Page 28 of Captive Audience
“Remember that job I told you needed taking care of tomorrow?”
“Aye.”
“Make it happen in the next hour.”
“You got it.”
Aside from Torin, Aidan was the only person I could one hundred percent trust to get shite done, but I wasn’t about to wake the boss at this hour and ask him to commit a kidnapping.
I showered, dressed in a crisp charcoal shirt and freshly dry-cleaned suit, then paced the apartment like a caged lion while checking on Asha every five minutes. The sedative I’d mixed into her water should knock her out for at least six hours, but those drugs affected everyone differently, so I needed to be sure she didn’t wake before our guests arrived.
Twenty minutes later, the elevator doors opened, and Aidan dragged a confused Father Sheehan into my living room. The priest didn’t know us, but I’d done a little research and knew all about him.
“Take your hands off me! What is this?” He struggled to free himself from Aidan’s hold.
My cousin thrust him toward me. “Here you go. Fair warning. This gobshite complains more than a drunk without a pint.”
Fantastic.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and stared the priest down. Coffee stain on his plaid dressing gown, crumbs in his beard, and one slipper missing. Aidan must’ve plucked him straight from the breakfast table.
“Hello, Father Sheehan,” I said. “I’ll keep this brief. You’re here today to solemnize a marriage.”
Aidan spun to face me. “He is?”
I cast him a look that warned him to keep his mouth shut.
“Absolutely not.” Father Sheehan’s jowls shook as his head swung back and forth. “You can’t kidnap a member of the clergy and make demands of them. This is preposterous!”
I advanced on him slowly. “Look around you, Father. Now look at my cousin and me and ask yourself if we’re the kind of men you should say no to.”
His nostrils flared. “I don’t care what kind of men you are.”
My already frayed patience was waning. “Since this is my wedding day and I’m in a charitable mood, this is how things are gonna go. You’ll perform the marriage in the next ten minutes, and maybe I won’t email your entire congregation this video of you in an adult diaper, crawling around a room on a leash while getting whipped by…what was the name of the dominatrix?”
“Madame Havoc,” Aidan said.
“Ah, yes. Madame Havoc.” I held my phone up toward Father Sheehan while the damning footage played. “She has quite the collection of uncomfortable-looking anal toys. Which you know, of course, since you’re intimately familiar with so many of them.”
The priest blinked, opened his mouth for a second, then slammed it shut again. In a far more pleasant tone, he said, “Where would you like the wedding to happen?”
“Wait here.” I went to collect Asha, and Aidan followed.
“Rook, what the hell is going on?” His footsteps thudded on the marble tiles close behind me.
“Even you’re smart enough to figure that out for yourself.”
“You’re getting married? Why?”
We rounded the corner and entered my room.
“It’s a means to an end.”
“You’re talking in riddles.” He froze when he spotted a lightly snoring Asha with the covers pulled up to her waist and a pillow held tight to her chest. “Jesus, fuck.” He dragged his hands through his hair and sucked on his lip ring. “Who’s that?”
“The woman who’s going to help us find the Soul Collector.”
She was soft in sleep, trusting. Fuck. I didn’t deserve that trust, but I needed her. Just one more thing I’d take and twist in the name of vengeance.
