Page 58 of Illicit Heir

An hour passes during my drive and my phone rings. I glance at it and debate whether to answer it. On the fourth ring, I face the music and finally pick up.

Brody demands, "Where are ya going, Devin?"

"Out. I need to clear my head," I lie.

He seethes, "Why are ya headed south?"

"I'm just going for a drive."

"Get back here, now."

"I'll be back when my head's clear," I state, then hang up and turn off my phone.

I don't know what my punishment will be this time if Brody finds out I went back to The Confessional. He promised it would be worse than the sewers, but I'll risk the consequences.

All I've done for the last month is wait for reports from Samuel. From time to time, I've made him send me pictures. I can only imagine what he's thinking about why I need him to report to me about Lauren. Still, I don't care. So far, he's stayed true to his word and not let it slip to anyone about my little job.

And I wish I knew what it was about Lauren that's made me so obsessed with her, but I never can figure it out.

She's the total package.

She's not.

I veer to the left and continue the debate.

Maybe it's because I know I can't have her again.

Yes, that has to be it. I want her because I'm not supposed to have her.

There's nothing special about this woman. She's just another lass, another barmaid, another willing woman who spread her legs for me.

That's a lie. Everything about her is special.

The petrol light dings and flashes. I groan, change directions toward the motorway, and exit when I see a sign for a station.

I reach behind the seat, grab a baseball cap off the floor, and put it on. Then I pull into the lot, fill the tank, and don't make eye contact with the bloke pumping petrol across from me.

When I get back into the car, I tell myself I really should turn back, but I don't. The closer I get to Coolock, the more my pulse races. I rack my brain about how to play this out, still unsure what I'm going to do once I get there.

It's close to midnight when I finally get to town. I park on the street where I can see the pub, staying in my car. I turn on my phone, knowing my brother will know exactly where I am.

Me: What happened in the kitchen?

Samuel: Not sure. I went in and acted like I needed to talk to the cook, but Caleb ordered, "Get the fuck out."

It isn't rational for me to be angry with Samuel. Of course Caleb wouldn't let him witness his interaction with Lauren.

But I am angry. I want information and expect to get it, even if it's impossible.

Me: You need to step up your game.

I turn my phone off and sit back in the seat, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel.

I keep my eyes on the pub. Caleb and his brothers finally stumble outside, drunk and singing with their arms around each other. A car pulls up, and they get in.

I'm tempted to get out of my vehicle, but I wait, confident more people are inside. Over the next half hour, more patrons leave. It's another hour until Lauren's cousins step outside with the security guard and the lights turn off.

My heart thumps against my chest. I force myself to wait a little longer, then finally get out of my car. I stay in the shadows and creep into the alley. I take a deep breath and ring the bell.

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