Page 89 of Mob Bride

“Shane, that’s the least of my worries. I doubt I can concentrate on anything I read right now. Just be careful. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for me.”

“That’s not true, and you know it. I could just as easily be their target. They could just as easily raid me, regardless of my relationship with you.”

“Maybe so, but it’s happening right now because of me. I’m so sorry.

“Donotblame yourself for any of this, Carys. You didn’t ask for any of this to happen.”

My tone is adamant, and I see her withdrawal when I use her full name. I didn’t realize I had. I just wanted to make her understand how serious I am that I don’t blame her for any of this.

“Carrie.” I cup her cheek and give her a soft, lingering kiss. “Nothing changes just because of this minor inconvenience.”

She nods.

“In the grand scheme of things in this world, having your house searched is hardly more than a brief blip on the radar. None of us keep incriminating things at our homes. We lock away the few things that could cause a snafu in places no one will find.”

I gesture around the room.

“I’m not overly concerned. They’ll be the ones who leave frustrated not me. There’re bound to be some reporters who show up, and they’ll see the agents leaving empty-handed. It’ll make the news sympathetic to us. Dillan’s wife will make sure of it.”

When her brow creases, I glance toward the door.

“One of these days, I’ll fill you in on all the women in this family. But Dillan’s wife is an investigative reporter for the major newspaper here in the city. She often works with me on our PR.”

I shoot her a pointed look again, and we leave it at that. Another kiss that threatens to delay me heats between us. But I’m pulling away all too soon, then explaining the code to lock the door.

After that, I’m bolting up the stairs to the kitchen where Cormac’s running the water. He’s just turning on the dishwasher as I walk in.

“I didn’t strip the guest bed, but I made it. I wasn’t sure if she’d been in your bedroom, so I took care of the surfaces in there, too.”

I shake my head. “No, she’s been in the living room, the kitchen, and that bedroom. But thanks. I appreciate you covering everything. Did you do the banister?”

“Yeah. I figured from how you pulled her down the hallway, she probably held on for dear life. I’ll do the basement banister right now.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll flush the paper towels.”

“Perfect.”

Normally, we prefer burning things than any other disposal. However, a pile of ash right now on my stove or in a trash bin would look rather suspicious.

Suspicious.

That’s laughable. It’s certainly an understatement.

Cormac hurries out of the kitchen, not bothering to dry his hands. He’s back just as I check my office for anything I might not have thought could be incriminating. My laptop remains in the safe, which is in another little nook in my home.

You’d never guess where to look if you didn’t know. I’m certain they’ll search for a safe, but they won’t find it. The half-bath toilet just went quiet as there’s a bang on the door, a garbled voice, and it bursts open. Neither Cormac nor I hurryto stand from where we ran to sit on the sofa in front of the TV that’s still on from before Carrie fell asleep.

“Shane O’Rourke, we have a warrant to search your premises.”

Now Cormac and I stand. We turn toward the swarm of agents in their khaki pants, polo shirts, and windbreakers. They’re interchangeable.

If people thought it’s difficult to discern one O’Rourke from another, we’ve got nothing on these suits. Well, they’re not in suits, but that’s how we think of feds. It’s one of the nicer names we have for them.

Cormac and I hold our hands out to our sides just a few inches from our hips to show we’re not reaching for any weapons. He had a weapon when he came in, but he doesn’t now. I spotted it in my safe along with several others I had scattered around the house. He rounded all of those up, too. I’ll thank him for his efficiency later, but these are skills drilled into us from a young age.

Once our parents believed we were old enough to handle firearms safely, they showed us where they hid all of them in our various family homes, and they showed us how to open the safes. I only remember two raids at my house, three at my grandfather’s, and four at Uncle Donovan’s. There were ones before I was born, but Finn was too young to remember anything. Clearly, nothing ever came of them since no one’s in prison.

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