I’d been given shitty jobs before, had accepted shitty jobs, even. I’d done it knowing they’d be shitty right from the start, and I’d done them anyway.

Yeah, I had my lines. Even for men like me, there were lines. For a lot of us, anyway. For some, there were no lines. But I had them, and they were clear as day.

On one side of the line, there were jobs I’d take. On the other, jobs I wouldn’t.

Even on the side of the jobs I’d take, though, there were some shitty things I’d done, and there was no denying it.

There had even been a time when a local drug dealer had told me he needed me to watch this girl the dealer had dated in high school. He claimed he was concerned the woman was working with the cops and trying to set him up.

It had been nothing more than a big, fat, fucking waste of time, and I’d ended up being the focus of the cops—exactly the way the asshole dealer had planned. The cops had sort of been watching her, but then I showed up, and they focused on me, and he slipped his old sweetheart out of the area.

Stupid me for not figuring it out.

Oddly enough, I got it now.

People did crazy things when their emotions were involved.

Maybe even lie to the people they cared about. It was something I’d never understood before, how people could twist themselves into knots over the feelings of others.

I sure as fuck understood now.

My nerves were shot, and I couldn’t keep my attention on the conversation, on anything as I roamed the house and checked the windows and watched the grounds. I felt like an attack might come from any given direction, and until I heard from Marcos that things were done and settled—that it was over—I wouldn’t feel better.

Over.

I wanted to punch myself in the head.

When would this be over?

I’d given Marcos information on these people.

Oh, they were neck-deep in some dirty shit, and there was no denying that. Not that I’d caught them in anything. But I knew this life, inside and out. I’d been living it for years, even for months before I’d run away from home. I’d been a grunt then, but even as a stupid teenager, I’d been roughing people up for money, keeping a bit of it on the sly and turning the rest over to whoever hired me.

But the Downings weren’t like the Castellanos.

I’d only ever worked for the brothers. I hadn’t met Basilio and had no idea what he was like. Of the two brothers, I could say that, without a doubt, Marcos was the more dangerous. His older brother was colder, likely more lethal, but Marcos was…unpredictable, and he played by a rule book neither his father or brother were aware of.

I had no doubt that if the other two Castellanos became aware of how uncontrollable Marcos had become, they’d take steps to rein him in. I probably should reach out to them, but it was possible they wouldn’t believe me. It was also possible they’d decide to eliminate me out of loyalty to him, even if they did realize they needed to get him under control. It was also possible they’d do nothing.

I couldn’t risk it.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

The feminine voice, tone challenging, caught my attention, and I looked up to find Isabel Castellanos—no, Isabel Downing—watching me from just a few feet away. Something about the look in her eyes put me on edge, but I kept my expression neutral as I met her gaze. “It’s a party. What’s not to enjoy?”

“A party.” She offered me a sharp-edged smile. “Sure. Food. Good booze.”

I glanced at the glass she held in her hand. It was mostly empty, and something told me that she wasn’t partaking the way just about everybody else was. “Can’t knock good booze. Would you like me to get you another drink?”

“I’m fine.”

Unless it was my imagination, her mouth tightened slightly, and she paled.

But her expression smoothed and cleared in the next moment, and she gave me a brilliant smile.

“You know, you look really familiar to me.” She wagged a finger at me, a bright, charming smile on her face.

I took extreme care not to react. I couldn’t afford it.

I’d seen Isabel Castellanos once or twice. Always at a distance. And that wasn’t including the times I’d seen her picture—always with her brothers or parents. Marcos only had a few personal photos at his house in Miami, but I’d seen them nonetheless.

But the pictures weren’t the issue.

The issue—or the issues—were the parties where I’d seen his sister. Giving her a noncommittal look, I studied her over the rim of my class. “That right? I can’t say that you look at all familiar to me, Isabel. Well, except for when we met here.”

“Really?” She gave me a wide-eyed look. “You don’t think it’s possible we rubbed shoulders or anything? I mean, Briar told me you’re from Miami. That’s where my family is from.”

