Evelyn drops like a rock right into my arms, and I sweep her up against my chest.
Cian said I was stupid for going to see what was taking her so long, but never have I been more relieved to be in the right place at the right time.
Her head flops against my shoulder and her arms dangle limply past my hands as I hurry her down the steps before anyone takes notice. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Cian and Hank climbing from the car and rushing toward me as I carry her across the road and into the laundromat that sits on the street corner.
We own this place and run it cleanly as a way to keep an eye on the station and to deal with the cops on our payroll when they come in for their dry cleaning. As soon as I’m through the door, Cian is behind me, locking the door and flipping the sign to Closed.
I keep Evelyn close to my chest while moving through to the back of the shop, then I lay her down on one of the warm, empty tables and shrug off my leather jacket. Folding it quickly, I place it under her head and gently remove some of her hair from her face. For the first time since we met, she almost looks peaceful.
“Hank, get me some water and something sweet to eat,” I order as Hank peers around my shoulder. He obeys me instantly. “Cian, check the bugs.”
“You think she flaked?” Cian asks. “Ratted us out?”
I lift my head and fix him with a steely look. “Check the bugs.”
Cian rolls his eyes and slumps away with his phone in his hand, leaving me alone with Evelyn. It did cross my mind that she would just spill the truth to that detective. I don’t know anything about this woman other than that she was clearly terrified to be in our presence, so she very well could have handed us to the cops on a platter.
Wouldn’t that be funny? The downfall of the Gifford Clan at the hands of a motel maid. Brenden would find that fucking hilarious.
The thought of him makes my chest squeeze, so I focus on Evelyn’s wrist and check her pulse. It’s a little weak but it’s there. Her forehead is warm to the back of my hand but her fingers are cold to the touch. Hank appears a few moments later with a bottle of water and a chocolate bar. He presses them into my hands just as Evelyn moans softly, so I jerk my head and silently order him to disappear so Evelyn doesn’t wake up to more than one person leering over her.
“Evelyn?” Cautiously, I touch her jaw.
She turns her head slowly into my hand, as if she’s chasing the warmth of my touch, and then her eyes slowly flutter open.
“Evelyn? Are you with me?”
Her eyes close briefly and her lips press together. Her throat bobs and then her tongue darts out to sweep her lower lip. Then she opens her eyes and looks up at me. For a moment, I’m transfixed by the warm chocolate-brown irises holding me in place.
Then Evelyn’s eyes widen and she lurches away from me with a cry. Her movement is so violent that she almost throws herself off the table, so I dart out my hand and catch her around the waist to stop her from falling to the floor.
“No!” Evelyn screeches, twisting in my grip, and fear bleeds into her voice. “Let me go!”
“Okay!” I throw my hands up and step back, watching her fall from the table at an angle and stumble as her shaky legs hit the floor. “I was just stopping you from falling. This is a stone floor.” I stomp one foot against the floor to prove my point. “I was trying to stop you from hurting yourself.”
Evelyn glares at me through tears, clutching at the table as she fights to maintain her balance.
“You collapsed,” I explain. “I caught you, brought you here. Look, you need to eat something. Drink something.” I point to the water and chocolate on the table. “Please.”
“You,” Evelyn gasps. “She told me what you are!”
It clicks in my mind like the snap of a puzzle and I lower my arms. “So?”
“So?” she screeches. “You’re Mafia! You’re the freaking—” She cuts herself off and sways to the side, clutching at the table. After a few seconds, she straightens up and snatches up the bar. “You are criminals, dangerous people. I see it on the news, in the papers. You’re all just—” She pauses and takes a gigantic bite of the bar, then continues to yell at me through the chewing. “And you’ve pulled me into this terrible, terrible fucking mess. I’m just a maid, okay! I’m just a normal, regular person that likes wine and binge-watching TV shows and scouring adoption websites for pets I know I can’t have. I’m not anything, okay? I was a nobody and I liked being a nobody until I found that body, and now—” She sobs, torn between crying and wolfing down the chocolate bar.
Her anger, while surprising, grows rather amusing. It’s the first fire I’ve seen in her since we snatched her off the street, and it seems she is not as meek as I first thought. There’s fight in her, a desire to live, which instantly soothes my concerns about whether or not she shopped us to the cops.
If she did, she wouldn’t be here right now.
“I’m not a bad person! I’ve never harmed anyone, at least not to the levels of the freaking Mafia, okay? I’m a good person. I pay my taxes and shovel the snow off my part of the sidewalk, and I don’t deserve to have my life derailed by a crime like this!”
