Dangerous Innocence: Chapter 18

Lorcan stopped beside me and bent down for a very long, very dirty kiss that had my cheeks blasting with heat when he finally pulled back. Everyone’s attention was on us now. I had to stifle a smug smile at the stunned looks on the girls’ faces.

“I’m here to help. Now let’s hurry. I have actual business to attend to.” Lorcan took my hand and tugged me past the girls in front of me.

“Hey!”

“Even if you’re her manager that doesn’t give you the right to cut the line!”

Lorcan gave the girls a harsh smile. “A word of advice. Kittens should keep their claws in when playing with a tiger.”

They blinked and he pulled me farther up the stairs, through a door and into a waiting room that was also filled with waiting girls. The woman behind the reception counter rose to her feet and immediately shook her head. “That’s not how it works!”

“You’re obviously new here, so I’m going to cut you some slack.” Lorcan pushed us past the waiting girls, and he leaned over the counter. “Get Greg. Tell him he needs to talk to my wife.”

The woman still shook her head, completely aghast. “Greg is busy, and if you don’t leave right now, I’ll call the police.”

Lorcan chuckled. The woman reached for the phone on her desk, but Lorcan rammed a knife through the screen, splintering it.

“Greg can suck dick later. Tell him Lorcan is here. He’ll make time. Now.”

My face burned in shame, but I held my head high as if I was used to this. I didn’t come here to play nice. I came here to succeed, and if that required using Lorcan’s very effective scare tactics then so be it. I’d just confess everything to Gulliver and ask him to absolve me. It had worked for the Devaneys for years, so it should work for me now too.

The woman was frozen in place. A door down the hall opened, and a man with intricately styled hair, a pink blazer and sneakers with sparkling glass shards all over them walked out. His hair was died blue, but the pale tint of his skin and his freckles told me he was Irish. I just knew it without a single word out of his mouth.

“Greg,” Lorcan said.

Greg’s eyes widened comically. He looked at his receptionist, cleared his throat, then said, “It’s okay, Masha. I’ll handle it.”

He waved Lorcan and me toward the room and ordered the rest of his team outside. He scanned me with a small frown. “I do everything I can to make you happy, Lorcan, but I need very tall girls for my upcoming show.”

I laughed. “I don’t want to be a model.”

Greg glanced between Lorcan and me. “I paid what I owe. You know I’ll pay the rest after this show. It’ll be a success. The critics love my new collection, and I have so many new girls under contract. It’s amazing.”

“Greg’s the owner of this agency but also a budding fashion designer. A fox to guard the henhouse.”

“I’m gay. These girls don’t have to sleep with me to be successful.”

“Wasted chance, if you ask me.”

I wasn’t sure if they were teasing each other. Greg definitely held a great deal of respect for Lorcan, even fear, but there was something more … as if they had known each other for a long time.

“What can I do for you if you’re not here to make this girl a model?”

“This girl is my wife, and I’d like to keep her sexy body to myself.”

I blushed furiously, but Greg nodded.

Lorcan motioned for me to speak. I cleared my throat, surprised he was letting me handle the conversation. With him present, I wasn’t sure how successful it would be anyway. People would always choose their answers wisely as not to offend Lorcan and his gang.

I pulled Imogen’s photo from my purse and handed it to Greg. “That’s my sister, Imogen. She came to New York about two months ago to work as a model. She’s tall and slim. She’s exactly what you’d want in a runway model.”

Greg narrowed his eyes in thought. “I see hundreds of girls every month, but I think I remember her. She came without an appointment. She didn’t have a good portfolio. My assistant told her to get new photos with one of the photographers we work with and return with better pictures.”

“But that’s expensive, right? Imogen didn’t have any money.”

Greg shrugged. “Most girls who come to New York to become a model don’t have money. They work hard. Some get sponsors. There are many old men who like a beautiful young woman by their side and in their bed in exchange for money.”

I swallowed. “Like an escort service?”

Greg glanced at Lorcan who answered, “There are escort agencies in Sodom, but girls can meet sponsors without a middleman at the Doom Loop too. More risk, more money.”

“Did Imogen return? With new photos? A new portfolio?”

Greg pursed his lips. “Let me see. I have a huge heap of new applications on my desk. Between the upcoming show and the casting call, I haven’t had a chance to look at them yet. But if your sister really wanted to work for me, she should be here today.”

I followed Greg toward his desk. There were at least fifty folders piled on the sleek glass furniture. Greg browsed through them, then held one up. “Here.”

He opened it and showed me photos of Imogen. There were headshots, bikini and underwear photos, beach photos, and a few black and white images. They were stunning. She was stunning. They weren’t from her time in Ireland. She must have let a photographer shoot her here.

