Summoning the will, he pivoted. "When I went back to the pub yesterday after we made love, I decided I was going to turn it down."

"Sure you did."

"Believe what you want now. I dont care. Just dont hurt my family."

Barely able to breathe, Dylan made it to the steps but then had to sit down on the top one. The magnitude of what she could do to those he loved was too much to bear.

When Dylan could finally move, he got up and walked outside. The cold weather chilled him but no more than the cold inside him. He looked down the street to see if a cab was around, but before he could snag one, a text chimed from his phone. The message was from Bailey. "Come to the townhouse right away."

h.e.l.l! His sister had come to New York. Because of his screwup. Hailing a cab, his mind whirled about what Rachel could do to him. How had he been so stupid? He arrived at Baileys New York home in fifteen minutes, dreading what he had to confess to his sister. Mitch Calloway opened the door after one knock. His face was grim-this was how hed looked when the story Rachel had done on Tim Jenkins, Clays agent, whod died, came out. The Secret Service had been furious with her. "Come on in, Dylan. Theyre in the study."

"They? Clay came, too?"

He nodded to the living room where six agents sat, more than usual because of Clays acting presidency. When he walked down to the den, he saw another at the door. The man let them inside. Bailey and Clay were seated on the couch, holding hands, talking softly.

Theyd seen the show. They knew what was coming. His heart hurt so much he wondered if he was having an attack like Pa.

When she caught sight of him, Bailey bounded up and threw herself at him. He hugged her tight and felt his eyes fill. What had he done to this woman? To all of them?

She drew back and studied him. "Dont you dare blame yourself."

"I am to blame. You dont know what I did."

Clay stood and approached them. He put his arm around Dylans shoulders and said simply, "Im now the most powerful man in the world, Dyl. At least for a while. I imagine I can fix anything with our family that needs fixing."

Bailey took his hand. "Lets sit down, then tell us whats happened."

Rachel often worked on Sat.u.r.day, and since she had a lot to do in preparing next weeks mini-segments, she changed into jeans and a sweater, took her hair down and went to the studio straight from dance cla.s.s. The outer newsroom was humming with weekend programs, so she snuck into her office, closed the noise and activity out and sat down at her desk. Every single muscle in her body ached. With no sleep and only coffee to keep her going, she was beginning to feel the effects of treating her body badly.

And of Dylans words.

Im falling in love with you.

"No!" she said so loudly that it echoed in the quiet surroundings. No more tricks or false promises. I have to rely on myself.

Forcing all thoughts of him out of her mind, she booted up her computer, called up the doc.u.ments shed created last night and dived in. Shed start with Bailey. That would hurt Dylan the most. She typed copy from the notes and internet searches shed done last night: "young, impressionable teen, loves half-sister, whos in the worst girl gang in history of New York."

Needing exact information on the half-sister, she clicked into the site shed found last night but hadnt had time to examine. It was an article on deaths in girl gangs. The county had put out a list with names and any information known about them. Not too long ago, a young girl named Taz had been killed. Shed had some contact with ESCAPE, which was Baileys baby. Now that was new information. More searching brought up a name she recognized. Moira Lincoln. A picture accompanied it of a teenager with the ONeil blue eyes. She had the face of an angel but sported a Mohawk hairstyle. And shed been killed in a gang fight. The name of Moiras gang was the GGs, just like Tazs affiliation.

Both were horrific stories, which made Rachels stomach queasy. Halfway into taking notes, her heart sped up and she began to sweat. She sank back into the chair and closed her eyes. Was this the kind of person Rachel had become? Exploiting innocent girls sucked into gangs and the people who helped them? How could she do this?

Realizing she was having a panic attack, shed just calmed herself down when there was a loud knock on the door, and then it opened. She must have fallen asleep, be dreaming, because Crane had opened the door and behind him, she could see the acting First Lady of the United States. A man dressed in a black suit stood behind her, and Rachel saw other agents with him.

"You have a visitor," Crane said gravely.

From the men in black, "Well be right out here, Ms. ONeil."

"Thanks, Mitch." He closed the door.

Bailey, dressed in simple, gray wool pants and a blue sweater, her hair clipped back, walked over to the desk and stared down at Rachel with venom in her eyes. "I want to talk to you."

