Inflict: A Novel

Chapter Fourteen

Evelyn nodded, already reaching for the top and brassier she had tossed aside earlier. Connor didn't bother to pack up his kit, figuring his uninvited guest had already been made to wait long enough. He only got a peek at the man waiting outside and he realized instantly why they had been so feckin' persistent.

Killian.

Connor opened the door, letting his friend step inside, before closing and locking it behind him. He didn't miss how Killian had looked over his shoulder before entering.

"Took you feckin' long enough," his friend muttered.

"I was busy."

"Riding that broad, I suspect."

Connor didn't even think about it, simply reacted. It wasn't a particularly hard punch, and he still had the latex gloves on, but it was strong enough that when it connected with Killian's jaw, the man's head snapped back a good three inches. Sometimes, a hit was a better warning than any sort of spoken word.

Killian flexed his jaw and rubbed the spot with his hands before passing Connor a wary glance. "My apologies."

"I'll accept it only because I didn't have to demand it."

"It's been a rough day."

Connor cocked a brow. "It better, otherwise you're just a cunt."

"Your arsehole father has been making his rounds. Said he showed up at my place first, but I wasn't home. He found me at the pub downtown making a pickup. Had a bunch of feckin' questions about you, and where you've been these last months. He was asking if you had any ladies around you lately, shite like that. Thought you might want to know."

Well, then ...

Connor pulled the latex gloves off and stuffed them in his pocket. "Is that all?"

"Basically. He gave me the indication I wasn't the first person he had spoken to."

Wonderful.

"Connor?" Evelyn called out from behind him. "Is something wrong?"

He passed her a look over his shoulder, seeing she was fully dressed again and seeming concerned over his conversation. "Everything is grand, love. Why don't you go make some tea?"

She nodded, and then gave Killian a hesitant smile.

He returned it, though not quite as wide. "Afternoon, Evelyn."

"Do you want some tea, too, Killian?"

"He's leaving," Connor said before his friend could answer.

"Oh. All right, then."

Killian didn't speak until Evelyn was gone from the hallway. "You need to handle your father."

"I'm aware."

"Soon."

"And then what?" Connor asked sharply. "Put a giant target on me arse because his feckin' bastards and the other gobshites he has working with him come after me?"

Killian sighed. "Then you'll have to take care of them, too. You know, when the time comes."

"Now you're walking a line I don't even want to talk about, Killian."

"It's better than leaving yourself open to future problems."

"It's also taking control of men and an organization I don't want," Connor half-snarled.

"Her or him," Killian said, turning to grab the doorknob and open the door. "That's what it really comes down to in the end, Connor. We know he's looking for her, though we might not know why just yet. But it's her or it's him. The rest is details. And details don't feckin' matter."