Janie spent the rest of Sunday talking about wedding plans with my mother, conferencing in her friend Marie from Chicago.

The next days in Boston were filled with corporate client meetings. At night, we went back to my parents’ house for dinner. By Tuesday, being around them was finally easier, but I was ready to climb the walls. I think it helped that they didn’t try to apologize again. But every time we were together, I wanted to tell them I was sorry.

I didn’t, because the idea of apologizing felt inadequate. I wasn’t sure that I was ready to be forgiven. So I kept quiet and swallowed my guilt.

This morning, which was also the last morning of our last full day in Boston, Janie and I split after breakfast. I needed to tie up loose ends with former private clients. She said she needed to run some wedding errands with my mom, whatever that meant.

I hadn’t expected those errands to include tea with local thugs.

Seamus—Dan’s money-laundering no-good ass**le of a brother and Jem’s ex-boyfriend, the same ex-boyfriend who’d tried to kidnap Janie several months ago—was on my list of top three sonsabitches I’d like to disappear.

Right now though, the first person I was going to murder was Dan. After that, Seamus. After that…maybe Janie. Probably not.

I did a quick scan of the room, surprised to find two of my local lieutenants, Carl and Stan, standing at either end of the perimeter. Their eyes met mine. One look told me they were less than pleased with the current situation.

Once I was certain that the room was secure, I shut the door with a little more force than necessary and waited for the occupants to notice me. They did, immediately and all at the same time, glancing up from their conversation in unison.

The room fell silent.

I glared at Dan. He glared back. I saw he was pissed, and I knew he was the one who had called Carl and Stan. Dan was the only one not drinking tea. He was on the edge of his seat looking tense and uncomfortable between Seamus and the ladies.

I shifted my glare to Seamus. He gave me a shit-eating grin. I decided that he was now number one on my list of people I’d like to make disappear.

“What are you doing here?” Instead of pistol-whipping him, I set my briefcase by the door, began pulling off my leather gloves.

“I heard you were in town, thought I’d stop by for a friendly chat.” His greasy smile widened, and he looked at Janie. The bastard winked at her.

Seamus shouldn’t breathe the same air as my mother or Janie, much less share teatime.

I tossed my gloves and overcoat to a nearby chair, my eyes never leaving Seamus. “What are you doing here?” I said it slower this time.

The smile dropped from his face as his eyes flickered to mine. He looked nervous.

My mother set her tea on the table and stood. “I invited him in.”

Before I looked at my mother, I let Seamus feel the threat behind my stare.

She seemed weary. “I had two choices, Quinn. Invite him in or turn him away. One way or the other, he wanted to talk to you. But more than that, he wants to make a statement.”

“I don’t know what she’s….” Seamus said, but my mother cut him off.

“You forget, Seamus, I changed your diapers. Don’t try to bullshit me.” She then turned back to me. “And you also forget that I know Seamus. He and Dan used to come over after school when they were kids. Seamus got an A in my trigonometry class.”

“Right before he dropped out,” Dan piped up. His tone told me he was close to losing his shit.

“Listen…” Seamus glared at his brother, then his eyes flickered to my mother. He had the nerve to appear ashamed. “I’m sorry if I interrupted anything.”

“You did,” she said. “And I know you’re not sorry. You knew we were here—Janie and me—and that Quinn was not.” I studied my mother. She seemed to be searching Seamus’s face for something, as if he were lacking some much-needed character trait, and her sigh was defeated when she looked at me again. “Janie and I are leaving. We have an appointment with a dressmaker.”

“Mrs. Sullivan, I am sorry. Please don’t leave on my account.” Seamus tried again, his voice surprisingly sincere.

“If you want to tell someone you’re sorry, Seamus, I have your mother’s phone number. Maybe you’d like to give her a call.”

He dropped the act. His expression flattened, his mouth formed a grim line, and he stood silent under my mother’s disappointment.

She allowed just five seconds for her point to sink in. Then she reached for her purse. Janie stood and my eyes immediately locked on her.

