“Well then.” I rolled my eyes. “My brothers know I’d die for them, Star. Loyalty’s gotta be earned.”
“I haven’t earned yours.”
“You have.”
“Haven’t.”
“Have.”
“We gonna keep on arguing like this?”
“Yup. I got all day.”
“No, you don’t. I know you’re busy.”
“I am.” I always was.
“What are you working on?”
“You changing the subject?”
“Yup.”
“I’m extrapolating data.”
“From?”
“A bunch of police files.”
“Why?”
“Trying to figure out who someone is.”
“A murderer?”
“No. A rapist.”
“A rapist?” She hummed. “The fucker who’s terrorizing Harlem by any chance?”
“Yup.”
“Not that I don’t approve, but why?”
“Under orders. You know I have to ask how high when Da tells me to jump.”
“Why do you always obey?”
“Because it’s expensive not to.”
She heaved a sigh. “It’s not like money’s tight.”
“No. But I don’t really do it for him. I do as I’m told, but I know that my work keeps my dipshit siblings safe.”
“Thought they annoyed you,” she snarked.
“They can annoy the fuck out of me but I still want to protect them.”
That had been bred into me when I was a kid.
For a second, I saw my eldest brother, Aidan, slamming a candlestick into the head of the priest who’d been raping me, and I could literally feel the blood spatter against my skin as if it were yesterday.
It wasn’t yesterday.
It was years ago.
I was over it.
Just… some shit stuck with you.
“Why does your da want you to figure out who the Harlem rapist is?”
“Not a clue. Never know why he does the stuff he does. I can’t complain if it’ll take the fucker off the streets.”
“What are you doing to figure out his identity?”
“Finding commonalities—”
“Aren’t the cops doing that already?”
“Yeah, but they don’t have access to most of the shit we do,” I drawled.
“True. You pulling footage from all cameras in the area?”
“Yeah, and running through licenses and registrations of the cars in the vicinity. The bastard always acts after eight-thirty PM so I’m thinking that’s when he gets off work.”
“Interesting. Need help?”
“Not really. You’re busy enough with the kidnapping ring, ain’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess. I found where they’re stowing their current victims. I don’t know what to do.”
“Why not?”
“Do I tell the Valentinis or don’t I? Do I tell the cops? The Valentinis might barter with the information—”
“It might be good to have an in with the Sicilians,” I pointed out carefully.
“You already got an in. You’re allies!”
“Yeah, but you’d be on the front line. That’s even better.”
“Conor,” she said, practically purring my name. Fuck, that sound went straight to my dick. “Do you want me to play double agent?”
Eyes almost crossing at the images that inspired, I murmured, “I wouldn’t want to do anything that made you uncomfortable.”
She cackled, “Nothing makes me uncomfortable… where work is concerned.”
That rammed her earlier admission home even harder.
I made her uncomfortable, and it was sort of a good thing.
“Luciu Valentini’s boning the best friend of two of my sisters-in-law—”
“Jesus, talk about incestuous. Here was me thinking NYC was a big place.”
My lips curved. “Manhattan’s an island. Space poor.”
“People poor, apparently, as well.”
“Jen’s got her head screwed on right,” I discounted. “I don’t think she’d get tangled with the mafia if she didn’t think she was safe—”
“What does her safety have to do with anything?”
“I dunno. I just think that means maybe Luciu Valentini is trustworthy.”
“No one’s trustworthy.” She paused. “Apart from you. And Katina.”
I grinned. “I’m as trustworthy as a preteen. Got it.”
Her laugh made my fucking hands clench into fists. I wanted to taste that goddamn laugh.
“You know it.” She paused. “Thank you for telling me about Dagda.”
Shrugging, I said, “You deserved to know.”
The trouble with love was that it tore your loyalties in half.
Eamonn Keegan, the man known as Dagda, was my sister-in-law’s uncle. He was also the head of an Irish Republican faction, and, more importantly, he was Lodestar’s mother’s murderer.
When I’d uncovered Dagda’s ID, had it confirmed, I’d told Lodestar.
I owed my sister-in-law loyalty, but Lodestar… she was it for me.
It.
I.T.
“Star?”
“Yeah?”
“Is Dagda why you got into the CIA?”
“Never fuck with a woman scorned.”
My lips twisted. “I’ll make a note of that.”
She sighed but informed me, “I sent that sound bite out onto the dark web.”
I thought about what she’d stitched together; statements that were the truth, and all the more horrendous for it.
“She was a lying, filthy slag. Betrayed her people!”
“Is Elizabeth Davidson a part of the ECD?”
“YES!”
I rubbed my chin. “Any takers?”
“A few.”
“You know we just committed treason, don’t you?”
She snorted. “You only just figured that out? Anyway, my loyalty doesn’t belong to a First Lady who’s tied up with a bunch of terrorist scum.”
“Some people might think we’re terrorists,” I pointed out.
“We’re hacktivists.” She sniffed. “There’s a difference.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” A huff escaped her. “Okay, let me help with the rapist. Harlem’s his stomping ground for a reason. These dumbfucks like to shit in their own backyard. If you send me the traffic reports, I’ll work through those—”
“What about the kidnapping ring?”
“I’m still thinking about the best course of action.”
“The more you think about it, the more those poor bastards are kept away from their families—”
“If I make the wrong decision, they could become pawns for the Sicilian mafia, Conor,” she grumbled. “I want them free, but I don’t want them to become collateral damage either. When the fuck did everything become so complicated?”
I heaved a sigh. “Longer than we’ve been alive.”
The Sparrows, Irish Mob, Sicilian mafia, and even the goddamn ECD had been around a lot longer than either of us.