Page 16 of Trick's Trap

“No, I want to stay,” Maia protested, but she couldn’t stifle another yawn. The early stages of pregnancy zapped her strength the first time around, too.

Trick squeezed her hand, determination filling his chest. “Now that we know for sure Tahlia is alive, I promise we will find her. You can trust me on this one—I’m not going to let her go without a fight this time. But tonight, you can get some rest. We’ll go over our plan with you in the morning.”

“That’s a great idea,” Calen said, slapping him on the back before extracting Maia from his embrace. “You’re ready to pass out, babe. Let’s just go upstairs and I’ll run you a nice room-temperature bath.”

“Room temperature?” Peyton wrinkled her nose.

“You’re not supposed to have hot baths when pregnant,” Calen said, wrapping Maia’s coat around her shoulders.

“I don’t think she’s going to freeze on the way to your room. It’s just down the hall,” Liam pointed out.

“Shut up,” Calen said, flipping him off as he took advantage of his wife’s exhaustion to usher her out.

Fortunately for him, Jason coaxed Maggie and Peyton into following soon after. But Trick was too buzzed with excitement and concern to do the same.

“Was it her?” Liam asked. “You can tell the truth now.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not fucking lying, and I’m not imagining things. It was Tahlia. She’s lost weight, but it was her. I would never forget those eyes. And she recognized me, too.”

His brother continued to glower skeptically, but Jason wiped his chin and started to pace. “Okay, so what do we know? What was she wearing? Did you see anything that might identify her?”

Trick scratched his head. “The only thing I registered was her jacket. It was blue denim, and it didn’t seem heavy enough for this weather.” He closed his eyes, trying to picture every detail. “She was wearing a black skirt, and there was a blue backpack under her shoulder. That’s all I remember.”

Jason nodded, taking notes, but Liam was still frowning.

“So if it was Tahlia, I have a question. Why did she run away?”

Chapter 10

Tahlia gasped as she lowered herself into the corner cot of the dank basement room. The stitch in her side faded on the short train ride to Spanish Harlem, but her mad dash nearly wrecked her.

I am not in shape anymore. Always being hungry killed the will to exercise.

Tonight, she was lucky enough to have a room at a local women’s shelter there. That hadn’t been the case of late. Beds were in short supply at most of the shelters now that winter was here, but the woman at the catering company she’d been temping for made a call on her behalf. Gina wanted Tahlia to return to the Caislean in downtown Manhattan tomorrow for another event, so helping had been in her best interest.

Waitressing that wedding was supposed to be the highlight of Tahlia’s week. With her earnings, she was finally going to have enough money to for the buy-in at the Hammer room, the cheapest underground casino she’d found on her poker forum.

But how could she go back to the Caislean now?

Tahlia hadn’t believed she’d ever see Patrick again. At least not while she was awake.

She huffed an unwilling laugh, blinking back tears. Late at night when everything was quiet, she let herself think about him. In her imagination, the night they met ended very differently.

Tahlia had spun some serious fantasies about that man, but more than anything, she’d wished for a chance to go back and explain everything to Maia, her only close friend from school.

How in the world did those two know each other?

She almost collapsed from heart failure when she ran smack into Patrick. He’d used her real name, which was terrifying after months of living anonymously.

She assumed the worst—that somehow her uncle had gotten to him, that he’d been bought off. Afraid he was about to grab her, she’d bolted. Tahlia was halfway across the street when Maia started yelling.

Her impulse was to turn back, but the sports car that nearly clipped her forced her to move. When she was safely on the other side of the road, she’d seen Patrick go back and push Maia out of the road. Maia’s husband was there, too, as well as a few others who appeared familiar.

Unsure what to do, she ran for the nearest subway station.

She racked her brain, trying to remember all the people she met through Maia after her friend had gotten married. There had been a lot of new faces and names, but she didn’t think Maia had ever mentioned a Patrick. And they hadn’t met in person. Tahlia would have remembered him.

Maia was married to Calen McLachlan, the insanely rich son of an Irish mobster. Tahlia googled him to make sure he wasn’t involved in anything illegal before the wedding. As far as the public and police were concerned, Calen was a successful entrepreneur and investor, nothing more.

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