SOMEHOW, SHE ENDED up on top. After the second time? Maybe it was the third. Sex rehab was her kind of therapy.
As she collapsed against his torso, movement was difficult. “I’m staying here,” she said, eyes closed, head on his chest.
“Okay.” He pushed her hair away from her cheek and temple. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”
That was probably a lie, but she wanted it to be true so accepted it.
Rocking her hips just a little, she reminded him he was still inside her. “Right here.”
“Soon as I’m hard, I’ll have what I want.”
“Good.”
“Won’t care if you’re asleep.”
She kissed the skin beneath her cheek before settling again. “I consent. Now and always. Sleep or not, I want it… from you. Only you.”
“What’d I say about other guys?” His fingers rested in her hair. “Talk to me.” This again? “Enough distraction.”
Just what she feared him saying. There was no getting out of it.
“I dragged Strat into this, doesn’t feel right doing the same to you.”
“There’s no ‘you.’ Talk, Macushla.”
Exhaling, confession time dawned. “I took from the Manzanis,” she admitted, unable to look him in the eye. “Strat knew, I knew, it would be trouble. I’m not stupid.” Though the opposite could be argued simply because she did it. “And now, I thought… we don’t know if Silvio is involved, if he…” Another truth was unavoidable. “My dad knows, doesn’t he? He knows who killed my grandfather.”
“Maybe not the shooter, but aye, he knows more than he’s telling us.”
“More than he’s telling Lachlan and the police. I could understand him not telling me; he doesn’t trust me. But Lachlan…”
“If your brother knew, he’d tell the cops, and the perp would be locked up. What did you take from the Manzanis?”
He’d looped right back to the conversation she didn’t want to have. The truth could endanger the man, the family, she valued more than any other.
“I thought I was doing the right thing. A good deed. A necessary deed… I had no idea that it would lead to this.”
“What’s this?”
“We need to know if Silvio is responsible for Grandpapa’s death.”
“You want to trade,” he said. “What they know for what you stole?”
“Stole is a strong word, but… I thought if we could talk to someone from the Manzani side, not Vex ‘cause he’s useless and hasn’t come up with anything, someone useful. What happened with him at the wake?”
“Doesn’t matter. Did you reach out to Vex?”
“No, I… I went to Strat because that’s what I do, and I didn’t want to put you in the middle.”
“I’m not in the middle, I’m at your side. We stand together.”
“I know, but if you ask, if you get—it’s not discreet.”
“You think I can’t be discreet?”
“I think pushing the McDade button could be nuclear.”
“They know we’re involved.”
How could he be so calm when everything in her was fraught?
Rising to sit, her legs stayed astride him. “Yeah, and they’ve possibly already murdered one man I love, I can’t—shit.”
Getting up, she went into the closet. Except she needed a shower, she couldn’t—something snagged her wrist. Someone.
“You get defensive with me, I’ll use a different tack.”
“I went to Strat; I asked him to set me up a meet because I thought if I could ask—if I could look into the eyes of… It doesn’t matter. He was against it.”
“Good. He should’ve told you to come to me.”
“He did. More than once.”
“Then he gets to live.”
She sighed, yanking her wrist. “Conn.”
His grip clamped tighter, jerking her hard against him. “You bring everything to me, Sersha McLeod.”
“I was so lost, I… I can’t be strong like you. I fake it in front of other people, but I can’t with you. You see right through me.”
“My strength belongs to you. Your fire gives you all the guts you need to be with me.”
“And if I disappoint you? I don’t want to…”
And that was… What was to stop the same thing happening with Conn? She’d told Strat and he’d put himself in the firing line. Would Conn do the same thing?
“Sersh…” He grabbed her jaw to pull her face closer to his. “Nothing you say, nothing you’ve done, will change us. Can I trust you?”
Connel’s people told him everything. There were no secrets because loyalty was absolute. That was his world, and she needed to be part of it. That might mean accepting less than savory practices.
“Do you trade in women?”
“Do I…?”
“Exploit women for profit?”
“No.”
Could she believe that? “Do you pimp women out?”
His frown deepened. “No.”
“You don’t make money from prostitution?”
