Sully: An Irish Mafia Romance (The Brotherhood Book 3) Page 14

  I look forward to the day it happens. I shiver as I fantasize about Rush losing control, Sully letting go, and Wolf having free rein.

  A cough interrupts my daydreaming, and by the time my eyes refocus on the present, I’m looking at the backs of Sully and Wolf. I take a moment to appreciate this view, my lust still swirling around and distracting me.

  “Sorry to, uh, interrupt. I’m Alejandro. Sloane’s craving a cappuccino from the cafe down the street. Can I bring something back for any of you?”

  I peek between the sliver of space between their large bodies, unsurprised to see the guy from Aunt Sloane’s latest Instagram photos.

  I step away from Rush and to the side of the boys, and after a moment, he relents with a little grumble. I flash Alejandro a smile.

  “Hey, I’m Alaina. This is Sully and Wolf, and the guy in the back is Rush. Nice to meet you,” I say with a little wave.

  Alejandro steps forward and grasps my outstretched hand in his. “Ah, yes, the infamous niece, Alaina.” He bends down as he lifts my hand toward his mouth.

  Before he places his lips on my skin, Wolf steps forward and removes my hand from his with a growl. “Don’t touch things that don’t belong to you.”

  If I weren’t so shocked, I’d laugh.

  To his credit, Alejandro simply nods and smiles. “Apologies. When I see such a beautiful woman, sometimes I can’t help myself.”

  Sully steps into Alejandro’s space. “You better try harder, yeah?”

  Alejandro backs up a step with his hands raised, palms out. “Got it. She’s off-limits. Is that a no on coffee then?”

  “I’ll take a chai latte,” I say with a smile. Wolf and Sully both whip their heads toward me, scowls overtaking their stunning features. I shrug my shoulders. “What? I could use a caffeine boost.”

  “We’ll take three coffees. Black. And Alaina’s chai latte,” Rush says from behind us. I see Wolf and Sully turn to stare at their brother, no doubt shooting their disbelieving glares toward him.

  Alejandro gives us a wide berth as he makes his way toward the front door. He stops to grab his keys out of a bowl that Maddie made in middle school pottery class. “I’ll be back.”

  The front door closes with a click, and I slowly spin on my heel. “So that was . . .”

  “Ah dear, did you meet Alejandro?” Aunt Sloane breezes into the room, fluttering her eyelashes with a sigh. “Isn’t he dreamy?” She changed into a navy blue halter pantsuit with a low vee cut in the front and back. She looks amazing in it.

  “He looks eighteen,” Sully deadpans.

  Aunt Sloane cuts him a look before returning to whatever fantasy is playing in front of her eyes. “He’s twenty-three, and trust me, it shows in the bedroom.”

  “Oh, okay. That’s probably more than I needed to know about the guy. Let’s sit down, Aunt Sloane.” I walk toward the couches in her sunken-in living room.

  Her apartment is done in shades of cream—cream-colored shag rugs, toffee-and-cream-colored low-back couch, white with just the barest hint of cream paint covers the walls, and every photo is in a white frame.

  I remember being younger and nervous about getting everything dirty, not that Aunt Sloane would’ve really cared. She’d have just gone out and bought a replacement if anything ever got ruined. But the anxiety was still there.

  I sit down in the middle of the couch that faces the wall of windows. The afternoon sun shines in through partially closed blinds, warming my face.

  Wolf sits next to me, Rush sits on the armchair to the left of us, and Sully stands behind the couch right behind me, arms crossed and legs spread. Aunt Sloane glances around the room, her expression unreadable, before she sits next to me.

  She covers my clasped hands in hers and looks me in the eye. “Tell me what happened to my sister.”

  I nod and bite my lip. I glance at Rush from under my lashes, and his nod is imperceptible. I take a deep breath and prepare myself mentally to go back to that day. I’m not going to give her the whole truth—I honestly don’t think she needs to hear all of it. She knows how present my mom was in my life. I give her the short version of events, surprised that I can recall them with such a level of detachment.

