Liam: Branded Brothers (16 page)

To hell with the checklist
. She didn’t need it
anyway. She folded it back up and shoved it into her purse. As she leaned over
to turn up the radio, the muffled melody of her phone rang. She fumbled through
her purse on the passenger seat to find it, catching it on the last ring.

“Jill.” Charla couldn’t help smiling. She knew her friend
was going to love what she was about to tell her.

“Where have you been?” Jill demanded. Charla could envision
her in the locker room at the gym, wearing her skin-tight workout gear with her
hands on her hips. She was most likely standing on the scale or watching
herself do squats in the mirror.

“Out,” she replied lightly. She knew Jill wasn’t going to
let her go this easy, but it would be fun to listen to her squirm.

“Did you sleep with him?” Her voice bounced up and down.

“Are you doing squats?”

“Yes,” Jill replied, clearly flustered. “But that doesn’t
matter. Answer my question.”

“Maybe,” she said, letting her voice draw out. “Maybe not.”

“Oh my God, you did. How was it?” Jill asked. “Tell me it
was better than Rex.”

Charla paused, not responding at first. Torturing Jill was
amusing.

“Tell me something. Anything. Are you taking the drive of
shame?” She sputtered.

Charla finally let out a laugh. “It’s definitely not a drive
of shame. I have nothing to be ashamed about. And by the way, who’s Rex?”

“Oh, Charla. I’m so happy for you. I feel like a proud
mama,” Jill said in a high-pitched voice that leveled off. Charla smiled at the
thought of making Jill so proud she could stop doing squats while they talked.

“I’ll tell you more about it later,” she replied. “I’ve got
some stuff I have to do, but I will tell you it was amazing.”

“YES!” Jill yelled. “Exactly what you needed.”

“Exactly,” she repeated. “By the way, I saw both Dotti and
Rex yesterday to cap my day off.”

“Come on,” Jill groaned. “Are you serious? How did that
happen?”

“Dotti at Goodwill and Rex at a strip club.”

“WHAT?” Jill exclaimed. “What in the hell -”

“I know, I know. There’s so much to cover, but I know you’re
in the middle of working out, so we can talk more later. About that…” Charla
started. She knew Jill would have no problem with it, but she felt like she was
imposing on Aaron. He was a structured kind of guy so he didn’t exactly thrive
on the chaos of letting someone crash on his couch for a few days. “I was
wondering if I could stay with you for a few days. You think Aaron will mind?”

“Absolutely, you can stay with us. And who gives a shit if
Aaron minds. It’s just a few days. He could use a little upheaval in his life
in the form of a couch crasher,” Jill replied. “I love the man, but he can be a
tight-ass about that kind of stuff. Is there something going on at the
cottage?”

“Well, not exactly,” she hesitated. She couldn’t possibly
get into everything with Jill right now. She’d overreact and send them both
into a panic. Charla wasn’t worried yet, anyway. The whole mafia thing still
seemed far-fetched, but she figured she better be safe than sorry. Everything
would blow over in a few days, and then she could finish packing up Jack’s
place and get it on the market.

“Is it the nightmares?” Jill whispered.

“I’d just feel more comfortable staying at your place for a
few days. Three nights tops,” Charla replied. “It should give me enough time to
find a place of my own.”

“Whatever you need,” she replied. “Before I go, tell me
something about Liam I should know. Something to tide me over until I can hear
more. You know, it’s not every day you come across an Irish Bounty Hunter.”

Charla paused, thinking about all the things that drove her
wild about Liam. There was the cooking, the wicked smile, the way he got what
he wanted, the sweet touch of his lips, the tattoos…

“Oh God, Charla. You’re falling for him pretty hard, aren’t
you?” Jill added.

“Maybe,” she replied, feeling her face flush. “He’s got
these amazing tattoos. They’re so intricate, so detailed. Every single one has
a story, and it’s both beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. He’s got
this one over his heart that has these interlocking circles. It’s the Celtic
symbol for family.”

“Huh,” Jill said, her voice trailing off. “That’s the best
thing about him? His tattoos?”

“Do you want me to go on?” She laughed. “Because I can, but
you’re going to be doing lunges in no time.”

“You said circles over his heart?” Jill asked.

