Page 33 of My Craving

Well, fuck me. Apparently, tying up one Murphy last night wasn’t enough family involvement for the universe.

“I wasn’t aware. I just came for the concert.” I keep the smile firmly in place even though his expression says he doesn’t believe me. Considering I’m standing outside a restroom waiting to drug a man, he probably shouldn’t. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Declan’s gaze shifts toward the restroom before returning to me, and my smile gets a little harder to maintain.

Murphy men are entirely too fucking observant for my comfort.

Chapter 18 Nash

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Declan crosses his arms and shifts directly into my path. The man is built like a brick wall, and judging by the look on his face, attempting to go around him probably won’t end well for me. He’s what I imagine Duncan looked like at his age. Copy and paste. Same dark hair, sharp features, and that unsettling intensity when he focuses on something. Right now, all of it is aimed at me, and Declan looks one minor inconvenience away from committing a felony. Lucky me.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Murphy?” I manage to sound almost pleasant, although the slight narrowing of his eyes tells me the sarcasm slipped through. Before he can answer, the restroom door opens behind me, and Justin stumbles right past us on his way back toward his table, taking the opportunity I spent the entire evening waiting for with him.

I close my eyes and breathe through the urge to lose my shit. By the time I look again, he’s already halfway across the club. Two attempts to get close to Justin, and two different Murphy men have appeared at exactly the wrong fucking moment. If Finn, Liam, or Ronan shows up next time, I’m taking it as proof the entire family has made ruining my plans a group project.

“Problem?” Declan asks.

I drag my attention back to him. “Mr. Murphy, with all due respect—”

“Declan.”

“Declan,” I correct through gritted teeth. “Why exactly are you standing between me and the rest of my evening?” At this point, he’s giving his father serious competition for Most Annoying Murphy in Philadelphia.

His attention shifts over my shoulder toward Justin before returning to me. “Is that your next mark?”

My stomach drops at the word. For a few terrifying seconds, my mind tears through every way I could have fucked up. The apartment. The files. Someone seeing me when I thought I was alone. I force my face to stay neutral while trying to figure out how the hell Duncan’s son knows enough to call Justin a mark.

“Was humiliating my dad your endgame for him, and now you’re moving on to the next poor guy?”

Relief nearly takes my knees out from under me. He’s talking about Duncan, not Justin, the files, or anything else that could end with me explaining several felonies to people who actually know how to make someone disappear. A laugh escapes before I can stop it.

Declan’s frown deepens. “You think this is funny?”

“You scared the shit out of me for a second, but no.” I glance past him at Justin, now safely back at his table thanks to the Murphy family’s apparent commitment to destroying my plans. “I think you need to mind your business.”

“Answer the question.”

I look back at him. “What goes on between your dad and me is between us. He’s a big boy and can handle himself. If he was embarrassed about the limo, he shouldn’t have told anyone.”

Declan stares at me like I’ve just announced I enjoy drowning puppies as a hobby. “The fucking gossip columns told everyone, not my dad, dipshit. You humiliated him, and then pictures of it ended up all over the internet.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“How much did you get paid to set him up?”

It takes me a second to process what he’s accusing me of. “You think I arranged the pictures?”

“You opened the car door at exactly the right angle for Dad to be seen while your face stayed hidden. What am I supposed to think?”

“I don’t give a shit what you think. I didn’t set him up.”

Declan steps closer, studying my face as if he can stare the truth out of me. He’s a hell of a lot bigger than I am, and I’ve heard enough about his underground fights to have a pretty good idea what would happen if this turned physical. He could kick my ass and make it hurt, and not even in a fun way. I’ve dealt with men who use their size to intimidate people before, though, and backing down because Declan is bigger would only piss me off later, so I plant my feet and hold his stare.

“I tied your father up with his own belt and left him half-dressed in a limousine because I was pissed at him. That part was absolutely me. The photographer wasn’t.”

Declan watches me for another few seconds. “You expect me to believe that?”

“You can believe whatever the hell you want. It won’t change what happened.” His jaw tightens, but I’m done defending myself against something I didn’t do. “If I wanted to embarrass Duncan Murphy, I could’ve done a hell of a lot better than a blurry tabloid picture. Besides, I actually like your dad.”