Page 52 of Finding Home with You

But she’s dead serious and ready to settle in and watch the whole damn movie as she hops up from the couch and returns with a few beers and a bag of potato chips.

When Ryan finally walks in, Sarah and I have eaten an extra large pizza and have drunk at least six beers apiece. Needless to say, we’re drunk and carrying on about the realism that Sarah seems to think doesn’t really exist in regards to the mob and the way they live their lives.

“Listen, listen, Sarah,” I say, my words slurring as I pat my hand on Sarah’s thigh. “These people didn’t do it right. They needed to keep a low profile, like buy a smaller house, live in the suburbs, stay off the drugs. Get into construction or antique furniture…Casinos were too much. Just put some air triggers on the stairs and sleep with a gun under your pillow…” I stop short of selling myself out when Ryan appears in front of me. His hands on his hips and his eyes trained on me.

“A little drunk, are you?” he says, and Sarah and I both burst out laughing.

Chapter Nineteen

Ryan

As I stare down at Erin and my sister laughing their drunken asses off, I can’t help but be relieved. Relieved that she’s obviously had a good time today and relieved that some of the fear and frustration she’s been feeling at everything that’s going on with her family and all the things I’m not telling her has finally disappeared for a bit.

And as much as I know she was dangerously close to outing her family’s mob connections just now, I actually don’t care if she does. Back at breakfast when the questions about her family had come up, I could sense the hesitation in Erin. I knew she was reluctant to share too many details and even though I hadn’t offered any up either, it wasn’t because I was trying to hide this part of her. I know my family won’t judge her for it and honestly, none of it is her fault anyway. It was more a case of me wanting to protect her; let her tell her story in her own time and in her own way.

“Don’t be mad, baby,” Erin says, crawling toward me.

I can’t resist grinning as I look down at her. “How can I be mad, Red, especially when you’re on your knees in front of me like this.”

Erin smirks at my words, her eyes half closed because she’s drunk, but somehow still managing to look extremely sexy. “You have something in mind, detective?” she asks, inching closer to me as her hands go to my hips.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake you two,” Sarah half shouts. “You do realize I’m right here, don’t you?”

My smile widens. “Come on, babe,” I say, pulling Erin up. “I think you need to come with me.”

Erin laughs as she falls against me, my arms wrapping around her waist as I half carry her out of the room.

“Hey, not fair!” Sarah shouts. “I wanna hang out with her.”

“Sorry, sis,” I say as I pick Erin up and throw her over my shoulder. “You’ve had all day with her, now it’s my turn.”

“Fuck you, Ryan” she says, throwing a pillow at us. “Thanks for stealing her away, dick.”

Erin laughs again, slapping me on the ass as I turn and walk us out of the living room and up the stairs to my old bedroom. As we walk in, I kick the door shut with my heel, walking straight to the bed where I gently lower Erin.

“So,” she says, smiling as she looks up at me. “Now you’ve brought me up here, detective, what are you going to do with me?”

I grin down at her as I kick off my shoes before pulling my sweater over my head. Throwing it on the floor, I lean down, hands on either side of her head and say, “I think we might need to work on sobering you up, Red.”

“Yeah,” she whispers, leaning up to kiss me. “And how are you going to do that?”

“Oh,” I say, pressing a hard kiss to the side of her neck. “I have a couple of ideas.”

An hour or so later, Erin is fast sleep beside me, our sweaty bodies still entwined as my fingers run up and down her spine, her soft breaths brushing against my chest.

I’m glad she hasn’t asked me about how today went, although given the state she was in when I got home, I’m not sure if she even remembered what I was doing anyway.

It hadn’t exactly gone well; the little shit I went to speak to claimed to know absolutely nothing about Macklin despite his well-known mob connections. The guy used to run with Fitzgerald’s crew years ago, before eventually being busted for drugs, so it makes no sense that he wouldn’t at least know something about the chain of command. He’s also well known as one of the biggest snitches around, so the fact he’s keeping his mouth shut either means he legit doesn’t know anything or worse still, he’s scared shitless.

It doesn’t make sense. He’s ratted on so many people over the years, he’s lucky he’s still alive. As it stands, he’s been shanked a half a dozen times already and it wouldn’t surprise me if he gets a couple more before someone eventually succeeds. God knows if one of Fitzgerald’s men won’t do something to him after today.

Fuck, I just wish I knew where the hell Anthony Macklin was. It makes me pissed as shit knowing he’s out there somewhere and we have absolutely no idea where. How the hell am I supposed to protect Erin when I can’t find him, when I don’t even live in the same zip code as her.

I’m not even sure what the next move is. Short of going back to see Fitzgerald, pleading with him to actually give a fuck about his daughter and her safety, we are fresh out of options.

“Ryan!”

The sound of my name, brings me back to the here and now, my sister’s voice echoing up the stairs. Erin stirs in my arms, not quite waking up, despite the pounding that now sounds against my bedroom door.

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