  “I don’t understand, Lainey. How did she even know these people?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. I think she got mixed up with some bad people, and it all caught up with her.”

  Aunt Sloane sniffs. “I felt her, you know. I felt something right here”—she taps her chest right above her heart—“when she died. I felt part of my heart die that day too. She wasn’t perfect, but she was my sister. And I loved her.”

  I nod a few times. My sinuses tingle, and I can feel the tears gathering at the back of my eyes. “I know. I loved her too.”

  Wolf laces his fingers through mine on one side, and I lean my head on Aunt Sloane’s shoulder. We all sit in silence for a few minutes, seemingly lost in our thoughts.

  I lick my lips and lift my head from her shoulder. I bring my leg up on the couch, bent so I can turn to face her. “She told me that I needed to tell you something before she died. And some of her, uh, last words were ‘tell Sloane it’s time.’ Do you know what that means?”

  I watch the color drain from Aunt Sloane’s face, and she stares at me without really seeing me. Her mouth parts and her whole body seems to deflate. She nods, and without a word, leaves the living room.

  She returns a moment later with a thick accordion file holder in her hands. She’s murmuring under her breath as she sits down on the couch and hands it to me. “This is what she meant. She told me years and years ago that if something were to happen to her, I should give you this. She liked to remind me once a year. I’ve kept it in my safe this whole time, but I haven’t ever peeked. I promise.”

  I run my fingertips over the worn brown leather of the file holder. It’s wide and stuffed full of papers. I unwind the strap holding it closed and open the leather flap. Wolf leans in close as I pull out the top piece of paper. It’s my birth certificate.

  Alaina Murphy Gallagher.

  Lana Murphy Gallagher, mother. Aidan Ronan Gallagher, father. I trace his signature on the bottom of the thick piece of paper. I hand it to Wolf to hold and pull out a small stack.

  The next paper catches my attention. It’s torn from a notebook, and it’s just a list of numbers . . . almost like coordinates. It reminds me of when I had to study latitude and longitude for a school project.

  “There’s something . . . familiar about this,” I murmur as I tap my lip with my fingertip.

  “What is it, Red?”

  The numbers swim before my eyes, and suddenly, it hits me. “I’ve seen something like this before.” I look between each of them, hesitating on Rush. “When I, uh, broke into the safe in the basement at Summer Knoll. Well, I didn’t break in, more like it wasn’t closed all the way. Ish.” I bite my lip, shoulder stiff as I wait for one of them to say something.

  My gaze stays on Rush. He’s the one I’m most worried about. I’m not sure what his reaction will be to that little tidbit of information. What he does next shocks me.

  A genuine smile stretches across his face. “You snooped around, yeah? Good girl.”

  A shiver rolls over me when he says those two words in that low tenor of his, his eyes downright sparkling.

  “What are these, Lainey?” Aunt Sloane asks, her face hovering over my shoulder.

  “They’re coordinates. I’m not sure what they’re for, but if they’re in the safe, then I know someone who might know.” The three men exchange a look, and I’d be a fool not to know they’re talking about their father.

  “Your mom, she’d drop off a piece of paper or envelope here for me to put in this folder every once in a while. Before last week, it’d been years since she added to it.” Sloan swipes underneath her eyes again, catching any stray mascara.

  “She was here last week? Do you know what she gave you?” My heart pounds in anticipation.

  Sloane shakes her he
ad before I finish asking my question. “I never look or ask, but I did slip the envelope in the back.”

  Adrenaline floods my veins as I flip the file folder over so the back is on top. Sliding my hand in, I pull out a white envelope. My breath falters when I see her familiar handwriting on the outside of the envelope.

  I swallow down the bark of nervous laughter that threatens to come out.

  A letter. She wrote me a letter. I don’t think she’s ever written me a letter before. I don’t think she’s ever written me a card before. She wasn’t the loving-messages-in-your-lunchbox kind of mom.

  Dear Alaina,

  If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. I’m not going to do that thing people do where they act like we had some amazing relationship and you’re beside yourself without me. I know I wasn’t a good mother to you. And I’m sorry for that.

