“Look. If there’s someone dirty on my team…”
Dace interrupted C.T., knowing exactly where his head was going with this. “If someone’s dirty, they’ll be back later looking for that cell phone. I’m already a step ahead of you. Someone comes snooping around, and we’ll have a team on them before they make it to the dumpster.”
C.T. nodded. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“We’ve spent years taking down the cartel, and they just breed like bunnies. One cell falls, three more come to life,” Declan added. “They don’t typically leave shit behind. They have guys for that. Cleaners.”
The men all nodded in agreement until Dace added, “Unless they wanted us to find it, or me rather?”
“Let’s not put all our eggs in one basket,” Declan continued as the rest of the team they brought started to head for their vehicles, evidence in hand, scene clean. “We don’t know what happened here. Let’s stop assuming and find some answers.”
Dace slid the broken phone into a clear evidence bag and handed it to his brother, then reached for his own device as it buzzed, alerting him that he had a message. “Gotta go. Ivy’s out of surgery.”
C.T. patted his back as he headed to his own vehicle. “C’mon. I’ll drive ya.”
“Let’s see if we can get those answers you mention, brother,” Dace said as he jogged the short distance to the waiting unmarked vehicle C.T. was already climbing into.
CHAPTER 5
Sitting at the foot of her bed, Dace stared at Ivy, willing her awake as he had for the past forty-eight hours. Her condition hadn’t changed other than the shades of purple and blue that covered her body as it tried to heal. She was in what might as well be called a medically induced coma after waking up from surgery in a complete and inconsolable panic.
Ivy was so frightened, waking up in a strange place, in pain, and still under the effects of the anesthesia, that it was a full-blown rage. She’d hurt herself trying to run, taking another blow to the head upon falling, so it wasn’t safe for her to be awake.
A fever set in shortly after, so the doctors were carefully monitoring her under heavy sedation to give her body a chance to heal. And Dace was willing her to heal. He sat vigil, sometimes in prayer even, hoping it was enough. She’d found her way back to him, and he wasn’t letting go again.
Mendoza stayed on as a part of her team, but mostly as a liaison because Dace didn’t trust anyone and didn’t care who he pissed off. He guarded her with his life, and that required mediation from a trusted friend. C.T. checked in, more than once, eager to ask questions, but careful not to rile the protective nature Dace possessed and made known.
“Boyo,” a soft, familiar voice in Irish brogue said behind him.
He didn’t even have to turn around. “Hey, Ma.”
“How’s our girl?” she asked, an emotional break in her voice. “She looks better, aye?”
Dace reached for the gentle hand that landed on his shoulder. “I don’t know, Ma. All I see is—”
His mother cut him off before he could finish. “Now, you stop with that. Tell me you see what I see? Really look, boy.”
Colleen O’Reilly was sweet as sugar and tough as nails. Known to be nurturing and caring, she was known just as much for her no-bullshit, piss-and-vinegar attitude. She was a force in all things, the pillar of their large family, and the one you didn’t cross…she was the most feared O’Reilly. Ivy had been a very present part of their family until she wasn’t. Her disappearance was hard on all of them, including Colleen, who would as fiercely protect the girl – who she claimed as her own – as much or more than her sons would.
Dace sat in silence, letting his mother’s presence and subliminal, albeit mild, ass chewing settle in. “You’re right, Ma. She is sleeping sounder. I think the swelling has lessened.”
“There you go, my boy. See the good, not the bad. Those marks and scars can be deceiving. They’ll fade with time.” Colleen set her bag down on a nearby chair and moved to the side of Ivy’s bed. Reaching for her hand, she patted it once in her grip. “She’s always been a tough one, this girl.” She cocked a brow at her son. “Had to be to handle the likes of you.”
It wasn’t lost on him what his mother was trying to instill in him. Scars fade. A reminder that learning the truth might sting, but the scars would ultimately begin to fade with forgiveness. Despite the pain the truth might harness, he’d work through it. There wasn’t a single thing Ivy could say that would have him any less invested in fixing whatever was broken between them. He wouldn’t have spent years of his life searching for her if he wasn’t.
“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a compliment or an insult.” For the first time in days, the corners of his mouth curved in a near smile. “She is tough. I know she’s going to be fine. I’m just ready for her to wake up, Ma.”
“Because you’re happy to see her, or because you want to avenge her?”
There was a pause before he answered because, in all honesty, he didn’t know what the right answer was. It just wasn’t that simple where he was concerned. “I have so many questions, Ma.”
“I can imagine. Make sure she’s ready for your questions, Son. Ask them for the right reasons. She found her way back to you. There’s purpose in that, but maybe not for the reasons you’re thinking. Don’t make her regret such a decision after so many years.”
“I won’t. It’s just…” Dace wasn’t one for emotions or to share feelings — vulnerable wasn’t his thing — but he was beginning to feel overwhelmed after the past couple of days. “Where was she, Ma? What was she running from – was it me?”
“Only she can answer that, but my gut never tells a lie, and I’d like to think it wasn’t ill intentioned.”
“Maybe.” The sorrow and absolute pain Dace had carried for years was starting to show. The larger than life bad boy covered in tattoos and piercings with more bar brawls and covert ops under his belt than any O’Reilly was starting to crumple, but only for his ma.
“Two things I know for certain, boyo.” Colleen’s sassy Irish brogue was back. “One, you’ll get through this okay. You always land on your feet. And two…you stink to high heaven. You need to go home and shower. I brought some food from the Pub and put it in your fridge at home.”
“Ma…”
“Don’t Ma me. Do as you’re told. I’ll stay here with our girl. She’s safe.”
“They’ve been weaning her off the meds. She could wake up at any time, and I…”
“Would you rather her see my lovely smile when she does? Or wonder who let the hogs wrestle in her room? Because you’re ripe for the pickin’, Dacey.”
After a not so subtle armpit sniff, he agreed with his mother. Surely, she wasn’t the first to notice, and he was a bit embarrassed for that. Either the staff was insanely kind or afraid of him because none of them mentioned it. It didn’t matter, he needed a breath of fresh air and time to clean up nonetheless. Just the thought of his ma’s cooking sitting in his fridge at home made his stomach rumble. Vending machine and cafeteria food were doing him no favors.