“Yeah, something like that.” Charla flicked on her directional
and turned into the grocery store parking lot. She hadn’t done what she was
about to do in a long time, but something about Liam searching for his family
gave her a sudden urge.

“Must be a popular thing,” Jill replied. “Anyway, I gotta
get going. Cycling starts in five minutes.”

“What do you mean? A popular thing?” Charla parked the
Corolla and turned off the engine.

“Oh, there’s a guy at the gym who has something like it, but
it’s all faded and small. I was surprised he even had a tattoo at all.” Jill
laughed. “He’s a software geek. Developed some app or something and is filthy
rich.”

“What’s his name? Is he young?” Charla held her hands on the
key, her heart pounding as she waited for the answer.

“Paul something. I don’t know his last name. Probably in his
early twenties. Bastard’s set for life. Why?”

“Oh,” Charla replied, dropping her hand off the keys and
grabbing her purse. “Just thought it might be someone else.”

“Well, whatever. Stop by the gym later so you can pick up my
keys to get into the house. Aaron won’t be home until later. Gotta go.”

Charla pulled the phone from her ear and held it in her lap.
What were the odds another guy would have the same tattoo over his chest? The
fact it was faded and small could mean he never had it touched up, but Liam had
definitely said his name was Brody, not Paul. But he fit the bill: tattoo and
in his early twenties. Both Liam and Ronan had the right names, but maybe…

Name change
, Charla thought. His parents could have
changed his name. Maybe they didn’t like the name Brody. If Liam was four,
Brody must have been one. They could have easily changed his name. She shuffled
her phone in her hand, wanting to call Liam right away. But she decided against
it until she knew more about Paul from Jill. She threw her phone in the purse
and swung it over her shoulder, feeling a real possibility she had found Liam’s
last brother.

She looked up at the store through her windshield and
exhaled. Getting groceries for Dotti would be a thankless task, but it was a
good excuse to drop by and leave the card with her. She would leave it on her
front steps, like she always did and slink away without being noticed.

Charla couldn’t give up on Dotti.

***

Liam sat on a bench in Hawthorne
Park and watched the little hand throw bread crumbs over the bridge. The ducks
flapped their wings and clamored down below in the water, fighting for the
crumbs.
Survival of the fittest
. The battle happened everywhere, between
all walks of life. Only the strongest survived, and Liam was hell-bent being on
top. After reading Jack’s letter, nothing was going to stop him from finding
out what really happened to his biological parents. Someone had answers, and he
would do whatever he needed to do to find those answers.

The woman next to the boy on the bridge bent down and placed
another lump in his waiting hand. He tossed it over, the ducks fighting down
below again. Then she ruffled his hair, took his hand and turned to go. He felt
a pang in his heart at the sight, thinking of Genevieve. When they had gotten
married, they both agreed they wanted kids, not just when they were kids
themselves. They had agreed to holding off until Liam was done with service,
but over one of his returns three years later, Genevieve had gotten pregnant.
They’d both been thrilled with the news, and Liam left again on tour eight
weeks later. He’d found out while he was in Afghanistan that she miscarried.
Completely
normal, a natural process
, Genevieve had reiterated her doctor’s words. It
was survival of the fittest. They’d been devastated but agreed to try again the
next time around. Except when Liam returned, Genevieve’s mind had changed. She
didn’t want anything to do with being pregnant or having kids. She was done.
Liam closed his eyes, remembering the conversation. It had broken his heart,
but he figured she’d come around, it would only take a little time. Genevieve
never came around. Instead, when he came home for good, she served him divorce
papers.

Now she was married, and it was more than time to move on.
Charla
Taylor could be the ticket
. He thought of her naked silhouette against his
sheets. It was a sight he wanted to remember forever. She was beautiful and
kind and witty as hell. He hadn’t planned on sleeping with her last night. He’d
actually wanted to savor that tension between them. He wanted to get to know
her better, find out what made her tick. But he couldn’t help himself last
night. He needed her and not because he thought she’d tell him about Jack. That
was an unexpected bonus. Liam hadn’t slept with anyone since Genevieve, not
that he couldn’t have and not that he didn’t come close. But every time there
was a naked girl in his bed, he couldn’t push past the memory of his ex-wife.
With Charla, he didn’t think of Genevieve once. In fact, Genevieve’s face
seemed a little blurry in his mind this morning.

