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“Och, no. Not this time,” Tag replies firmly, his eyes not leaving Aiden’s face. “Whatever you did, and for whatever reason, if it doesn’t stand up to the light of day, you shouldn’t have done it.”
Aiden rubs a hand over his jaw and stares at me. “All right. If you want to do this here. I found sixty large in the bottom of her bag.”
“And you took it?”
He dips his chin. “I removed it and locked it in the secondary safe in the office for safekeeping. Then, I left a message saying I needed to discuss something delicate with you when you are finished with your calls.”
Tag’s expression is unreadable. If it weren’t for the rigidness in his frame, I wouldn’t even know he was upset. “All right, so let’s discuss it. I gave Laine my word that you’d pick up her things and she could trust me to deliver them to her. I told you what I wanted and yet, for some reason, you got creative while executing my orders.”
Aiden’s face is a mask of frustration, his anger matching mine. “I wasn’t getting creative. I did my job. I’m here to safeguard this family and in that vein, I deemed that the fact that a new player comes on the scene an hour before an attack and she’s carrying sixty grand is a fucking credible threat.”
I’m on my feet before I realize it, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. “All I wanted was some dinner and to unwind. What does my cash stash have to do with any of you? It’s none of your business.”
Aiden takes three quick strides toward me, and Tag is on his feet and standing between us in a heartbeat. “It’s my fucking business if you’re a McGuire plant. What was the plan? Get Tag into his office and drug him before the McGuires got there? Did they jump the gun, or did it take you too long to come?”
I lunge and Finn’s arm around my hips catches me mid-air.
Aiden’s words sting. I don’t even know the man, but his suspicion cuts deep. “I am not a plant, you moron!” My voice cracks, heavy with insult and fury.
“Then where did you get sixty grand, duck?”
“I stashed it away over the past year as my husband banged any woman that batted her eyes. It was my runaway fund, you asshole. It’s mine and I want it back.”
“And you’ll get it back,” Tag shifts between the two of us. “Aiden put it in my cabinet safe, so we’ll go get it. Finn, take Laine to my office. Laine, I’ll be there straight away. I need to have a private word with Aiden first.”
My heart is thumping in my chest, making an impressive attempt at escaping my ribcage. Finn sets me back on my feet but keeps a gentle hold on my waist. “Tag’s got you, Laine. You’ll get your money back, you’ll see. Let’s go to the office and calm down, shall we?”
I meet the sweet intentions of Tag’s youngest brother and nod. “Okay. A walk will do me good.”
The corridors of the Quinn home are intricate but quiet and calming. And after lunging at a mafia thug, finding a sense of calm is probably a good idea. In the heat of my anger, I said more than I meant to about my life.
I run through my outburst, wondering if my words will ruin my chances at my new identity. No. Likely not. Women get cheated on all the time and the fact that I saved up to start fresh is not only understandable, but logical.
Exhaling a long breath helps dissipate some of the turmoil churning inside me. That, and the silent presence of Finn at my side.
There’s something disarming about Tag’s brothers. Brendan and Bryan are characters and Finn is noticeably sad, but quite sweet.
Together we weave our way through the stone castle and my mood shifts from angry and ready to fight to amazed at how normal this place feels.
There’s a tangible warmth here, something I never felt living with Marco and his father, despite all the luxurious trappings of our shared home.
As we walk past the archway to the living room, a large oil painting over a grand fireplace catches my eye. It depicts a couple surrounded by five boys, all the mirror image of their father.
“Wow, your poor mother.”
Finn slows, his gaze following mine to the portrait. “What makes you say that?”
“She gave birth to five boys and not one of you took after her. No one got her auburn hair or her blue eyes. All five of you are your dad.”
Finn chuckles. “On the outside, I suppose it looks like that. Mam died when I was six, so almost eighteen years ago. I don’t remember much about her, but from what my brothers say, Tag is the most like her in temperament. She was patient and fair and had the good sense to think things through.”
“And that’s Tag?”
Finn nods. “Aye, without a doubt. He’s as sound as a pound, Tag is.”
There’s no missing the warm admiration in Finn’s tone when he speaks of his brother. It’s in his eyes, too. “He’s a lot like Da too, though.”
His gaze is locked on the portrait, his expression growing increasingly solemn.
