Page 61 of Bartered Innocence

A whine escapes Conor’s throat. “I didn’t know what he would do.”

My eyes squeeze shut. In the years since that loss, not once did I think it was caused by betrayal from one of our own. I stand, give Conor my back, and stare at the wall.

“Cormac will want a piece.”

I nod, agreeing with Cillian. We lost eight men from the Ottawa ambush, two of them close friends of Cormac. My stomach turns and my nose tingles, but I won’t shed a tear in front of this traitorous bastard. I only wish we would have found out faster, saved more of our men.

Turning back to Conor, his face is pale as his gaze bounces between all of us warily.

“How’d you communicate with Luca?”

Conor looks at the floor and my fists curl, wanting to torture him further for even hesitating to answer.

“The second Tuesday of the month. There’s a burner in the Frosties cereal box third from the back at the corner mart by my house. I usually grab it and use it in the bathroom, wait for the phone call.”

Aodhan punches him again. This time in the stomach and Conor coughs, struggling in the chair.

“Does the owner know?”

Conor takes a moment to gather his breath. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. I don’t know who put the phone there either.”

I glance at Cillian, who nods at me. “I’ll have Declan check it out.”

“Why? What did Luca promise you to turn traitor?” Aodhan grits out, his anger barely contained.

A shift in his eyes has me grasping his chin and staring down at his pathetic bleeding face. I sneer, pressing into his wounds as he lets out a pained cry.

“Not a promise, but a threat. What secrets does he hold of yours?”

Conor is panting, his ragged breaths coming in gulps. “My s-son.”

I exchange glances with Aodhan. As far as we know, Conor only has a daughter, so he speaks of an affair. Letting his head drop, I wipe my hand off and grab the cart from the wall. Tools clang against the metal, and the prominent smell of piss seeps from behind me.

“Please, Rian. I’m s-sorry,” Conor sobs through his snot and tears.

Cillian grips his hair, ripping his head back and spitting into his face. “Tell me why your bastard son is more important than the lives of the good men we lost. Men who had their own families, families robbed from them.”

“S-she would have left me.”

I roll my eyes. Of course his wife would have left him, especially if the proof of his cheating was tangible and could be shown off before everyone. “Open his shirt.”

Conor struggles as Cillian grabs the collar, ripping it straight down the middle.

Moving in front of Conor, I stare at him blankly. “You could have come to us, but you chose to be a coward. The brotherhood condemns you.”

The tip of my knife presses into his flesh right under his throat as I start carving our cross into his chest. He passes out before I’m halfway done, so I move back as Aodhan presses smellings salts to his nose, and he startles awake.

“Where’s Aisling?” I ask, tossing the knife onto the cart before I lose my hold on it due to the slick blood.

Cillian stiffens. “Why?”

I glance at him. “We need someone Luca has never seen or heard of.”

His jaw tics, protective of his twin. “Last check-in put her in Tokyo.”

Nodding, I unbutton my shirt and sigh, knowing he’s going to hate this. “Bring her home.”

Aodhan taps Cillian on the shoulder. “If anyone can bring Luca to his knees, it’s your crazy fucking sister.”

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