“She picked Laurence as her photographer. Good but an expensive choice. I would have invited her for a fitting with this new portfolio. If you find her, you can tell her I want to see her.”

“Do you know when she brought this portfolio in?”

Greg picked up the phone. “Jo, can you come over?”

A bearded man with fake lashes and a very colorful Versace track suit entered through the glass door. He nodded at Lorcan then he stopped beside Greg. It was obvious they had something going on between them. “Do you know when this portfolio was brought in?”

“Where in the pile was it?”

Greg blew out a breath. “Maybe here.”

“Then maybe two or three weeks ago?”

That was around the time I arrived in New York. So she had been around then. I let out a choked laugh. Maybe she was fine. Maybe she was really just so caught up in her modeling career that she’d forgotten all about us. My heart sank. It wasn’t what I’d hoped for but it was better than certain other alternatives.

“Can you give us the address of the photographer?” I asked.

“Laurence is linked to Sergej,” Greg said.

Lorcan nodded. “Give us the address.”

Greg wrote it down then handed it to Lorcan, who stuffed it into his pants. Then Lorcan dragged me out the door. “Thank you!” I shouted.

Lorcan led me toward his car. I climbed in, giddy over the information I’d gathered.

“I need to talk to Laurence.”

“Not today,” Lorcan said as he pulled away from the curb.

“I have a hot lead. I need to follow it.”

“I don’t have time to accompany you today. We can do it tomorrow.”

“I can go by myself. Laurence is a photographer, not a thug.”

“What makes you think he can’t be both?”

I pursed my lips. “He’s French, right?”

Lorcan cocked a dark eyebrow. “There are French thugs too.”

I huffed. “Greg said something about a Sergej.”

“Indeed, which is why you won’t go to Laurence without me. He’s not under my protection. He’s linked to the Russians.”

“The mob?”

“No, the state ballet,” Lorcan muttered sarcastically. His mood had darkened since Greg had mentioned Sergej.

I swallowed. “If he’s linked to the Russian mob, does that mean my sister was involved with them too?”

Lorcan shrugged. “Laurence is expensive, as Greg said. If you want easy money, certain Russian business men are a good choice.”

“Then this can’t wait. We have to talk to him today!”

Lorcan stopped the car. “No. And that’s my last word. You will obey, Aislinn. Maybe your sister was stupid enough to spread her legs for a Russian sponsor, but I don’t want you anywhere near the Bratva. I’ll handle them. This isn’t child’s play. We have rules. We have territories. We don’t like it when nosy girls mess with our business.”

I gritted my teeth, but I could tell it would be futile to push Lorcan. He wouldn’t allow me to go to Laurence alone. If I at least had his address, maybe I could maybe sneak away.

“All right,” I said softly and leaned over to kiss him. Surprise crossed Lorcan’s face as I pressed my lips to his, my hand rubbing circles on his chest.

Lorcan growled and snatched up my other hand that had been trying to extract the piece of paper from his pocket. His grip was tight, and his eyes held warning. “Careful. Don’t push me too far.”

He released me and nodded toward the house on my right. Maeve stood in the doorway.

“Time for tea.”

I climbed out of the car and headed for Maeve. Lorcan waited until I reached her before he drove off. Maeve gripped my arm and pulled me inside and toward their small but cozy living room. They lived in a two-bedroom townhouse with a miniature garden. I took a seat on the leather couch.

“Are you okay?”

Shaking my head, I took the cup of tea Maeve offered. It was blistering hot, so I blew on it for a while. “I found information about my sister but it leads to the Russian mob.”

We only knew that my sister had let Laurence, who had connections to the Russians—take her photos, but that didn’t mean she had connections to them as well. But who paid for the photos? I wasn’t an expert but I bet portfolio photos cost several thousand dollars.

“Do you know a Laurence?”

“No. He sounds French.”

I took out my phone and googled photographers with the first name Laurence. I found two in New York, but only one was close to the Bronx. He was mixed race, skin like coffee with way too much milk and eyes that had a slightly exotic edge—maybe Chinese or Japanese, I wasn’t sure, but he was very pretty. His studio was about thirty minutes away from here if I took an Uber.

I didn’t have a credit card so I couldn’t use the app. But I had some cash from the unspeakable event in Sodom, so I could call a cab.

“I can’t let you leave,” Maeve said with an embarrassed smile. “Seamus told me to keep you here until Lorcan picks you up. We’ll both get in trouble if you leave.”

“Damn, that arse. He knew I didn’t care if I got in trouble, but with you in the mix I’m forced to stay put.”

“I’m sorry,” Maeve whispered, and her hand moved to her belly.

“You’re pregnant?”

She pulled her hand away with a sheepish smile. “Only ten weeks along.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you. And you?”

“I’m not pregnant!”

“I mean, are you trying to get pregnant?”

