Which was way more terrifying than Pennywise.
"Savannah." There was a rumble to his tone, a warning, something that hit me in so many ways that I was hard pressed not to shiver.
There was little point in lying to him. Men like these had heard far worse stories than the one I was about to tell. I just had to pray that they weren’t involved with the Sparrows. I had to pray that my faith in Aidan wasn’t wasted, and considering I was still alive and that he hadn’t had me killed as promised, I didn’t think it was ridiculous to have faith in him.
"Have you heard about my exposé?" I whispered.
"Yes, my sister-in-law has apparently been keeping Eoghan well-informed on the situation."
I studied him, noticing that his cheeks were a little gaunter than before. The strain around his eyes deeper, the bridge of his nose had thicker creases, and he was markedly thinner than before, while still muscled. None of that took away from his appeal.
Those life lines, proof of his pain, were like a story that his features silently told the world. Stories were my jam. My lifeblood. So his not only filled me with questions, but made me concerned for him.
Aidan wasn't just one of New York City's most eligible bachelors. He was the heir to the O'Donnelly throne. An emperor in the making. At least, of the underworld.
With the salt and pepper flecks, his tangled dark waves made my palms itch with the need to tame them. Either that, or to make them a thousand times worse.
His bright green eyes were muted somehow, as if the feeling behind them was disconnected. Like he felt too much or as if he experienced it through a fog. His lips were thinner from the pressure he exerted on them too.
Considering his position, that didn't come as a shock, but still, it actually hurt to behold. How had the years we'd spent apart affected him? Changed him?
I knew who he was. I knew what he was.
That was how we'd met, after all.
When I'd tried to learn his family's dirty little secrets, and they'd sent him in to 'handle' me...
I had no rights to this man. Just as he had no rights to me. But that didn't take away that gnawing sensation inside me. Something told me—
"Savannah? Is your head still hurting from the fall? You really cracked it when you went down."
Oops. Apparently I had been lost to my contemplation of him for longer than I realized if he thought I was acting concussed. I didn't think his brothers would accept my drooling over their eldest sibling as a legitimate reason for hesitating over what I told him, either.
And 'cracked it' was an understatement. My chin felt like it had come up close and personal with Mike Tyson's fist.
"No. I'm fine. I promise," I assured him with a soft smile.
He dipped his chin, that sternness still there. A sternness I didn't remember. One that made something inside me squirm.
"Want to tell us what the hell's going on?"
I figured I owed them the truth. Plus, if Conor was allied with Star then that meant I'd been right to come to them. Surely they'd help keep me safe once they knew how important my work was?
God, I hoped so.
"I guess I need to start at the beginning."
"That would be helpful," Aidan confirmed, his tone deep.
His scowl made a reappearance a few seconds later. Reminding me to get a move on but also of how he'd yet to smile.
Aidan had been quick to laugh when I'd met him. A devilish twinkle in his eye at all times despite the reason behind our meeting.
What the hell was going on with him?
His mouth pursed.
Yes, I was looking.
Clearing my throat, I muttered, "You heard about what happened at TVGM?"
For the first time, I knew I sounded wary. He technically should know, but I had no way of measuring if he did or not.
Truth be told, the second I’d learned we had a casting couch at TVGM, the second I found out what the producers were doing, one bastard in particular—Derick Wintersen—I’d had to speak out.
My daddy, his reputation, who he was and our family status, had protected me. Dagger Daniels was American rock royalty. Whether I liked it or not, I was famous. As a kid, every part of mine and my siblings' childhoods had been documented in the press. That came with plenty of disadvantages, but many perks too.
Ironically enough, my dad had nothing to do with my getting a job on TV. That was down to a certain someone in this room.
Having been reared in a way I could only classify as traditional, especially considering O'Donnelly Sr.'s reputed obsession with the church, I half expected them to cast me disapproving looks for what I’d done. But the youngest, Eoghan, grunted, "That was bullshit. Why they fired you? No wonder they lost millions of viewers."
Yeah, TVGM, a morning show that aired nationally, hadn’t expected to lose a good chunk of its audience when they kicked me to the curb. Ha.
Though the loss hadn't earned me my job back, I was still pretty damn pleased that the American public had sided with my family, if not me, over the TV show.
"Yeah," Aidan rumbled, "you did good, Savannah."
My throat tightened at that, flooding with emotions I really didn't want to be feeling right now.
His praise sank into me though, like water into parched skin. Public reaction to what I’d done had been polarizing; that he supported me meant more than he could know.
"I’ve met Poliski, the network controller, and his cronies," Declan said, breaking into my thoughts. "That 'Help The Elders' gala last year in Tribeca? He was such an asshole.
"There was an auction, and they had women walking through the groups of tables holding the lots. If he could have super glued them to his side, he would have. Even so, his hands rarely left those poor women’s asses." His mouth tugged up in a snarl. "Kneed him in the nuts when I caught him trying to force himself on one of them in a restroom."
My brows rose.
Were the O’Donnelly brothers feminists?
I was pretty sure I’d not just fallen into a safe haven, but into a parallel universe.
I stared at them, feeling a little like the proverbial deer in headlights.
What was happening here?
"Oh, yeah? What were you doing in a quiet restroom, huh?" Finn jibed.
Declan smirked. "My waitress wanted to be with me."
"Remind me to tell Aela that when you don't listen to me," Conor chimed in, uncaring that his brother practically seared him in two with a stare worthy of a death ray.
"Carry on, Savannah," Aidan advised gruffly when I just carried on gaping at them. Both touched and amused by their rapport. "This is a tough crowd to keep focused."
His brothers grunted and huffed, but only one of them, Brennan—rumor had it that fine piece of man meat was off the shelf—snarked, "Like your focus ain’t shot, Aidan."
The others snickered, at what I had no idea, but Aidan's mouth just tightened a little more, before he gestured at me with his hand, indicating I should continue.
Shame.
These guys should consider starting their own reality TV show.
Manhattanite Mobsters... I knew I'd tune in.
"Ever since I got fired," I stated, before my brain could veer even further off course. "I’ve been trying to find ways to make a difference. I know it sounds hokey but it's true.