The first thing Bailey saw on Rachel Scotts face was shock. Beneath that, though, was anguish-so deep it silenced Bailey for a moment. There was a h.e.l.l of a lot more going on here than shed realized. So she asked more gently, "May I sit?"

"Yes, of course."

Bailey took a chair at the conference table, signaling she would be met on equal ground. Rachel rose and joined her. Now Bailey saw Rachels hands were shaking. Still, Rachel raised her chin. "What do you want, Ms. ONeil?"

"Call me Bailey. Youre already on intimate terms with my life and my familys history."

Rachel glanced to the computer, then back to Bailey. "You talked to Dylan."

"Yes. And I learned some things. Youre planning to expose painful private details about my family."

Rachels spine stiffened and she sat up straighter. "As Dylan is about to do with mine."

"Thats up for debate."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "What do you know?"

"That youre not the monster I thought you were."

The shock returned to Rachels face. Bailey had hoped to knock her off-kilter. "Why do you say that?"

"Because my brother cares about you, so there must be more to you."

"He only cares about you, Bailey, and the rest of the family." The words were said bitterly, laced with hurt.

"Youre wrong. But thats between you and Dylan. What else is happening concerns all of us. I cant let you do what youre planning."

This time, Rachel glanced nervously to the door.

"Dont worry," Bailey said a bit amused. "In the United States, we dont arrest reporters who tell inconvenient truths."

"W-what do you do to them?"

"We make deals. You wanna deal, Ms. Scott?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Bailey swallowed hard, but knew she had to be strong. This woman could do real damage. "Yes. Your alternative, though, is to let both of our families be destroyed by your anger at Dylan."

The woman sat forward. "Now, wait just a minute."

"No, you wait." Bailey came to the edge of her seat, too. "You know this war between you and Dylan will end in heartache for everybody. You know that in the long run, our family will survive, but what will happen to you, Rachel? Can your family handle a scandal like ours can? Do you get to keep your job as Dylan does?"

Apparently, the stark truth hit her square in the jaw. She paled but fought back the emotion threatening her. Bailey admired that. She waited.

"I cant deny any of that. Whats the deal?"

"The first thing is Clay will agree not to cut you out of his press conferences, press core trips, etcetera. You wont get special treatment, but youll have the same access as other reporters. The access hes denied you so far."

"Im not sure thats enough to ditch the stories I have on all of you."

"No, it probably isnt. But Im not done. Dylan agrees to keep silent about your familys relationship with you."

"What about the book deal and the column?"

"He has to decide on what he writes in his column about you and if to accept the deal. But he will not include your personal family relationships."

"I see."

The woman still didnt look convinced. Bailey expected that. "Im also offering something to replace your daily scoops on us next week." She rose and opened the door. "Mitch, could you bring the boxes in?"

The same agent entered with two big boxes and set them on the tabletop. "You okay, Ms. ONeil?"

"Im fine."

When he left, Bailey opened the lid. Rachel leaned over and looked inside. But she didnt speak.

Behind her, she heard, "One more thing. You can use all of this, and have the rest of the deal, but I want a promise from you."

Turning, Rachel asked, "What promise?"

"That youll leave my brother the h.e.l.l alone."

The Rachel Scott Show, Monday night segment: "I promised a five-minute piece each day this week about New Yorks famous family, the ONeils. Weve gotten exclusive coverage of each sibling and are featuring one per night. We start with the acting First Lady of the United States."

A current picture of Bailey came on-screen. "From the time she was born"-baby pictures appeared-"until her adulthood, Bailey ONeil has been protected by her brothers. She calls them Patrick, the Fighter; Dylan, the Taunter; Liam, the Manipulator, and Aidan, the Peacemaker. These are photos of Ms. ONeil with each of them." The screen showed pictures, and Rachel gave the voice-over... Patrick holding Bailey just after she was born; a shot of her with Dylan as she was learning to ride a two-wheeler; with Liam and his deceased wife on a boat; a picture of her and her brother Aidan holding hands; and last, at Aidans wedding with all four boys together. "Wow, arent they something!"

