Fuck it. We could dance around this, or we could just get it out in the open and see where it leads. Also, after witnessing the way she freaked back there with those guys rushing in, this whole theory of this girl being law enforcement seems pretty fucking weak. She also doesn’t have a gun. I mean what sort of fucking FBI agent doesn’t have a gun?
“Fine,” I growl, eying Gavin before I keep going. “We were in the room next to yours. That’s how we got there so fast.”
She chews on that, but I keep going.
“And we were there, and we know your name, because we were keeping an eye on you.”
She pales.
“Excuse me?” she growls. “What do you mean, keeping an eye on me?”
“Watching you,” Gavin mutters.
Her face reddens. “Uh, okay, why exactly?”
“I think you know,” he answers quietly, eyeing her with suspicion mixed with lust.
“Enlighten me,” she snaps furiously.
“Okay, stop,” I growl, stepping forward. “Enough. We’re not having this shit out in the fucking hallway,” I mutter at Gavin before turning to push the door open. I turn back to Charlotte.
“Inside, now.”
“Fuck off.”
“Look,” I growl. “Gavin and I, we’re with the Irish Syndicate, here on special assignment from Dublin to watch you.”
“Why the fuck are you watching—”
“Listen, love,” I grumble. “The facts are, some not nice fuckers were there to kill you, and we stopped them, at no small danger to us and ours. So how about we get inside the fucking apartment, yeah?”
She chews on her lip, but slowly, she nods.
“Fine,” she mutters, brushing past me and stepping into the safe house.
Gavin half-grins, shaking his head.
“Fuck me,” he mutters with a small laugh.
“Yeah,” I growl back. “This is going to be interesting.”
I follow my brother inside and lock the door before turning back to Charlotte, who’s now standing in the middle of the fairly large loft-style apartment, arms over her chest.
“Look, sorry,” she says quietly.
“For?”
“For being kind of a bitch just now,” she smiles wryly. “And thank you for before, really. I really do owe you my life, I think.”
“No problem,” Gavin says quietly as he walks across the apartment. He steps into a bedroom and comes back out, tossing me something—it’s sweatpants. I chuckle as I pull them on, liking the way Charlotte sort of gasps as I drop the hat from my cock. Gavin walks over, still bare-assed naked, and pulls on a pair himself, and he’s definitely grinning as he catches her eyeing his package too.
Pants on now, we stand before her. Charlotte’s eyes drop to my arm, and she frowns.
“Oh, Jesus, you’re bleeding.”
“It’s fine,” I shrug. “I’ll clean it in a few.”
She just shakes her head. “No, do you have a first aid kit?”
I arch a brow, and she smiles shyly. “I’m a nurse. Come on, we need to get that patched up.”
She doesn’t even wait for an answer, she just takes my hand and drags me towards the bathroom. I follow, glancing back to shrug at Gavin before she pulls me inside, half shutting the door.
“Sit,” she directs, pointing to the toilette. I close the lid and sit down as she rummages under the sink and actually does manage to pull out an old looking first aid kit. She pulls out some peroxide and a small surgical sewing kit, and she frowns.
“This, uh… this might hurt.”
“I’m a big boy.”
She blushes, biting her lip as she wets a wad of toilet paper with the peroxide and brings it up. I grit my teeth as she cleans the graze-wound from the one shot one of the guys back in the hotel was able to squeeze off. The needle is next, and she deftly sews me up in a nice clean line.
“So, those men…” she says quietly as she pulls the last loop through.
“I really don’t know who they were,” I growl.
“And you’re both, what, the mob or something?”
“Irish Syndicate.”
She swallows, biting her lip as she neatly ties off the surgical string. I frown.
“You’re really a nurse, aren’t you?”
She raises a brow. “Did you think I was lying?”
I smile. “No, but you’re not…” my eyes narrow. “You’re not with the FBI, are you?”
She snorts. “Um, what?”
I shake my head. “Figures.”
“I’m sorry, what’s going on?”
“We were watching you because you’ve been watching the interests of our bosses—poking around in affairs and businesses, talking to people in the neighborhood.”
She frowns, quickly shaking her head. “No, I’m just…” she trials off and looks away.
“What?”
“It’s nothing.”
My eyes search for hers, holding them when she finally looks at me.
“Give me something, Charlotte,” I say quietly.
“It’s still weird to me that you knew my name,” she whispers, looking into my eyes.
“Well, now you know ours.”
“And that’s your brother, you said?”
I nod.
“Are you guys twins?”
I chuckle. “Almost. Irish twins. I’m ten months older than Gavin.”
I sigh, standing and towering over her. Charlotte’s breath catches a little, and her face reddens as she looks up into my eyes.
“So?” I say gently. “Help us help you out here. It’s pretty obvious you aren’t with the FBI, so what the hell were you doing poking around—”
“I’m looking for my sister,” she blurts out suddenly.
I frown. “Why were you looking around Southie at Irish pubs and some of those other businesses?”
“Because, there were rumors that these really not good guys—” she looks down. “Irish guys, I think, who were harassing her at work. And these guys are apparently known for getting girls into drugs and then into prostitution. I was worried…” she squeezes her eyes shut, and my jaw clenches as I move into her.
“Not us, Charlotte,” I say quietly, scowling. “Our organization doesn’t have shit to do with stuff like that. No girls, no pimping, none of that shit.”
She looks up and half-smiles. “Well, that’s good to hear. So, I’m not with the FBI…”
I chuckle. “Also, good to hear.”
“And you’re not pimping out my sister or trying to hurt me.”
“Not in the slightest. But you poking around coincided with one of our own disappearing—a good lad named Ash.”
She nods, frowning and looking down as she cleans up the needle and washes her hands in the sink.
“Sorry about your friend,” she says quietly.
“We’ll find him,” I growl.
She nods again. “So, you had me under surveillance?”
“We didn’t know if you were with law enforcement or not,” I growl quietly. “It had to be done.”
She swallows, avoiding my eyes.
“So, like, what kind of surveillance?”