the majority of their young lives surviving on their wits alone flocked to Eamon. That made him the perfect person to run Home, the undercover orphanage Shannon founded to give kids like his brothers and himself a safe place to grow up. Everything they needed was right here on site—school, doctors, new clothes and shoes every six months. Records were often forged or bribed to make sure the boys received their diplomas; those who wanted college got a full ride as long as they kept up the grades. It was Shannon’s greatest accomplishment—one he would die to protect.
Now he was sharing it with her, with Shay.
He carried her through a hushed tour of the place more because he didn’t want to put her down than anything else. Eamon was by their side every step of the way, ready to answer any questions. And the thing was, she had questions. Lots of them. But none of them were “Why are you doing this?” or anything like that. She asked questions about their diet, their equipment, the curriculum, fucking outdoor activities. She seemed to know a shit ton about running the school portion too. Who the hell was this woman?
“Eamon, Mickey—can you give us a moment?” Shay asked softly after they went through the last room on the impromptu tour, a classroom.
Shannon didn’t set her down until after the two men had left.
“What is it, love?” he asked. Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought her here. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He had no freaking idea what she was going to say. But it mattered. Shit, it mattered so damn much!
“My name is Shay…” Shannon moaned, his chest feeling like it had been punctured with a dull spike. Was she ever going to trust— “My real name, Shannon, really is Shay. LaShay, really. LaShay Reid. My brother Jesse—”
“Ran Mattapan until he was set up by his number two and killed by a crooked copper,” Shannon supplied, stunned.
Of course, it all made sense now. Word on the street was the crazy fucker who’d betrayed his boss had an insane bounty on Jesse’s sister’s head, but no one seemed too interested in collecting. Jean-Paul Henry was not well liked because of what he’d done to Jesse. The rumor was the man had betrayed his oldest friend to get at Jesse’s sister. No one was going to trust him after that. The empire he sought to split with Junior Toussaint, the police detective that he’d sold Jesse out to, was in turmoil. Junior could never hope to hold it without street gangs doing the dirty work for him, and no one wanted any part of the duo. The toughest and most loyal seemed to be leaning towards D’Andre Carter to take Jesse’s place. He, after all, had been loyal. He was also the one Shannon had been dealing with in a combined effort to control their perspective areas and lower the rates of addiction. Junkies you would have with you always, but it could be controlled.
“Yeah, that was my brother.” A single tear traced down her cheek, causing Shannon to ache something horrible. And he thought he had hurt before! Seeing her pain—God, nothing on earth could feel worse than this. He couldn’t kill the memory that made her hurt. But by God he was damn sure going to kill the bastard that caused it. Both of them. “I ran a school there, in Mattapan. My brother funded it. But after he was killed…” Suddenly those sad eyes turned fierce. “I will never lay down with Jean-Paul. I would rather sell my body than have him touch it. That’s why I applied for the position at one of your brothels. It was the last place they’d look for me.”
Shannon nodded absently. He could see that. And he didn’t blame her at all.
“No more running, Shay.” How ironic he had dubbed her with her real name. Shay O’Shea. His brothers were going to have a field day with that, but oh fucking well. That would be her name, damn it. But first, he had some assholes to kill.
Chapter Eight
Shay heard Shannon talking to Mickey, and on the phone with his brother. Mickey had told her