“No,” he said. “I make money from rent.”
That was unexpected. “Rent? I don’t—”
“We provide safe premises for women to work. They pay to rent a room and keep every cent they earn. With their rent comes security.”
Like someone might rent a chair in a salon to make their money freelance.
“Do you sell them drugs?”
“No drugs allowed on site.”
“How do you—”
“We have rules. Anyone causes trouble, they’re out.”
Yeah, that was the McDades call, because there was no national body monitoring non-existent regulations. The McDades could make up whatever rules they liked and enforce them any way they pleased.
“But the women here, for the party—”
“We pay them to appear.”
“And take their money?”
“No, they keep everything they earn. Trade with the john is between those two parties, no one else. Everyone draws their own lines.”
“And if a john tries to take more than that or refuses to pay—”
“The McDades look after their people.”
Something he was proud of, something he deserved to be proud of.
“What about porn?” Curious, his hold loosened. “Is there any industry the McDades avoid?”
“Pharmaceuticals. Prescription and recreational.”
“Because?”
“Dealers end up using the product. Makes them unreliable, easily influenced. People need to put the family first. Addicts always prioritize their addiction.”
Like he did with her.
“And your prostitutes aren’t drug addicts?”
“They’re not my hookers and what they do off-site is up to them. How would you cope? Spending every hour of the day and night, playing with the cock of some incel paying you to act like he’s the hottest fuck you ever had?” What a futile and heart sickening way to live. “It’s not their fault, most of the time. Unstable and desperate fucks a lot of folks. A lot of families.”
“What other industries do we play in?”
“Money lending, construction, protection, rentals… we pick up stock where we can, pass it along.” Code for theft, she’d guess. “Gambling, to a certain extent. Clubs, we look after our people.”
“Do you harass those who don’t pay for protection?”
“No,” he said. “We offer payback for those who do. We don’t just protect, we stand up for our own. Paying the McDades means protection, not extortion… We’re not shy ‘bout that in the right field.” Yeah, like her experience. “Game the stock market when we get the chance.”
“Insider trading?”
“What has this got to do with the Manzani trade?”
“I took from the Manzanis. I can’t trust Vex.”
“Who’s the meet with? Silvio?”
“Swerve.”
His head almost fell back, in its tilt, she could hear him groan.
“Macushla.”
“I know! Don’t get mad.”
He hissed out a breath. “Give me whatever it is. I’ll do the trade.”
She cringed. “This is where your disappointment comes in.”
His chin dropped as he frowned. “You lost it?” She shook her head. “Destroyed it?” Shake again. “Sold it?”
“I never intended to hand it over.”
His hands fell to his sides, bewildered, like he couldn’t comprehend it. Shock wasn’t a typical emotion for this man.
“It’s about pride,” he stated.
“I know that.”
“There’s a way the game is played.”
“Strat told me that too.”
“You carry the McDade name now,” he said. “Your reputation is our reputation. To insult the family name—”
“I get it. I know. I’m sorry. It was an impulse; an idea born in the midst of desperation. This is why I say these things out loud to Strat before I do them. His reaction is a barometer of my craziness.”
“He shouldn’t let you do anything dangerous.”
“Wish granted.” Sinking forward, her face came to rest against him. “He arranged the meet… for him, not for me. He’s going to screw the Manzanis so I can’t.”
A hand curved around the back of her head. “What do you want?”
One simple question.
Her simple answer. “Strat safe.”
“Anything you want, I can make it happen.”
“Will you protect my friend?”
“Aye. Have the Manzanis called in their chit?”
“They don’t know I have it. As far as I know, they don’t know.” He followed one hand with the other until his thumbs pressed into her jaw to tip her head back. “They know it’s gone. They don’t know I’m the one hiding it.”
“Why would you do that? Take that kind of risk without the McDade shield?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s pathetic.”
“Talk to me,” he beseeched. “Macushla, I need to trust you more than any other person alive.” Given the longevity of some people in his life, that was quite an ask. “Where are you always safe?”
“With you.”
His hold strengthened. “Trust me,” he said through gritted teeth. “Come on, baby. Trust me.”