Page 39 of Connor's Claim

“We have, but the important thing now is you stay with others at all times. Don’t even get into a car alone.”

“I won’t. I’m sleeping here tonight then I’ll go home tomorrow as my father will be back. Connor’s taking good care of me.”

I grimaced, moving on to the next part of why I’d come. Though she appeared fine, no bruises, no signs of mistreatment,I needed to be sure. “Are you all right staying here? No one’s mistreating you? That jackass who threw down at your place, he’s dangerous.” For all I knew, Shade could be worse than the Four Milers gang members who hunted her.

Everly pressed her hand to her chest. “Connor? Of course he’s not harming me.”

“You talking about the boss? Shut the fuck up, running your mouth like that,” the bouncer barked.

I raised a shoulder. “Am I wrong in being worried?”

Gen waved. “Hold on a minute. I feel like I’ve walked into an alternate reality. Riordan, why are you warning Everly off Shade, and how do you know she’s in danger? Where did that bruise on your face come from, and lastly, which I really need to know, how the heck were you in the mayor’s house?”

Everly peeked at me. “Connor claimed you worked for the Four Milers. Is that true?”

Genevieve swung around in outrage. “He would never take a job for them. I can’t believe you were told that.”

I closed my eyes for a beat, trying to find a way to explain this that didn’t make either Mick turn his clenched fists on me or my sister do the same.

I did what I’d done for good reason.

If she knew the whole of it, she’d never understand. Then again, secrets destroyed lives. I’d know, as mine was torn to shreds the week before my mother died, and nothing had been the same since.

“Actually, it’s true.”

Chapter 14

Connor

The red taillights of Convict’s car cruised out of sight, and at the car park exit, Arran swore then spun a kick at the street sign for Harbour Parade. Again and again, he railed against it until it flew off the stand and went clattering down the cobbled street. A cheer rose from the queue of people outside Divide. I didn’t share their amusement.

Neither did my friend.

“Walk with me.” He strode down to the water’s edge, the light from the overhead lamps not reaching the railing so we were more comfortably in darkness.

“That was shite,” I muttered.

Arran paced away then turned back, hands on his hips, and his expression tortured. As displays to onlookers went, he was doing a stellar job of convincing them a deadly rift had occurred between us and our ex-crew member.

It was mostly true. Hurting Convict, though the guy couldn’t feel pain, had fucked both of us up, even with his instruction ofwhere and how hard to hit. He’d go home to lick his wounds and wait for the Four Milers to come to him.

They would. They’d leap on the chance to take him in, even if they suspected him. Problem was whether he was a good enough actor not to get his head blown off in the process.

“I just kept remembering when we met him,” Arran said. “You and I were maybe nineteen, and he was dropped off outside that dive we used to hang out at by his probation officer. Their sole idea for him to ever make any money. At a fucking fight club.”

“The Glass House, though the only windows it had were broken and the steps down to the cellar were crumbling and stank of piss.” I pictured the club like it was yesterday. The place where Arran and I had learned to fight. “He’d served eight months for burglary, and it was his third stretch since he’d turned fifteen.”

“Did he tell you that for the final two months, they’d moved him from a young offenders’ institute to an adult prison? He said it was to shock him, but for him, prison was safer than the bullshit life he’d suffered in care homes.” He linked his hands behind his blond head and gazed up at the sky. “I used to think that being taken into foster care would be the best thing I could ever wish for. Convict cured me of that claim.”

Arran had had a shite childhood with a vicious father. My neglectful mother and her bad choices in men were nothing to his suffering.

I’d sometimes wanted the same as him. Being pulled out of that situation by an adult who gave a damn. Until Everly lied to me about how there could be love within relationships, too.

Despite even that, I couldn’t bring myself to regret the time I’d spent playing family with her. What the fuck was wrong with me?

“I hope he survives this,” Arran added.

I tilted my head. “Will ye forgive him if he does?”