Page 106 of Mob Bride

That’s laughable considering how they found us asleep, curled up together. I never once went anywhere near Bartlomiej when I slept in the same bed with him. Anytime he tried to make us cuddle, I’d claim I was too hot and roll away. I’ve never been more comfortable than sleeping beside Shane.

I nearly forget Angela’s speaking.

“We know how men like him are. So do you. You were just embedded with a syndicate, and you dated their leader.”

She knows how much I loathe it when anyone outside of the Poles refers to the assignment as me dating Bartlomiej. She’s trying to wind me up, but I won’t let her know it affects me. I’m positive she knows Shane is nothing like Bartlomiej.

We’re all familiar with the various crime family members’ dossiers. I might not have known Shane before meeting him, but I was aware of him. I’m certain he does the same things Bartlomiej does, but in no way does Shane come across anything like Bartlomiej.

I’m not the first agent embedded in a syndicate. Many undercover agents wind up quitting the assignment early on out of fear. Some stay even longer than I did and find it’s far healthier for them to report very little. There’re plenty of people throughout the agency’s history who haven’t fallen prey to the syndicates and have provided information that’s brought families down.

But the Four Families who run New York now are far more subtle and far wiser than their predecessors. Consequently, it’s been a long ass time since any of the federal agencies havescraped together enough evidence to make an arrest, let alone any convictions.

I listen to Angela and Steve continue to grasp at straws, but I don’t engage. I look out the window as we head to the DEA building on 10thAve in Manhattan. At least they haven’t taken me to Central Booking to hand me over to the police to be locked up for the rest of the night.

I noticed Shane sleeps with his watch on, and as he wrapped the comforter around me, he pressed a button on the side. My guess is that’s a tracker. I noticed Sean has a matching one he wore. They’re identical right down to their taste in accessories. The only thing different between them was Sean had on his wedding ring. I’m certain it won’t go over well if anybody tries to take that from him.

If both watches have trackers, then Shane and Sean both activated them. Their family will know what’s going on, and they’ll grasp the severity of the situation when both trackers ping them traveling to the same place.

When we arrive at the DEA building, Steve pulls into the underground garage. That’s not always how we—they—do things. I’m not one of them anymore.Theyonly pull into this garage whenthey’retransporting suspects or convicted criminalstheywant nobody to see. I suppose I fall under the category of suspect for right now. If things go to trial, there’s a good chance I’ll soon be labeled a felon.

Chapter Twenty-One

Shane

I’ve been arrested before.

I doubt Carrie has, and that makes me more anxious than anything these fuck faces can do to me. I pray having been on the other side of this, Carrie remembers all the things that annoyed her as a law enforcement officer with recalcitrant suspects or witnesses and employs every one of them now. I don’t doubt she intends to remain silent, but I know they trained her to wheedle info out of people. I don’t want her to fall victim to the same tactics.

The two up front keep droning on about how my cooperation will make things go faster. That it’ll be better for Carrie and my family if I answer their questions. Not a flying fucking chance on the hottest day in hell.

My family’s trained me for these situations since I was five. Never talk to strangers. Never talk to anyone who shows me something shiny. Never talk to anyone who asks about my parents, grandfather, or aunts and uncles. Now Grandda isn’t an issue, but my brothers and cousins are a concern. The rules remain the same.

The car I’m in pulls abreast of Carrie’s. They’re making sure we see each other. They want guilt to push either or both of us to confess. From Carrie’s expression, I know it’s done the opposite. It strengthens her resolve. Her lips don’t move even when I see Angela twist to look back at her. Carrie just looks ahead.

“You’re going to bring down an agent who was well on her way to a supervisory position. You’re ruining her career.”

It’s the driver who states the obvious. Where was he weeks ago when all of this started? Not that it would’ve changed anything, but he wouldn’t be spelling it out like I’m an idiot. There’s no going back from this. Whether Carrie and I are together is moot. Her career is done.

It means she’ll need protection for the rest of her life, regardless of her relationship with me. If the feds have come after her once, they’ll keep coming back. I could never see her again, and they’d still believe there’s information she could share. If nothing else, they’ll want to keep punishing her.

Cormac, Seamus, and Dillan are waiting for us when we pull into the underground parking structure. The agents aren’t gentle with Sean and me, but Angela’s more careful with Carrie. That’s until Cormac goes to her side, Dillan comes to mine, and Seamus goes to Sean.

“All of you, move out of the way.” The guy who drove the car I was in tries to muscle past Dillan.

“We’re not in the way.” Dillan goads them by opening the door and holding it until everyone walks through.

“You can’t intimidate us.” Steve doesn’t sound as confident as he wants.

My cousins merely smile. It’s disconcerting as fuck if you aren’t used to it. When the agents look at Sean and me, it really throws them for a loop. We cock opposite eyebrows—a trick we trained ourselves to do when we were eight. I raise my right one when he raises his left. When we stand in front of each other anddo it, we’re mirror images. When we stand side-by-side, like we are now, it makes our faces blend even more.

I “accidentally” step on the guy’s foot who rode in the passenger seat of my car. I move myself as though I try to make more space on the elevator for everyone else. Instead, I position myself, so I’m standing behind Carrie. As people shuffle on, she steps back. Her shoulders bump against my chest.

We’re not in handcuffs, so we brush our hands against each other’s. I link our pinkies, and she curls hers around mine. I sweep my gaze around the elevator, looking where the walls meet the ceiling, then across the ceiling.

“An gceapann tú go bhfuil sé glan?” Do you think it’s clean?

I want to know if the others spotted any cameras in here. Seamus responds first.

---