. He does the same thing for each of them, satisfied there’s nothing hidden behind them.

The agent who started all of this withdraws handcuffs and approaches Cormac and me.

“Mr. O’Rourke, you have the right to remain silent.”

Cormac steps in front of me.

“You still haven’t told us on what grounds you’re here. My client isn’t leaving this house without you showing a warrant for his arrest. The one you handed my client only states you have authority to search the premises. It says nothing about arresting my client.”

Cormac was mistaken, or they didn’t show us, but neither he nor I saw anything about arresting Carrie.

“Your client?”

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