Page 93 of The Best of Us

I backtracked and started from the beginning, managing not to lose my cool. “I don’t want to talk about that, though,” I said at the end of a lengthy monologue.

I’d talked more in the last twenty-four hours than in twenty-four years. I was shocked I hadn’t downed the entire bottle instead of only having a few drinks.

“Please,” I begged, sensing my sister wouldn’t be able to let this go. “Just not now.”

“Okay,” she said on a winded exhale. “Um. Well.”

“We did track down more information about Lennon and Jamie. Nothing enlightening, which is why we waited for you to call when you were free,” Hudson spoke up, clearly realizing Izzy wasn’t ready to talk. “Jamie is twenty-six. Has a few priors in Dublin, but nothing serious. Their mother is currently in rehab in Ireland, and their dad is in prison. Twenty more years left on his sentence.”

“Great, he’ll make an excellent father-in-law for my son.” Sarcasm didn’t suit me well.

“I can also confirm Dylan Kelly’s in the Caymans, and he is their uncle,” Hudson let me know. “I pulled his cell phone records, and while Dylan hasn’t checked in on his sister at all, he is in regular contact with their father. Which has me wondering if Daniel O’Brien never met his boss because his boss?—”

“Is in prison,” I finished for them.Shit.“It wouldn’t be the first time someone ran a criminal enterprise from behind bars.”

“But why run their business in New York and not Dublin?” Izzy asked the question on all of our minds. “Adds a whole other layer of complexity.”

“And a layer of protection,” I pointed out.

“True,” she acknowledged. “We’ve outsourced help to see if anyone in Ireland knows the real story about their father, Brian Cormac.”

I had to sit back down for this. “You’re going to tell me you put in a call to The League, aren’t you?” I dropped my forehead into my palm, my elbows going to my thighs. “The same organization now in bed with Carter Dominick at The Sapphire Hotel.” I was swiftly back into denial mode again.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that. Well, The League doesn’t own the hotel with Carter. Not technically, at least. Just Sebastian Renaud.” Izzy couldn’t shake the shock from her voice any better than I could get rid of my disdain for Carter, even if he didn’t deserve it from me.

My father had once been a member of The League’s Italian division before moving to the States. It was vigilantism on steroids. Given Carter’s background, it made sense for Carter and Sebastian to join forces.

It was all just becoming too much with my son and Juliette in the mix.

“I didn’t reach out to Sebastian,” she told me after a quiet moment, “but to Emilia and Sean McGregor instead. They’re back in Dublin again working from there, but it’s late in Ireland, so they’ll call me tomorrow when they have something.”

Emilia’s not in Italy anymore?That was news to me. Just last year, my brothers and I went to The League—specifically, the McGregors and Sebastian—for help dealing with a situation involving Alessandro’s wife, Callie. They’d pulled through for us, and that op in Rome had resulted in a shitstorm of life-changing events, including my worst enemy showing his face again, ultimately leading to my revenge.

I looked down at the scars on my arm, unsure why his death hadn’t healed the internal wounds he’d caused like I’d hoped getting justice would do.

It took me a minute to realize I’d never verbalized my question. “So, Emilia gave up her leadership role in Italy again? What is that now, the second or third time?” I forced a laugh, but it came out more like a groan of pain, and I had to rub my chest.

“Emilia and Sebastian are a pair, the both of them. In power. Then out again. Then back in again, but like, times ten. They can’t help themselves,” Izzy answered, her tone lighter that time. “Don’t tell me you’re not just like Emilia and wouldn’t step back in if you think things are being mismanaged.”

“Well, I’m sure whoever Emilia appointed to take over in her place loves her constantly stepping back in and micromanaging.”

“Ohhhh absolutely. Wouldn’t you?” she teased. “Mr. Type A Personality?”

I faked a laugh in mock offense. “The difference between Emilia and I is?—”

“You’d never turn the reins over in the first place and watch from the sidelines,” she correctly called it.

One of my many flaws, I supposed. “You didn’t mention Colin’s my son, right?”

“No, of course not,” she remarked, quickly shutting down my concerns. “But they have their finger on the pulse of criminal activity there, so it would have been irresponsible not to reach out. If anyone can help get us answers quickly, it’s them.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” I grumbled.

“She’s always right,” Hudson joked, followed by a soft, “oof” sound. That sarcastic comment probably earned him an elbow from my sister.

I stood, eyeing the door, curious how Juliette was doing. “What about my wallet theory? Anything?” I finally remembered to ask.

I had a feeling the “wallet” Colin was supposed to steal from the Sicilians was a hardware cyber device that held sensitive information, encrypted assets, or even millions in cryptocurrency. It was a hunch, but it was the only working theory I had to go on.

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