Free Inked Destiny by Jory Strong Page A

worshipers.”
    That gained her the sharp, quick feel of teeth. “One worshiper, Etaín.”
    “At the risk of ruining the mood…”
    “Don’t say his name.”
    “We’re still pretending we’re a normal couple?”

Seven

    C athal grimaced at the irony of the pretense a short while later as he handed the drawings to Etaín’s father, knowing he’d pay a visit to his own before returning home.
    “She should see a doctor to make sure there’s no damage,” the captain said, both hands on the rolled sketches, as if keeping them there was necessary to his self-control.
    “I’ll mention it to her.” And then, because he knew the estrangement hurt her, and her involvement with him only added to it he said, “I’m not my father or uncle.”
    “You made my daughter an accessory to murder.”
    It would always come back to that, though he wasn’t foolish enough to respond and incriminate himself, his family, or her.
    “Good night,” he said, turning away.
    “If you really love her, you’d get out of her life and stay out of it.”
    “That’s not possible.” He didn’t slow or look back, and in his car, he called ahead, to let his father know he intended to visit.
    When he arrived, they went to his father’s office, the only place in the house where his father would speak freely.
    “What brings you here? I’m surprised you’re not with Etaín.” His father poured himself a drink. Cathal declined the silent offer of one.
    “She’s at my place. You’ve heard about what happened in Oakland?”
    “Hard not to. It’s the only thing on the news.”
    “There was a survivor.”
    “Dead now, according to the news.”
    “I was in the ICU when it happened.”
    “The cops asked for Etaín’s help?”
    “Yes. I dropped the sketches off at her father’s place a few minutes ago.”
    “Who’d have thought my son would be making nice with Captain Chevenier. We go back a ways, he and I. When he was still a green cop he thought he’d make his bones by catching me in a sting operation. It didn’t go well for him, though I’ve got no hard feelings toward him, neither does your uncle.”
    Cathal felt sure the same couldn’t be said for Etaín’s father. “You know anything the cops don’t about the hit in Oakland?”
    “That my son, now interested in joining the family business asking? Or my son, who’s involved with a cop’s daughter?”
    “Etaín knew some of the people who got killed. She intends to ask questions, to do what she can to find answers.”
    “Could be dangerous to her health.”
    “Any more dangerous than getting involved with the Dunnes?”
    His father shrugged.
    Cathal pressed, “You know anything about the bar invasion, Dad?”
    His father took a long drink from the glass in his hand, finally saying, “Drugs would be my guess. I can’t say more than that, Cathal.”
    Can’t , or won’t . Gut-sick and unable to stop himself, he asked, “Are you involved in what went down?”
    His father’s eyebrows lifted. “No. I’ll even swear it if that’ll make you feel better.”
    Cathal believed him. “One other thing, Dad, I’m going to marry her.”
    “I figured that might be in the cards. What about Eamon? I could have him taken out of the picture, permanently. Call it a wedding gift.”
    The offer chilled him, but not in the way it once would have. It’d be his father who ended up dead if he tried it, maybe his uncle as well.
    “Stay out of it. The same way I stay out of your affairs.”
    He meant it literally, felt the anger rise on behalf of his mother, though for all he knew, she turned a blind eye to the existence of her husband’s mistresses, women who came and went and didn’t enjoy the same wealth or status she did.
    His father lifted his glass in silent acknowledgement of the threat. Cathal rose. “I’ll see myself out.”
    “No.” His father set the drink down and accompanied Cathal to the door, surprising him by saying, “I’ll make some inquiries. I’ve got