Mafia King (Young Irish Rebels #2) - Vi Carter Page 0,56
the side of the bed, holding a glass of water and some white tablets.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I ask, but I know I’m being stupid. I take the painkillers and the glass of water.
Shay moves away, and I can’t stop staring at his wide back. His shoulder blades move up and down as he moves to the tray.
“I don’t cook,” he states, and I swear I hear something vulnerable in his words. “It’s just toast and egg.”
The tray is lowered, and I recognize the toast. But the egg is almost black and lumpy. I pick up the fork and poke at it.
“Are you sure it’s dead?”
I glance up at Shay. His serious expression has me thinking he’s pissed over my statement.
“I have to go out for a few hours.”
My stomach hollows.
“There’s a gym and other rooms you can go check out.” I’m still holding the fork in one hand and the glass of water in the other. My knife rests in my lap.
I don’t want him to leave. “Where are you going?”
“A lead I need to check up on.” He turns away from me.
“Is it about your brother or something else?” I ask.
Shay drags a white t-shirt on, covering all his tanned skin. He doesn’t answer me. I place the water on the bedside table and the fork on the tray.
I watch as he gets dressed. Once he’s fully clothed, he faces me. “Don’t leave the apartment.”
I pick up a slice of toast and take a bite once he leaves. I listen to the steady drum of my heart until the door closes. He’s gone.
I chew the toast slowly, but I don’t attempt the egg.
Shay is gone for ages, and I get dressed in one of his t-shirts and my jeans. The gym is impressive; it must be the same size as the drawing-room. I exhale loudly as I just stare around the room. I couldn’t relax here. I couldn’t relax anywhere with Shay. I’ve searched the apartment twice looking for a phone, but there isn’t one or a laptop or any device that would allow me to connect with the outside world. The TVs all work, and I flick through the endless stream of channels. A distant knock has me turning off the TV and throwing the remote on the couch. Was he back? I leave the sitting room as another knock comes from the front door.
I take two steps toward it and pause. Shay had said not to leave the apartment. He never mentioned not answering the door.
“Hello.” The voice that comes through sends my heart rate skyrocketing, and I’m moving to the door.
I open it, tempted to greet Lucian as Chief Commandant or Mr. Sheahan. Either seems odd, but I don't have to say anything as he speaks first.
“Emma.” My name sounds funny on his lips, and I wonder why it should until I remember why, I’m Emily. Not Emma.
“Emily,” I correct, but give a slight bow of my head, so he knows I don’t mean any disrespect.
His gaze narrows intentionally, and a grin plays on his lips. He is wearing a gray suit, and his hands are held behind his back. He looks regal, like someone who belonged to a time of kings and queens.
“No, I had it correct the first time. Emma.”
My stomach plummets into my shoes. He knows who I am.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EMMA
“Mr. Sheahan…” I start, and he steps into Shay’s apartment.
“It appears we both know the other.” His hands are placed behind his back, and once he moves across the threshold, I see the other two men standing outside, both dressed in black, both mean-looking.
“I’m Emily,” I say it stronger and turn to Lucian. “I’m sorry for the confusion.” The smile on my lips trembles and dissolves as Lucian keeps walking down the hall.
“Emma Murphy. The daughter of Red Murphy.”
I’m following him while glancing over my shoulder at the open door. The two men haven’t entered, but their gazes follow me as I chase after Lucian. He stops outside the bedroom, and my heart leaps into my throat as he picks up my knife off the unmade bed. He turns and gives me a soft smile before placing the knife in his pocket.
“You came with nothing else?”
His question I answer with a shake of my head.
“Where are the clothes you wore yesterday?”
My throat tightens, and I’m listening for footsteps behind me over the roar of blood in my ears. “In the bathroom.”