“You’re right,” I reply quietly. “And my brother didn’t deserve to die like this.”
Evelyn glowers at me with her mouth too full to speak, so I continue.
“You’re also correct in that we are members of the Irish Mob. I am the leader, the Captain of the Gifford Clan since my brother’s death.” Pain spears through my chest again, and I seek out the lighter in my pocket. It doesn’t soothe me as much as I need, but I force myself to keep talking. “This is one of our laundromats. You see, we own most of the businesses in this part of the city, and we lend them out to struggling families and business owners who wouldn’t be able to afford the property tax or rent otherwise. In return, we sometimes do business through them. The corruption in this state runs deeper than I or any of the other families can fix, so we take care of the little guys as much as we can.”
Evelyn’s angry chewing begins to slow.
“We’re also in charge of the guns. You might think that it’s ridiculous to flood the market with high-quality weapons, but let me tell you something. Those people out there who want guns? They will do anything to get them. So we match the supply with decent weapons that aren’t rigged to explode in the hands of a teenager. If we don’t do it, someone else will, so at least we can make sure the weapons are safe. And thanks to a deal my brother secured with the Italian families, we also have the market on pharmaceutical drugs so we can ensure that the same people we protect can get the healthcare they require without losing their homes.”
All of that is my brother’s legacy, and my mother’s to an extent. It feels strange to list out our victories while the man responsible lies in the morgue across the street.
“So sure, we’re criminals,” I finish. “But we take care of the people better than any suit or cop ever will.”
Evelyn swallows and scrunches up the chocolate wrapper in her hand. “Oh.”
“Feel better?” I ask, indicating to the finished chocolate.
She glances down at her hand, and her realization is visible on her face as she nods. “Yeah… I guess.”
“Your blood sugar was low. That coupled with stress is likely the reason you passed out.”
“Breaking the law so an Irish Mafia man doesn’t murder me is pretty stressful,” Evelyn mutters, but the heat of her fury has died down somewhat and her shoulders slump. “Didn’t know you guys worked like that.”
“Not many people do. I don’t speak for other families, only mine,” I say. “We are territorial and loyal, and my brother, Brenden…” My throat closes briefly, and I swallow down the growing lump. “His death brings us on the brink of something terrible that isn’t your concern. But you have to understand that he was what was best for this city and someone killed him, so I will do everything and anything I can to find out who the fuck did it. Including using you to plant bugs on the detective because apparently, money doesn’t speak to her.”
Sighing deeply, I drag one hand down my face and slide it around to the tight muscles at the back of my neck.
“And Brenden was my brother. I need to find out what happened to him. So I’m sorry that you are in a tough situation, but I’m not sorry for using you because he is—was—important to me. I loved him.” I meet her gaze. “And I will do anything to bring his killer to justice.”
“Wow,” Evelyn says softly, reaching for the water bottle. “I can’t even fathom that kind of love.”
“Your family would do the same for you,” I say, “if they had my means.”
She doesn’t reply. She merely drinks a few gulps of the water and then lowers the bottle. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“That if I did this, I would be free to go? I want to go home.”
“I need one more thing from you.”
Her eyes narrow and her shoulders slope down. “What thing?”
Approaching the table, I hold her gaze and for a long while, she doesn’t look away.
“I need to know why Brenden was at the motel.”
“I already told you, I don’t know him. I didn’t see him and had no idea he was there.”
“I believe you,” I say firmly, and her eyes widen a fraction. “But I can’t get into the crime scene. I need to get eyes in there to see if he left anything behind.”
“Wouldn’t the cops have it already if there were something?”
“Brenden is smarter than the fucking cops,” I snap, fighting to keep the heat out of my voice. “I need my eyes in there. But I can’t get in there. None of my people can. But you can because you work there.”
Evelyn chews on her lower lip and glances away, crinkling the water bottle under her tightening grip. “I don’t want to go back in there,” she whispers.
“You don’t have a choice,” I reply flatly, but this time there’s an odd bubble of static under my ribs at the thought of forcing her.
“Will you kill me if I refuse?” She lifts those big eyes back to me.
“Yes.” And yet, that feels like a lie.
Evelyn drags a hand through her hair and sighs so deeply it’s a wonder she doesn’t deflate herself. “Fine,” she mutters. “But this is the last thing, you understand? I’m not doing anything else and I don’t care if you kill me for it.”