  I still remember when we found out we were pregnant. Aidan was overjoyed. He stopped strangers on the street and told them, “My wife and I are having a baby. Isn’t that amazing?” He wanted you more than anything in the world.

  Not a day goes by that I don’t miss your father. The only thing that brings me peace is knowing that I’ll see him again someday.

  Life hasn’t been fair to you—I haven’t been fair to you. But I want you to know that I’ve always loved you. Always.

  By now, I’m assuming you know about your real name—your father’s last name. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, I’ve included all the papers in here. They’ll explain everything.

  Everything in this folder is for you. I’ve collected every piece of information I could over the years, but to get the full story on your father’s family—your family—you need to contact the man who helped me hide you.

  All I have is his address from ten years ago.

  Seamus Flannery

  Lismore, County Waterford,

  Ireland

  Give Auntie Sloan a hug for me.

  —Mom

  I fold the letter back into thirds, staring at the way the thick stationery absorbs my tears. Lifting my head, I meet Rush’s gaze across from me. His posture is rigid, muscles taut, and he looks like he’s seconds away from Hulking out.

  A rueful smile tips up the corner of my lips at that thought. Watching Rush tear off his clothes as he kicks some ass? Sign me up.

  “Words, baby.” His gentle voice brings me out of the Hulk-smash fantasy of Rush ripping his clothes off.

  I hold up the letter between my thumb and index finger. “Letter from Mom. She said I need to find some Seamus guy in Ireland for the whole story on being a Gallagher.”

  With a finger on my chin, Wolf turns my face in his direction. “Why the tears then, baby girl? Talk to us.”

  I lean forward, resting my forehead against his shoulder. I exhale a shaky breath and whisper, “I just don’t understand why it hurts so much. She wrote she always loved me, but it didn’t feel that way, not really.” I lift my head and look at Wolf. The corners of his eyes are pinched like he’s in pain, and his grip on my ribs is firm. “But then why am I so sad?”

  “She was a shitty mom, Red, but she was still your mom. And it’s okay to mourn her,” Wolf murmurs.

  The dam holding back my emotions breaks with his words, almost like I was waiting for permission to let go. I curl my fingers in his shirt and just let it all go.

  Sobs wrack my body, and Wolf wraps his arms around me. My body expels all my pain and disappointment, attempting to purge it from my very soul.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sully

  Her words, so full of anguish, tug at something inside me I thought I buried years ago.

  I spare a glance at Sloane when she stands from the couch, murmuring something about getting a drink.

  The moment she leans her head on Wolf's chest, the saddest goddamn noise I've ever heard leaves her lips almost involuntarily. Wolf closes his arms around her and cradles her to his chest. He rubs his hand up and down her back and whispers something too low for me to hear.

  I'm not sure I could hear anything anyway. My ears are ringing, and my vision is graying out on the sides. I clutch my chest where it feels like my fucking heart is about to explode.

  Am I having a goddamn heart attack?

  Lainey makes another noise, this one more pained than the last, and I'm moving before I even realize what I'm doing. With a hand on the back of the couch, I launch myself over it to land on the cushion behind her. I curl my arms around her middle and lean my head against the back of her neck, draping my body along the back of hers. Protecting her.

  I feel my brother's eyes on me for a moment, but then his focus is back on our girl. And goddamn, she is our fucking girl, isn't she? I know what we said to each other last night, but that shit feels more like a fever dream than real life. And in all my wildest dreams, I never imagined it’d be like this.

  Rush kneels next to her on the floor, shielding her body from that angle. I watch as he holds her thighs in his hands, his gaze faraway and probably calculating whatever homicide he thinks will fix this. Not that I fucking blame him.

  We're a trio of shields surrounding her while she's vulnerable. I don't know how long we stay like that. Long enough that Lana's little boy toy comes back with coffee and leaves just as quick. Long enough that my legs are cramping up from this hunched-over position. Long enough for our girl to run out of tears and fall asleep like this, propped up between the three of us.

