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My brother coughs, glances at the unconscious man, and then mutters the truth: “That’s Silus McLean.”
When I hear that name, my eyes damn near bug out of my head. “Did you just… did you just say we have Silus McLean in our living room, tied up? Are you saying I roofied the Silus McLean, from the McLean crime family? Did I help you kidnap a mafia boss?”
“Uh, I mean, technically speaking, you helped us kidnap a mafia boss,” Max clarifies, as if that helps anything. “He’s here for you, too, not just for me.”
I lift my gun-free hand to my head. “Oh, my God. Oh my God. This can’t be happening. Couldn’t you have chosen anyone else in the city? Fuck, we’re so screwed. I feel a headache coming on.” I work on getting my hair out of the ponytail, hard to do with just the one hand, but since I’m holding onto a gun with the other…
Shit.
“See? This is exactly why I didn’t want you to know who it was until after it was done. I knew you’d get cold feet if you knew—”
“If I knew that we were going to kidnap a man who probably will have an army of goons out there, looking for him, ready to kill to get him back? Yeah, I might’ve had some reservations!”
Max steps toward me, lifting both hands as he inhales and slowly exhales, like he’s trying to remind me to stay calm. “It’ll be okay, Thea. I’m going to take the car back and dump his phone, so they can’t track him, then I will come right back. Tomorrow I’ll get a meeting with Cormac O’Connor and tell him he can have him. With all the bad blood between their families, I’m sure he’ll jump on the chance to get his hands on Silus.”
“Cormac O’Connor? That’s who you’re going to sell Silus to?” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Don’t worry, sis, I got this. When have I ever let you down?” The way Max asks that question, so easily, makes it sound like he’s never had a bad idea in his life—which we both know isn’t strictly true.
I blink and deadpan, “Do you really want me to answer that? Because I can. Remember the babysitting job—”
“I was ten. A child. That’s different.”
“How is it—”
My brother must sense he’s not going to convince me this is a good idea, because the only thing he does is step around me and say, “Just watch him while I’m gone, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can. He probably won’t even wake up until I get back.” He leaves the house before I can formulate any sort of response.
I watch him go with my mouth hanging open, holding onto that damned gun. This was a bad idea from the get-go, but now? Now it’s just about the worst idea anyone has ever had in the history of ideas.
Assuming we get out of this alive, I’m going to kill Max.
I go to lock the door and then I take a seat on the couch across from Silus freaking McLean. The furniture in the living room is all cockeyed thanks to the addition of the kitchen chair and the very large man fixed to it. All the curtains in the house are drawn, so no one can peek in from any window.
There’s a mafia boss in my house. An unconscious mafia boss. A man who, in all probability, has killed dozens of people and won’t hesitate to kill us if he gets free—and all I have to stop him is his own gun.
We are asking for trouble here.
An old TV sits in the corner of the room. A part of me wants to turn it on so I can focus on something else, but the other part of me is worried the sound of the TV will wake our guest up. Obviously, the last thing I want to do is wake this guy up.
So, instead, I sit on the couch and stare at him while mentally cursing out my brother.
This is going to be a long night.
Chapter Three – Thea
Max gets back in just over an hour, and he says he’ll take the first watch. I’m all too happy to hand him the gun and go upstairs, mostly to put some distance between me and the dangerous man I helped kidnap.
Shit. It makes a lot more sense now why that guy at the bar, the one who wouldn’t take no for an answer, got so pale and freaked out when he saw me with Silus. I basically asked one of the most feared men in the city to pretend to be my boyfriend just to get a creep to go away.
And he did it. Let’s not forget that Silus pulled me onto his lap and kissed me so hard every nerve in my body tingled.
It’s the memory of that kiss that keeps me up as I lay in bed, staring at a dark, cracked ceiling. I’m in my pajamas: an oversized T-shirt and fuzzy shorts with adorable kittens on them. Though I’m exhausted, I couldn’t keep the club’s uniform on. Had to tear it off me as fast as I could the moment I reached my room.
The stress of the day exhausts me, so I should have no problems at all falling asleep, but sleep doesn’t come. I end up sprawled on the bed, one foot under the covers and one foot sticking out—for temperature purposes, duh—and I replay my interaction with Silus over and over in my head.
He could’ve easily told me to fuck off, but he didn’t. He almost seemed amused when I came over to him, asking him to be my boyfriend in that moment. What would he have done if he didn’t play along? A man with power like that could’ve easily gotten me fired, and then I wouldn’t be laying here in bed while there’s a mafia boss in my house.
If this works and neither of us end up dead, I really am going to kill my brother.
