Let Me (O'Brien Family, #2)

“That’s my point. After all I’ve accomplished, I should be the one leading the Homicide unit.”


I shove away from my desk and pace. When Miles gave me these new digs, I thought it was just the start of all the good things coming my way. When he assigned me a county car and a personal secretary, it only reinforced that my hard work had paid off. I was on my way …until I wasn’t.

“I spent months dismantling a mafia empire, Curran.”

“I know,” he says. “I was there.”

“I brought down a major crime boss―and his second in command, and his third.”

“Yup. Saw that, too,” he agrees.

“I received international attention―the trial of the century, the media called it―and for what? To be shoved someplace I don’t belong.”

“Why don’t you think you belong there?”

Out of all my five brothers, Curran is probably one of the biggest ball busters. But he’s not messing with me now. He’s being serious.

“Do you want to hear about babies and women being hurt? Day in and day out?” I ask. “These are the cases I’m going to be dealing with.”

“Someone has to do it, Deck. It’s the right thing.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t. I’m only saying I may not be the man for the job. This shit’s disgusting, what these low-life assholes are capable of.”

“Is this about Finnie?” He huffs when I straighten and don’t answer. “Christ,” he mutters.

As easy as that, my brother nails it on the head. For all he sometimes pisses me off, my brother isn’t stupid. “Finnie didn’t deserve what happened to him,” I say, feeling my anger burn down to my gut.

“Of course he didn’t,” Curran snaps. “No one does. But as his brother, you owe it to him to put monsters like the guy who hurt him away.”

I sit back in my chair and rub my jaw. “I don’t know if I can.”

Our youngest brother was sexually assaulted by a neighbor when he was ten. It screwed with his mind. What he doesn’t realize is we’ve all suffered, too―not like he has―of course, not like he has. That doesn’t mean we don’t hurt for him or haven’t spent sleepless nights worried about him.

Nothing bad was supposed to happen to Finnie. He was the baby. The one who counted on us. The one we were all supposed to keep safe.

With this new assignment―hearing stories like Finnie’s on a regular basis?—God damn it. “I don’t think I can do this,” I say yet again.

“Deck, you have to, man.”

A knock on the door interrupts us. I know who it is before I even ask. “Come in,” I say, assuming my attorney pose because for now, I have to. For now, I’m a professional. Even though all the Philly boy in me wants to do is rage.

My boss, Miles Fenske walks in, followed by his daughter Melissa. Miles smiles warmly, nodding my way.

Mel? What can I say? She’s the one person who’s never been taken by my charm. Today’s no different. Unlike the other females who work here, from interns to attorneys, she doesn’t meet me with a grin, doesn’t flash me a little leg, doesn’t pretend to flirt. Brown hair, brown eyes, creamy skin, with a steel-hard exterior, she walks in with her hips swinging, her bright red dress hugging her hourglass figure, her full lips pressed into a firm line, and her unyielding stare meeting mine.

She doesn’t like me. Not that I blame her. Too bad this is the one woman I can’t seem to get out of my damn mind . . .





READ ON FOR AN EXCERPT FROM





Crave Me




An O’Brien Family Novel


by Cecy Robson





CHAPTER 1


Wren



I drop the keys in Mr. Esposito’s hand and smile. He stares at them in his open palm like a precious gift, because to someone like him who’s worked hard his entire life, it very much is. “Thank you, Wren,” he says, meeting my smile. “I never thought I’d own a new car. Let alone be able to give one to my son as a gift.”

“You deserve it, Mr. Esposito,” I tell him, shaking his hand. “And so does your son for getting into Drexel. Tell Antonio, hi for me―Oh, and be sure to have someone take his picture when you hand him the keys.” I motion to my office behind me. “I want to add it to my memory wall.”

“I will.” He presses his lips tight as if considering what to say. “Your father would be proud of you,” he tells me. His soft brown eyes take in the massive dealership, fixing on the sales board displaying my current rank at number one. “Very proud.”