Fuck. Just how much had Briar told her?

I had no idea, but I somehow doubted she’d told her sister-in-law that I’d been hired by somebody in her sister-in-law’s family. That just seemed…foolish. And Briar wasn’t foolish.

“Really?” I tossed back the rest of my whiskey and put the glass down, giving Isabel my full attention, my face fixed in a curious, interested expression. “Somehow I don’t think we run in the same circles. What part of Miami are you from?”

She arched a brow. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Isabel tossed her head back, laughing.

The sound was bright and cheery.

I wondered if I was the only one who heard the sharp edge under it.

Briar and Sean glanced toward us, but nobody else did. I had to assume nobody else heard that brittle note in her laughter.

Finally, her laughter faded, and she looked back at me with a glittering stare. “Briar never told you my maiden name?”

“I can’t say she did,” I told her, shaking my head and pretending to be confused.

“It’s Castellanos.”

I squinted my eyes for a second as I pretended to think. Then, with a grin, I nodded. “Your brothers run some clubs down there, don’t they?”

That clearly wasn’t the response she had been expecting because she pursed her lips, studying me for a long moment. “Yes.”

I expected her to say something else, but she just turned on her heel and strode off.

Keeping a casual eye on her, I went to refill my glass.

She went and spoke to Sean in a low voice, and by the time I’d topped off my scotch, Isabel had slid out of the room.

Sean wasn’t far behind her.

I might have heaved out a sigh of relief, except I caught sight of Briar.

She smiled…and headed straight for me.

I woke up to the ringing of my phone.

It was an incessant, annoying sound, and I was tempted to throw it across the room.

If that didn’t shut the fucking thing up, I’d get up and smash the damn piece of shit until it was nothing but broken bits of plastic and wire.

It was quiet.

Five minutes later, it started up again.

Swearing, I grabbed it and went to throw it. And stopped. I made the mistake of looking at the screen of the latest piece-of-shit throwaway phone I’d picked up.

Two days ago, I’d contacted Marcos from this particular cell.

I’d scrambled the number, and he’d known I’d done it—had even commented on it.

I’d given him the same prattle, then added on that Jerrel had been a pain in my arse, and I’d just as soon avoid him so I wouldn’t be using my old number until I knew it was safe enough to do so.

The fucker had tracked me down anyway.

I could have avoided that. I’d known this was a possibility, but I’d decided against taking the more complete evasive tactics because I’d feared it might tip him off if I completely dropped off the grid, especially since he had people who could locate Briar at the blink of an eye.

The anger burned hot inside me as he greeted me in an overly cheerful voice. “Feliz Navidad, Cormac!”

“Same to you, Marcos. I guess.”

“What do you mean, you guess? It’s a beautiful Christmas Day. We even have some snow outside.”

I flicked a disinterested look at the window. The snow had started falling not long after we’d left Seamus’s house, so the news came as no surprise.

“I’m not much on holidays, Marcos.”

“How about bonuses, my friend?” he asked. “Are you much on bonuses?”

My ears sharpened. “What do you mean?”

“You gave me good intel. A team of my men broke into one of Seamus Downing’s smaller businesses in Philadelphia. We also raided one of the new businesses he’s established down in Miami,” he added slyly. “We helped ourselves to close to a million dollars worth of weapons. A nice haul for a few hours of work.”

“Alright, then,” I said, forcing a note of satisfaction into my voice. “How did it go down?”

“Well enough.” Marcos sounded unconcerned as he added, “I lost a few men. There were more guards on the building than I would have expected after you said they wouldn’t have many employees around, but I was prepared. You did, after all, warn me that they kept extra security on hand.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I fought to level my breathing so he wouldn’t hear anything that might tip him off.

“Guess your guys took some of their people out.”

“Nearly all of them,” Marcos said, unhidden glee in his voice. “We took down ten of their stupid fuckers in Philadelphia, and six down here. I’m giving an extra thousand a head for each of their men.”

