Page 32 of The Irish Redemption

My heart drops, and the responsibility of the Mob melts away. For a moment, we are just grieving siblings.

“I see him all the time,” I reply, fighting to keep my voice level. “He’s everywhere. His aftershave stains everything because he slept here more than in his own place. His plans are everywhere, his laughter is in the wind, his shadow is in the eyes of everyone who looks at me with expectation. Every time that door creaks…” I nod toward the office door. “I expect him to walk through. So… so no, I can’t sleep. Not while his body is still cold in that morgue and his murderer still roams the city.”

When Saoirse lifts her head, her eyes sparkle with unshed tears. “Can you promise me you’ll find who did it?”

“Yes,” I say firmly. “I won’t rest until I do.”

“You should rest,” she says, sniffling as she composes herself. “Or should I go find you another woman to entertain yourself with?”

Just like that, the emotional moment passes and she’s back to her regular self with that teasing curl of her upper lip.

“You think fucking will help me sleep?”

She shrugs. “I know what you did with that woman in the car.” She laughs softly. “And Cian said you passed out not long after she left, so sure. Should I call her?”

Something about my expression must betray my desire for such a thing because suddenly, Saoirse’s eyes narrow playfully. “You do, don’t you? You want to call her.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I do!” She rises from her seat and leans over the desk. “Don’t tell me you developed a crush on the witness.”

“I am thirty-two years old. I don’t crush.”

“Bullshit.” Saoirse laughs. “You like her.”

“I don’t.”

“Liar. It’s all over your face. Y’know, I suspected because I couldn’t remember the last time you showed interest in anything outside of work and then suddenly, you’re fucking her in the back of your car. I told Cian it was just stress relief. Fuck. I could’ve made fifty bucks off him.” She straightens up. “You should call her.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because in case you forgot, she wanted to leave?”

“And?” Saoirse clicks her tongue. “She had no problems spreading her legs for you. Maybe she just wanted the choice considering you did kidnap her.”

“With good reason.”

“I’m not questioning that.” She laughs. “Trust me, if snatching some hunk off the street is how I need to secure a man, then I’ll do it. But she left and didn’t go straight to the cops, right?”

“Right.”

“So maybe you should call her. Get your dick wet and sleep. Maybe it’s the grief talking and latching onto her because she’s outside of this mess, but if it will get you to rest, I don’t really care.”

“Is that any way to talk to your Captain?”

“I’m talking to my brother,” Saoirse corrects. “Or drink my shitty coffee. Either way, do something before you drop dead at your desk.”

While her tone remains light, I catch the flash of deeper worry in her eyes as she turns away. I shouldn’t give her cause to worry. I’ve been watching my siblings closely for any sign of them slipping, and it didn’t fully occur to me that they would be doing the same. As Saoirse leaves, I make sure she sees me picking up the coffee.

I’ll sleep later.

Unfortunately, returning to work proves impossible. My sister effectively knocked me out of my focus and now that my mind is wandering, all I can think about is Evelyn once more.

Saoirse was right about one thing. She would be perfect for relieving my stress. Unfortunately, she left. That was her choice, and I can’t bring myself to invade her space more than I already have—not unless I want to risk misreading signals and send her right into the arms of that cop.

Discarding the contract, I sip Saoirse’s terribly strong coffee and turn to my computer. In a few clicks, a map pops up with a glowing red dot showing Evelyn in her apartment. During her time here, I bugged her phone and every call, text, and voicemail that she’s received in the past few days is logged on my computer.

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