The Second Betrayal by Cheyenne McCray

Material things weren't high on my priority list.
    A big portion of my accumulated funds was blood money, though, from when I'd been an assassin. It still made me
    gut-sick to know the cash was in an account in the Cayman Islands. I hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, much less
    figure out what to do with it. The rest was in legit U.S. bank accounts, IRAs, and conservative stocks.
    My mind churned as we skipped the elevator and I followed Donovan up the well-maintained wood stairs that didn't
    even creak as we climbed. Mama's medical bills would be massive, and my parents didn't have enough insurance to
    cover close to the amount that would accumulate. If it took everything I'd saved, I'd help pay every dime of the bills.
    But I'd use only what I'd earned and saved over the years from working for RED. I wasn't going to use tainted money for anything related to my family.
    My brothers and sister would help, too, of course.
    We were a tight-knit family. Even though some of us had our differences, we were always there for one another and
    always had been. No matter what. No one messed with the Steele family.
    When we reached a heavy oak door on the second floor, Donovan set one suitcase down, dug in a front pocket, and
    tossed me a key.
    The metal was warm in my fingers as I unlocked and opened the door. Lemon oil was the first scent I caught—along
    with cinnamon and pine—when I took a quick glimpse of the gorgeous interior and a small Christmas tree. "Nice, Donovan."
    He looked like he was hiding one of his adorable grins. I tilted my head, wondering what he was up to. "Fridge is stocked with Mountain Dew and Guinness," he said. "Plenty of Pecan Sandies and Doritos are packed in one of the cabinets."
    "Thank God." I dropped my carry-on, and it thunked on the hardwood floor as I headed straight for the fridge. "You are one incredibly smart man."
    Cool air flowed over my face when I opened the door and grabbed two brown bottles from one of the four six-packs
    of beer that sat next to no less than five two-liters of Mountain Dew. The fridge was loaded with other foodstuffs, but who cared about that when a Guinness was waiting?
    The bottles of beer chilled my palms as I faced Donovan and handed him one after he picked up an opener off the
    counter. "Not just smart but brilliant," I added. "You even thought to buy the most important utensil known to man."
    He winked. "I didn't want you to break a tooth in your hurry to crack one open."
    I had already raised my bottle to my lips and almost snorted Guinness up my nose when I laughed. Would have been a
    waste of good beer.
    A little of the heaviness I'd been feeling rose off my shoulders as I grinned at him. The easy camaraderie we had
    known the summer relaxed me a bit. I took a healthy swig of beer and glanced away from him to look at the furnished apartment.
    My gaze skimmed the richly polished wood floor, the burgundy draperies pulled to the sides of wood blinds that
    matched the floor and the kitchen cabinets. A stuffed taupe couch and loveseat were in the living room along with a burgundy recliner.
    "You really went all-out." I had a hard time imagining my apartment in the egg-yolk-yellow South Boston building looking anything like this place. No, this was more like the bottom floor of the brownstone Donovan had purchased for himself and his sister in Back Bay. "How'd you get something so nice so fast?"
    "Plenty of apartments were available." Donovan shrugged. "Just picked one I thought you'd like."
    I set my empty beer bottle on the granite counter and smirked. "And you chose this one after seeing my apartment in Southie?"
    As he winked at me, he was probably picturing some of my clothing scattered on my carpet with an empty pizza box
    on the coffee table. I'd pegged Donovan for a neat-freak considering how spotless he always kept his place, but he
    never said a word when he'd been in my apartment in the triple-decker building, known locally as a trip.
    "Is Kerrison already