Her gaze landed on the one representing him. A flame. She knew that specific flame. She’d seen it before. “Saint Jude?”
He grinned. “Yeah.”
Which meant the other symbols represented saints as well. She touched each in turn. It was such a different way to go about representing a family that he obviously had very conflicting feelings about. But he loved them. That couldn’t be any clearer. She stopped on his bare ring finger. “This one?”
“Well, angel, I left that one blank because I figured someday I might meet a woman I cared about enough to marry.” He rolled back on top of her, grinning. “That one’s yours.”
Mine. She kissed him, the riot of emotions in her chest only getting worse. She loved him so much it hurt to breathe. He took the kiss deeper, his hands sliding over her skin in a way designed to make her lose her mind. As he slipped a finger inside her, she had one last thought before pleasure bore her away.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe things really will be okay.
Chapter Eighteen
The phone ringing brought Teague out of a delicious dream about being wrapped around Callie. He opened his eyes and smiled because the dream wasn’t far off from reality. She was curled up against his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder. He touched her hair, smoothing it back, marveling that she was his wife. It had been an impulsive move, but he didn’t regret it in the least.
The phone rang again, snapping him out of it. He reached blindly for the nightstand and answered without looking at the screen. “What?”
“Where the hell are you?”
Aiden. He almost snapped that it was none of his brother’s fucking business, but the panic in Aiden’s tone gave him pause. “My apartment. What’s going on?”
“Get your ass back here now. Carrigan’s gone.”
For one breathless moment, Teague thought he meant dead. Then the actual words penetrated through the fear. “Gone.”
“That fucking piece of shit Halloran has her.” Aiden paused, and when he spoke again, he sounded forcibly less panicked. “He said we have twenty-four hours to turn over Brendan Halloran’s murderer, or they’ll kill her like they killed Devlin.”
Teague sat up. His first instinct was to deny that James would go to those lengths, especially when he knew Teague was already looking for the woman who shot Brendan. But, as much as he wanted to like James, he couldn’t trust the man with his sister’s life. The years had a way of changing people. He hadn’t expected the Hallorans to gun down Devlin. He couldn’t afford to underestimate them again.
“I have some leads.” He slipped out of bed and yanked on his pants.
“What?”
“You might be totally okay with putting our family in jeopardy in a grab for power, but I’m not. I started looking into Brendan’s death as soon as I saw which way the wind was blowing.” He stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. “I know it’s a woman. She was dressed as a stripper, but none of the other girls in the club knew her.”
“That’s not enough.”
“No shit.” He closed his eyes. “Devlin…” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Devlin managed to get his hands on security tapes from the gas station across from the back entrance. I haven’t had a chance to look at them—”
“Bring them. We’ll look at them together.”
Teague released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He hadn’t wanted to touch those tapes. Not alone. They felt like his last link to Devlin. It was a stupid feeling. His brother’s life was about more than just computer work. But it was the last thing he’d done before he died. The wound was too new, too raw, for Teague to be able to poke at it without hurting.
But he could do it with Aiden.
“Okay.” Teague never thought he’d stand with his older brother after learning Aiden wanted this goddamn war. The time for finger-pointing and the blame game was over. They’d both lost a brother. It didn’t make what Aiden did right, but there was only one man who ordered that hit. Halloran. He might as well have pulled the trigger himself. It didn’t matter if it had been James or Victor or even that little shit Ricky. That hit wouldn’t have gone down if one of them hadn’t given the go-ahead.
“Aiden…” It was harder than it should have been to say what he needed to say. “This isn’t your fault. I know I said it was, but—”
“Teague.”
He stopped. “Yeah?”
“As much as I appreciate the thought, it’s not up to you to absolve me of this. It’s not something anyone can.” The guilt was so thick in Aiden’s voice, it was hard to make out his words. Teague wanted to comfort him. He wanted to say that it was bullshit and that Aiden couldn’t have known what would happen.