Charla could be exactly what he needed. He took one glance
around him and then flipped open the envelope from Jerry. He was surprised to
hear everything she’d told him about Jack’s story this morning, but not
shocked. Jack hadn’t explained all the details of his disappearance in the
letter, but there were enough inferences to make Liam think there was more to
the family history. And there was enough information to lead Liam back to the
cottage to get what Jack left behind. Liam locked that up with his guns.

It made it only more interesting that Jerry dropped the
envelope in his hand last night with Mickey McGrath’s information. Coincidence,
maybe. But most likely not. Mickey somehow must have got word Jack died. He
wasn’t sure how much Mickey knew, but he’d get to him first.

“You’re here.” Jerry’s voice sounded behind him.

“I am,” Liam replied, not turning toward him. Jerry walked
around the bench and sat down next to him.

“I didn’t think you’d come. I thought Charla would talk you
out of it,” Jerry started. “Women have that effect on men. Make them see things
in a fog. You just meet her?”

“Yeah.” Liam nodded his head. He didn’t know how much he
wanted to get into it with Jerry. If he told him too much, he might not think
he was the right guy for the job.

“Good,” Jerry said. “Maybe she’ll help you get over that
ex-wife of yours.”

“Yeah, yeah. What else do you have for me?”

“He’s been hanging around The Blarney Stone, which has some
old history and ties back to Boston. The word is that he’s only going to be in
town for the next two days, if that. Apparently he has some business here,
which is hard to believe. Who has business in Blackwell?” Jerry shook his head.
“Anyway, he’s got three guys with him at all times. They’re younger, maybe in
their late twenties. Two big guys, one smaller. They pack heavy.”

“Any chance at getting him alone?” Liam asked.

“Doubt it,” he replied. “Guys like him don’t go it alone.”

“Even in Blackwell?”

“Even here. He’s keeping a low profile so I don’t think the
FBI knows he’s here yet. And to be honest, once they get tipped off, I think
he’ll be gone. We’re going to have one shot at this guy, and that’s it. I’ve
got the names of my guys…” Jerry dug into his jacket pocket.

“I don’t need it yet,” Liam said, holding out his hand to
stop him. “Give me one more day.”

“You don’t have one more day. You have today. Get your guys
together and scope out the bar. You need a plan. A careful, well-executed plan
to take a guy like this down,” Jerry said. “You can’t go in there and expect to
take him down like any of the addicts around here. God, kid.”

Liam turned toward Jerry, studying his flushed face and hard
eyes. He’d never seen Jerry get so wound up before and it made him wonder what
Jerry was in it for. Sure, the money was great, but shit, Jerry drove a Pontiac
and lived in a thirty-old ranch on the outside of Blackwell by himself. Liam
knew Jerry could afford more. Hell, he probably had a stockpile of cash
somewhere. “Jerry, why do you want me to do this job so bad?”

“I told you last night, kid. You’re the best one for the
job,” Jerry replied, running a hand through his hair.

“Jerry, why do you want me to do this job?” Liam pressed
again.

“Because you’re the best one for the job,” he repeated. “I
don’t trust the other guys like I trust you.”

“That’s it?” Liam asked with skepticism. He knew there was
more to it. There had to be.

“That’s it. But I need you to get a team…” Jerry started.

“What do you know about Jack Davis?” Liam interrupted.

“Never heard of the guy,” he replied matter-of-fact, shaking
his head. “Why, what’s it to you?”

Liam stared at Jerry, knowing he was hiding something. He
could see it in his eyes. That’s where secrets were always buried, in the eyes.

“I found out he was my biological father,” Liam replied. “He
died a couple days ago. Had Alzheimer’s. That’s how I met Charla. She was his
in-home caregiver. She delivered a note from him.”

“She must have a heart of gold,” Jerry replied.

“Oh, yeah?” Liam asked.

“Can’t be easy caring for someone with Alzheimer’s. I hear
it’s a tough disease. Really strips everything from you,” Jerry replied,
wringing his hands together. “Get a team together, kid.”