Ryan Reign (New York Ruthless #4)(19)

“This is my Aunt Em,” I say as Jessie looks at me over Em’s shoulder with a huge smile on her face.

“Come in,” Em says when she finally lets Jessie go. “Aoife is here too.”

“Who is Aoife?” Jessie mouths to me as we go inside.

I slide my hand around her waist and press my lips close to her ear. “My cousin.”

We follow Em into her sitting room and are immediately greeted by a tall, dark haired woman in her mid twenties, with a huge pregnant bump, whose smile is even wider than my aunt’s.

“Shane!” she says excitedly. “You haven’t changed at all. From your pictures, I mean.”

“Well, you certainly have. I think you were about one the last time I saw you?”

“Yes,” Em replies. “It was about a year after your mum’s funeral.” She wipes a tear from her eyes. “It was the last time I saw any of you.”

“I know,” I say as I wrap an arm around her shoulder and kiss the top of her head.

“Come on, tough guy,” she sniffs and straightens up. “You can help me make the tea.”



I follow Em into the kitchen and she fills the kettle and places it on her stove. I recognize it immediately. It’s an old fashioned kind that whistles when the water is boiled and it belonged to my grandmother too. She turns to face me, her hands resting on the countertop either side of her.

“Your Uncle Paul came to see me,” she says, searching my face for a reaction.

“Oh? I didn’t realize he was back yet?”

“It was late last night,” she replies with a slight bob of her head.

I don’t speak. I stand in her kitchen, listening to the sound of the water boiling while neither of us mentions the thing that is most obviously on both of our minds.

“I told him that I know,” she finally says before letting out a long, slow breath that it seemed like she’d been bottling up for a while. “I told him that you know too.”

“Fuck, Em!” I shake my head in exasperation.

“What else could I do, Shane? He was standing right here, asking me questions about you and the boys.”

“What did he say? Did he confirm it?”

She nods her head.

“Fuck!”

“You haven’t told them yet then?”

“No. There just hasn’t seemed like the right time to do it. Every time I tried to, I just froze, you know? I mean how do you tell someone something like that?”

“I’m sorry that I burdened you with it, Shane.” She wipes a stray tear from her eye. I step closer to her and put my arms around her and she leans against me.

“Don’t be. Someone has to tell them, and it’s better that it comes from me. And now that Paul knows we know,” I sigh, “I need to tell them as soon as possible, but I want to speak to him first.”

The whistling of the kettle pierces the air and she rushes to take it from the heat.

“That makes sense. And what about Jessie? Does she know?” Em asks as she pours water into her old yellow teapot.

“No. It’s not fair to ask her to keep a secret like that.”

“Of course not,” she purses her lips and then looks up as the kitchen door opens and Aoife walks in.

“Do you have any of those ginger biscuits, Mammy?”

“Of course, petal,” Em turns and opens a cupboard. “You feeling queasy again?”

“No. I told Jessie how amazing they are,” she laughs. “So I said we should have some with our tea.”

I roll my eyes. My girl has such a sweet tooth.

“I’ll bring some through,” Em says with a smile and Aoife walks out of the kitchen, leaving us alone again.

“Did Paul leave a contact number, or tell you where he’s staying?” I ask.

“No,” she replies with a shake of her head. “As elusive as he ever was. Does he still have that old place out in Antrim?”

“Not as far as I know. My lawyer told me it was sold off years ago. Did he say what his plans were?”

“Not really. He did say he intended to catch up with you soon, so I expect you’ll be seeing him shortly.”

“Did he tell you why, Em?” I ask, conscious that Aoife or Jessie could walk into the room at any moment.

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “He said that he loved her,” she replies with a shrug. “Isn’t that the reason any of us do anything, Shane?”





Chapter 11





Jessie





After we’ve finished our tea and eaten some of Em’s homemade ginger biscuits, Aoife and I go into the garden. It is a truly beautiful place. Em has so many wildflowers growing. The wild jasmine smells incredible and she has promised to make me some soaps with it and send them out to New York. Seeing her and Shane together has been so lovely. I see a completely different side of him with her. He is sweet and helpful and gracious, and he rarely curses in front of her.

“How long have you known Shane?” Aoife asks.

“Umm. About nine months now.”

“How did you meet?” she asks with a smile.

Hmm. He blew up my old boss’s house and then threatened to kill me too, but I persuaded him and his brothers to kidnap me instead. “Through work,” I say.