“What?”

His malevolent chuckle drifted over the line. “You earned it. Seamus Downing is such a soft fucker. He gets attached to his men. One of them had been with him for over twenty years. We got both the old man and his grandson. This will hurt him.”

I felt a little sick. Passing a hand over my eyes, I fought to level out before responding.

I had time, though.

Marcos wasn’t done.

“I’m going to take my time before I let him know who was responsible, of course. But I might send flowers to their funerals.” He laughed again. “Perhaps I’ll include a message. What should it say, Cormac?”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something appropriate,” I said in a weary voice as I stared at the thick pile of carpet under my feet.

I suddenly wanted to see Briar. I wanted it so badly I hurt with it.

“Yes,” Marcos murmured. “I will. It’s too bad I’m not sure I’m done with you yet. Otherwise, I’d just put your name to the card, along with the words…Sorry you’re such a stupid fuck, Seamus. I think he’d get the point then. Don’t you?”

The red wash of blood flooded my vision.

“I’m sure he would.” Clenching my fist, I squeezed my eyes closed until the dull roar of rage ebbed back enough for me to think.

I had to think right now.

I had to stay calm.

There were too many lives on the line. If Marcos realized I no longer gave a flying fuck about his money—or this job—he’d make a move, and the first person he’d go after?

Briar.

So I had to keep it together.

“You know, you didn’t have to come up here.”

I met her eyes over the cafeteria table.

Considering it was Christmas Day, the place was a lot more crowded than I would have expected.

And the scent of food was a lot more appealing than I would have thought.

She’d dragged me through the line, nagging me to try this and that, and now, plates loaded down with roast turkey, potatoes, gravy, and green beans, we sat across from each other in a public space.

What I wanted to do was have her some place to myself so I could touch her, hold her.

“What’s the look for?” she asked as she scooped up a bite of potatoes.

“Just enjoying the look of you,” I said, giving myself an extra few seconds to really take in her pretty face.

She blushed.

I’d never tire of seeing her blush, the way it started out low on her neck, then spread upward until her face glowed a subtle pink.

“Stop it,” she mumbled with a roll of her eyes.

“Well, you asked,” I told her pragmatically.

She made a snorting sound under her breath as she reached for her soda. “What have you done today?”

“Slept in and wished you were with me,” I told her with a quick shrug.

Her face softened.

“I had a good time last night.” I lowered my attention to my food. This part wasn’t as easy. I was a good liar when it came to the job, but this part…it wasn’t the job, and I didn’t do real emotion well. Clearing my throat, I stabbed a bite of turkey and shoved it into my mouth. It actually tasted pretty good, although I knew it would be like sawdust in my belly once I swallowed. “With your family, I mean. How are they? You talked to them any today?”

“Not much.”

From under my lashes, I saw her shrug, her head lowered as she scooped up another bite of food. “Daria and Brooks texted to say Merry Christmas, and so did Dad. Knowing Declan, Isabel, and Sean, they’ll sleep in until two or three.”

Throat dry, I reached for my soda and took a drink.

She glanced at me, a careful, neutral look on her face. “Did you call your parents?”

“I…ah…” Self-conscious now, I took a second drink, then a third. “Actually, yeah. But they were on their way out the door. They’ve started helping out at a local shelter on Christmas. Serving up lunch and the like. They asked me to call back later tonight.”

“Will you?”

At her softly voiced question, I found myself at odds. I wanted to call back. But here I was, putting this woman I cared for in a bad position, whether she knew it or not. My mum would box my ears. I had no idea what my da would do.

I was ashamed of myself.

If I could have found any other way out of this…

“Cormac?”

Setting my jaw, I met her eyes. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided.”

“If you want to wait until I’m home…”

I offered a tight smile. “Yeah,” I told her. “Maybe.”

But that wouldn’t make it any easier.

If anything, it would make it harder.