I’d almost been killed!
That I needed the reminder was very concerning.
I cleared my throat and asked, "Before you guys get into this even further, ya know, who works more and shit like that—" Brennan arched a brow at me but I just smirked back. "—will you guys help me? I’ve barely started with the exposés, and I have dozens more articles to write."
"Who’s your source?" Finn asked. "Where are you getting all this information from? I read the one you released today—it was in-depth stuff. You needed help with it."
Conor grunted. "Ain’t that obvious? Lodestar, of course."
I wasn’t about to agree or disagree. Star was my source, but she had one of her own we both wanted to protect.
Deciding it was wise to change the subject, I informed them, "Yesterday, my phone started blowing up. If this Valentini is after me—"
"He isn’t," Brennan said immediately.
I scowled. "Then why did you bring them up?"
"Because the fucker who tried to knife you had been injured by him. That sound like the work of a friend or foe?"
I pulled a face because apparently my brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. "Huh."
"Yeah. You and whoever did that to him are on the same side." Brennan shot Aidan a look. "You willing to vouch for her with Da?"
Aidan firmed his mouth. "Yes."
He straightened up, getting to his feet, but the second he did, his eyes fluttered closed, his nostrils flared while his jaw tensed. His skin blanched, and every part of him tensed up.
I watched the transformation and hurt for him. Hurt on his behalf.
My gaze dropped down the lean length of his form and found the brace around his knee.
Biting my bottom lip, I fought the urge to do something, to flutter around him, to help him take the pain away when there was nothing any of us could do to stop that.
Though he sucked up all my attention, I had to see what his brothers’ reactions were, and as one, I saw they felt his pain too. They hated it and sympathized.
Though not a brother, Finn’s regret was the deepest. I got it, even though it wasn’t exactly his fault. Everyone knew his wife had been knocked down in that same drive-by on their wedding day of all days.
A sharp exhalation escaped Aidan as he opened his eyes and rasped, "We’re working against the Sparrows too, Savannah. Mutual enemies mean you’ve befriended the Five Points, I hope you’re ready for what that means."
And with that cryptic comment, he limped off, leaving me on the sofa, with his brothers.
Mobsters.
On any other day, I’d think that I’d died and gone to heaven.
Today?
I just wanted to head after him and do something, anything, to make him feel better.
That, I’d recognize later, was the moment I should have known everything changed…
Eight
Aidan
The pain was excruciating, radiating up and down my leg, almost hitting my hip, making every part of my lower body throb.
What was worse?
The need for relief.
I wanted an Oxy like a thirsty man needed water.
I wanted the escape.
I wanted the blurred lines—shit, I didn’t just want it. I fucking needed it.
No one should have to live with this.
No fucking one.
I snapped the second I entered the bedroom Conor had given me, slamming my hand into the wall, uncaring that the drywall crumbled, uncaring that it added to what I was already feeling.
The rage was new.
Normally, I just popped a pill. Swallowed relief, taking comfort in the chemicals that fucked with my system. But I couldn’t do that anymore.
I couldn’t.
I’d had the taste of heroin once. I knew why we were wealthy now. I knew how we were filthy fucking rich because one dose of that wicked tincture, and that was it. You had the taste. It wouldn’t leave you. It was with you forever. Haunting you.
Chasing after you, relentlessly. Endlessly. Worse than the pain. Because that triggered more of it, just of a different nature, while you carried on hunting that first high. Nothing, and I mean, nothing, was ever as pure as that original hit.
I’d been clean for forty-one days, and each of those was hard won. The pain, right now, felt all the more acute because Savannah was here.
I remembered the last time we were together. I’d been whole. Normal in myself. Tonight? I felt like I was missing a limb. I felt weak. Hobbling around while she sat there, like a goddamn angel sent to torment me, to remind me of what I’d lost.
I snarled under my breath as a small wave of crumbling plaster fell from the wall, decorating the black marble floor with dust.
As I twisted around, hobbling away from the door, a knock sounded.
My breath froze in my chest, because I knew if that was one of my brothers, they wouldn’t have knocked.
That meant it was Savannah.
Savannah who was more trouble than she was worth.
Savannah who, even bloodied, bruised, was never down for long, and who looked like sin sitting on Conor’s sofa. A sofa that had housed me and my blanket fort. That had seen me sweat into the leather, shuddering and jittering with tremors as I detoxed.
Why did she have to handle my brothers so well?
She’d sat there, somehow regal even though they were acting out. Brennan being a douche, his usual self when he was in front of people, when he wanted to act the big, bad O’Donnelly Fixer. Conor smiling at her, saying he even fucking liked her. I knew why too. She hadn’t doled out any BS to us. He liked the truth. So did I.
What I also knew? From watching her every goddamn morning on TVGM?
She wasn’t always so truthful.
She was, in fact, a liar.
The ditzy airhead she showed the world was a façade. I’d met the shark. I knew what went on behind those pretty brown eyes, and her analytical mind was hot as fuck.
"Aidan?" she called out softly.
I gritted my teeth. "Come in." Would she call my name like that if we were fucking?
Nobody said my name like her.
I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like she had an accent or anything. But she said it differently, and it made my ear drums shudder with delight.
I sucked in a breath, my mind veering away from the pain for a second as she opened the door.
In a pair of sweats and a tee, both of them dirty, with her looking disheveled after her escapades tonight, she had no right to be so beautiful.
No fucking right.
Still, the memory of her being attacked had a tic twitching in my jaw. I’d seen the state of her apartment after Baggy and Forrest had come and helped retrieve the SOB who thought he could hurt Savannah.
"I’m proud of you for tonight."
She blinked. "For defending myself?"
Her squirming had me arching a brow at her. "What is it?"
A huff escaped her lips. "Nothing. It’s nothing."
I smiled a little. "What is it, Savannah?" I repeated, my tone just a touch sterner.
I’d noticed that about her before. She was hard to pin down sometimes, but with a little authority, she usually caved in.
Her nose crinkled. "I’m a modern woman."
"I know you are." Had I said she wasn’t?