  I'm almost annoyed at how good it feels to have her in my arms again. Even if it's because she's heartbroken. Which makes me a total prick.

  "She's out." Wolf's voice is low.

  I lift my head off of her back, sliding her hair to one shoulder to place a kiss on the nape of her neck. I'm actively tamping down the panic that's threatening to rise and overthrow me. Being with her like this—with them—letting myself care about her so quickly is fucking dangerous. It’d be all too easy to let myself get consumed by her again.

  But a lot of shit has changed in two years—I’ve changed. And I have other responsibilities now—things I can’t afford to lax on.

  "You good, brother?" Rush asks me with a head tilt.

  I nod a few times. "It's dangerous. She's dangerous—”

  Wolf scoffs. "Why? Because some rich prick owns some business overseas? Please. She doesn't have anything to do with that shit. Not really."

  "Nah. Not that, though I think you and I both know that if that's who sent that red-eyed motherfucker after her, it's not just some rich prick." I eye both of them before I glance at the siren in my arms. "She's always been my goddamn siren. And you guys have no idea what I'm willing to do—how far I'm willing to go when it comes to her. I almost left the Brotherhood, you know."

  Shock holds them both mobile.

  Wolf recovers first. "The fuck you just say?"

  I shrug a shoulder as I toy with the ends of her hair. It looks like the sunset on fire in this light. "Back in the summer I was here. I was fucking angry. Mad that I'm the one that got pinched because we had a fucking rat. Angry that I had to spend my summer away from you guys. I walked into that library with so much goddamn anger and resentment, and she took one look at me, and I was a fucking goner. That's it. She called to me like the fucking siren she is, and I haven't been able to stop hearing her call. Even all these years later."

  I blow out a breath and look at my brothers. Wolf’s mouth drops open in shock, but Rush doesn’t look all that surprised.

  "She didn't ask me to leave, not that she really knew what the Brotherhood was. But that's the fucked-up thing. I wanted to leave. She made me want to be a better person, to spend my teenage years going to the movies instead of securing locations for weapons deals."

  "Why didn't you ever tell us?" Rush sits back on the coffee table.

  I grimace. “I was going to, but . . ."

  "But then that warehouse in Brooklyn blew up," Wolf fills in.

  "Aye. The warehouse blew up, and I never heard from her again until I stro
lled into our kitchen and saw her standing next to Wolf like she belongs there."

  "She fucking does belong next to me," Wolf growls the words out, his brow furrowed and gaze hard.

  "You think I don't think she fucking belongs with me too?" My jaw protests at how hard I'm clenching it.

  "She belongs with all of us," Rush says, his tone firm and unwavering. "This is part of our plan, both of you know that, so I don't get why you're acting like territorial dogs right now."

  “And she knows that?" I glare at him.

  "She thinks it was her idea. Eventually, we'll tell her the whole truth. But I don't think it's necessary right now. It doesn't change anything,” Rush says with a nod.

  "Doesn't it though? It changes everything. We're painting a target on her back. The Brotherhood has so many enemies, not to mention all the enemies the three of us have combined." I twirl the end of her hair through my fingers, marveling at the silky texture. "I don't want her to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life."

  "Do you have anything to add, baby girl?" Rush asks, his lips twisting to the side.

  Alaina tilts her head to look at my brother. "How long have you known I was awake?"

  "How long have you been awake?" His eyes sparkle with amusement, but I'm still surprised.

  "How much did you hear, princess?"

  She adjusts her position on the couch so she can see all three of us clearly. She swipes under her eyes and runs her fingers through her hair before blowing out a breath. "I guess this is as good of time as any, right? I don't think I've made it a secret, but just so we're all on the same page. I want to be with you—all three of you. At the same time."

  Her phrasing catches me off-guard, and all the blood rushes to my cock when I think about taking her in all the ways I want to. The three of us have never shared a woman like that before, but with the way their eyes light up, I'd say we're all in agreement that we're up for it.

  Alaina notices the shift in the air and rolls her eyes. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean like date the three of you at the same time."