“No, it’s too soon.”

Maeve nodded. After that she told me about her younger sisters, stories of mischief that had me laughing out loud, but every so often my mind returned to Laurence and what he knew. If Lorcan didn’t take me to him tomorrow, I’d go alone. I didn’t care if that made him furious. I wasn’t here to make him happy.

Lorcan picked me up around six. “I’m glad you obeyed.”

I didn’t react. “So tomorrow we’ll go to Laurence?”

Lorcan sent me an annoyed look. “If it gets you off my back. But I’m telling you, everything I’ve heard so far makes me believe your sister doesn’t want to be saved. She found a rich guy who pays for everything, and she figured it’s better than working her pretty ass off as a model.”

I shook my head. “It was her dream. Becoming a model was all she ever wanted. The only reason why she’d be with a rich guy was to get closer to that goal.”

“She uses men for her own gain. Seems to run in the family.”

My eyes grew wide with indignation.

“Don’t give me that look. Your mother seduced your father so he’d impregnate her and she could evade a marriage. You married me so I’d help you find your sister. And your sister uses men for money and their connections.”

My cheeks burned. He made it sound as if it were true. Was it? Were we Killeen women manipulative? “You blackmailed me into marrying you.”

“And now you’re using me to get what you want.”

“I doubt you’re suffering.”

“I’m not.”

On the way home, Lorcan grabbed burgers and fries for us but once we were home, they turned cold. The first thing Lorcan did was push me against the mirror in the hallway of his apartment. He shoved my panties aside and fingered me hard. I supported myself against the mirror, my face twisted with lust, my skin red from pleasure and embarrassment.

Lorcan slammed two fingers into me and fucked me viciously with them. I watched them pistol into me, and then his hot breath fanned over my ass cheeks and his tongue slid over my back entrance.

I gasped then moaned when his tongue pressed into me as his fingers kept fucking me. I closed my eyes against my own reflection and lost myself in Lorcan’s touch, in his skilled tongue, and soon in the pain-pleasure combination bursting through me as he fucked me.

We were eating the cold food on the sofa when my phone rang. It was home. I picked up. “Mum?”

“Aislinn?” said Finn’s small voice.

“Finn! Is Mum with you?”

“No. Our neighbor cooks lunch for me. But I wanted to talk to you. I miss you.” His words came out in a bad stutter, but I gathered what he said.

“I miss you too, Finn. I’ll be back soon.”

I could feel Lorcan’s eyes on me. I couldn’t really return to Dublin as Lorcan’s wife. I was expected to stay here. But I didn’t intend on being Lorcan’s wife for long. Lorcan didn’t know that though. Or maybe he did.

“I miss you so much,” Finn whispered. “Can I come visit?”

“It’s a long flight, Finn. I don’t think Mum can take off time from work that long. We’ll see each other soon. I promise.”

He told me about his last horse therapy session and then our neighbor took the phone and hung up.

I closed my eyes, feeling homesick and guilty for leaving Finn.

“Why don’t you bring Finn here? We can figure it out. It won’t take long to find a new place to live with an extra bedroom.”

I stared at Lorcan in surprise. Was he being serious?

“Ireland is his home. He should stay with Mum, and Mum won’t leave Ireland.”

“Your mother seems busy keeping her head afloat. You don’t have to work. You would have time to take care of your brother, and he could get better treatment over here. Money isn’t an issue. He’s still young. New York could be his home.”

Was Lorcan being kind? Or was this his way of keeping me in New York? Keeping me with him? “Did it for you?”

“No, but I was twenty when I came here. My roots are in Kenmare, in Ireland. Your brother is still small. Memories won’t bind him to Ireland.”

I could feel myself seriously considering his offer. I missed Finn and he missed me. I knew Lorcan was right. Mum was probably working overtime to make up for my missing money. Finn liked our neighbor, but she wasn’t family and she was old. I wanted Finn safe. But was he really safe in Dublin? Everyone who was connected to the Five-Leaf-Clover gang knew about my marriage to Lorcan by now. That meant people would find out about Mum and Finn. I wasn’t sure if Balor would make sure my mother and Finn were safe. If Finn was here, I could protect him, and for some reason I didn’t think Lorcan posed a danger for him.

It all depended on how much longer my search for Imogen would take. Weeks? Months? And once I found Imogen, would I be able to return right away? Probably not. So more time could pass. Maybe more weeks or months. What if that meant a year without Finn? He was closest to me, always had been, and I had time like Lorcan had said.

Could I really drag Finn into this?

“You should fly him over. If things don’t work out, he can return to Dublin. No harm done. I don’t care about a few thousand dollars for airfare. Even your mother can return to her old turf for all I care.”

I nodded. “I’ll talk to her, and Finn.”