It felt like getting punched in the stomach, she was so beautiful. She looked curious and composed, but not frightened, even though she’d been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole thing.

She was also wearing some kind of light pink wrap dress, the kind that reminds me of a bathrobe, except the ties are connected. I knew, because I had previous experience with one of her other wrap dresses; all I had to do was pull the tie and the dress fell open.

I f**king hated Seamus.

I gritted my teeth and exhaled, fought the urge to order everyone out so that Janie and I could be alone. The only reason I didn’t was because my mother was right. Seamus wanted to make a statement. He was nothing but an irritating blip on my radar. If he didn’t put on his show now, it would be later.

My mother passed by me first, gave me a small smile, and squeezed my arm. Then she surprised the hell out of me with a gentle peck on the cheek.

I felt twelve years old again. It made me feel forgiven.

Carl followed my mother. I was still shaking off my disorientation when he gave me a curt nod; I knew he would take care of them.

Janie trailed behind, hesitant, waiting for a cue on how to act. She was so f**king smart it killed me. I grabbed her hand as she passed, settled for an irritatingly chaste kiss on her cheek. When she leaned close, I noticed that she smelled different, like perfume or a new soap, and I wanted to know why.

Stan was last and muttered as he passed, “We’ll take them home.”

My eyes slid back to Seamus before I said, “You do that.”

I heard the door shut.

Then I walked to the bar and poured myself a whiskey, turning my back to the room. I was in no hurry now, and since I was in a bad mood, I was happy to share it with someone I disliked.

I downed the first glass with one quick swig then poured two more generous fingers.

“No thanks, I don’t want anything,” Seamus called.

“I didn’t ask and I’m not offering.” I turned and glanced out the window of the presidential suite to the skyline of Boston beyond.

“That’s not very nice.” Seamus whined, sitting down again. “After I did that solid for your girl.”

My eyes slid to the side and I glared at him.

“He gave you all the money Jem stole.” Dan said this to his brother, shaking his head. “You didn’t do him a favor.”

“I let her go, didn’t I?”

“And Quinn could have busted open your operation with one phone call. You’d be rotting in prison right now, right?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked the question slower this time, pausing menacingly between words.

Seamus shifted in his seat, increasingly uncomfortable. “Didn’t know you were going to be so rude.”

“Stop f**king around, ass**le. Just spit it out.” Dan huffed, leaned back in the large leather club chair, and shook his head. He looked embarrassed.

Seamus was many things, but he was not stupid. He was resourceful, clever, and if he worked half as hard at a real job in a legit industry as he did laundering money, he’d be very successful. But he didn’t. He was the ruler of a modest empire, one that I allowed to exist.

Or, rather, one that I had allowed to exist. Because if I knew who needed money laundered on the East Coast, then I had valuable information.

But I didn’t deal in information anymore, or at least I was trying to get out of it. This meant Seamus’s current position as the ruler of his realm was precarious at best.

And, right now, finding him in my suite, winking at Janie, and keeping me from learning more about essential oil extraction methods, I was pretty sure Seamus’s reign was coming to an end.

“I heard a rumor about you,” Seamus said, making a desperate show of his aggression.

I just looked at him, because he hadn’t yet given me any reason to speak.

Seconds ticked by and he grew more agitated.

Finally, he blurted, “You’re one cold bastard, Quinn. I thought we were friends.”

“No you didn’t.”

“So, is it true? Are you cutting everyone out?”

I waited for a moment. Then I strolled to the couch and sat down, stating the obvious. “This is a waste of my time.”

“Are you going to cross me now?”

I squinted at him. “Why would I do that?”

“Because, if you’re not looking for influence, you don’t need my info.”

“Seamus, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I run a security firm. I provide security for corporations—businesses, banks, hotels, et cetera. As far as I know, you are not affiliated with a corporation. You and I have nothing to do with each other.”

His eyes narrowed and he studied my face like it held the key to his continued existence. “Just know this: you come after me, I come after you.”