The Rachel Scott Show, Tuesday night segment: Patrick, the Fighter... The same format of the evening before was used: A picture of him shoveling at the pile on 9/11, where one of his high school buddies was buried; a photo of him at the St. Paddys Day parade wearing a vest that said, Volunteer; him at the pubs Halloween party wearing a s.e.xy costume. "Hmm," Rachel commented. "Ill never think of pirates in the same way again."

The Rachel Scott Show , Wednesday night segment: Dylan, the Taunter...the bad boy... A picture of a teenage beau and Bailey, sitting on the front porch while Dylan watches from the window (courtesy of their mother, Mary Kate ONeil); Dylan in a racecar when he did some stock car racing; a picture of him in a tux at a fundraiser. "These boys bring black tie to new heights."

The Rachel Scott Show , Thursday night segment: Liam, the Manipulator... Picture of him holding Baileys hand crossing the street for the first time; a shot of him as leader of his sons Boy Scout troop; the last, a photo of Liam with his new wife, one of Americas Bravest, in her uniform.

The Rachel Scott Show , Friday night segment: Aidan, the Peacemaker... "Now a well-known photographer, Aidan has been at the job since he was young." A picture of Bailey posing as a teenage girl, freckle faced and cute. Next, a montage of Aidans photographs in a magazine; finally, a picture of him at the altar with Ms. ONeils former Secret Service Agent.

Chapter 17.

Pat glanced down the bar at Dylan, who sat on a stool with a pitcher in front of him. "So, what are you still mopin about?"

Dylan didnt even look up. "Nothing. None of your business, anyway."

Pat stormed down to the end of the bar and positioned himself right in Dylans line of vision. "Jesus, you give the girl everything she wants, theres peace in the family, and you still look like a G.o.dd.a.m.ned stone statue."

"Shut up, Patrick."

Pat felt his blood pressure skyrocket. Dylan had been a basket case for two weeks, and he was sick of it. "Heres what I think. I think somethings been goin on between you and that broad from the get-go. Then you give her the biggest scoop of the decade on The ONeil Brothers, without us having any say in it. Somehow you get Clay to accept her. Then you clam up about why or even how you did it. Buyers remorse, little brother?"

When Dylan did look up, there was fire in his eyes. "Shut up, Pat."

He braced his hands on the bar and got in Dylans face. "Dont tell me to shut up."

"Okay." Picking up his beer, Dylan threw the contents of the gla.s.s in Pats face.

"Holy f.u.c.k!" Pat returned the salvo by reaching for the pitcher and emptying it on Dylans head. Then he, literally, leaped on top of the bar and off it, landing in a combative stance. "Come on, boy. You been spoiling for a fight, so Ill give it to you."

Dylan bolted off the stool, kicking it back, so it crashed into others, sending them domino style to the floor. He bent at the waist and tackled Pat. They both fell into the nearest table, hit it and were thrown to the floor with the force. Gla.s.s shattered. With Dylan straddling him, Pat tried to buck his brother off. He almost did it, but Dylan landed a right hook on his jaw, making him see stars.

"You son of a b.i.t.c.h." This time Pat braced on his feet and threw Dylan to the side. He jumped on top of him, raised his fist and returned the blow.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it." In a haze, Pat felt strong arms encircle him, pull him off Dylan, then a shout, "Aidan, get your a.s.s out here."

On the floor, Dylan stirred, just as Aidan appeared above them, said, "My G.o.d," and got in front of Pat.

Shucking off Liam, Pat punched Aidan, who also went down.

Dylan said, "Stay out of it, both of you," rolled to his feet and swung at Pat.

Pat ducked the blow, and it landed on Liam, who also went spiraling backward.

Dylan froze.

Liam lay on the floor with a split lip. Aidan groaned, his nose bleeding all over his white T-shirt. He caught Pats gaze and they stared at each other.

Then Dylan sank to his knees and put his hands over his face. Liam and Aidan sat up, and Pat looked at the carnage in front of him. Then Pat dropped to the floor, too, feeling a sting in his b.u.t.t; blood oozed from his knuckles. For a minute, the only sound in the room was labored breathing.

Finally, Pat couldnt take it. "s.h.i.t, Dylan, Im sorry." His voice was tormented, like he felt.

Dylan got out, "Me, too, Pat."

When they both started to get up, Liam moved between them. "Stay where you are. Were gonna have this out. Pat, you start. Get everything off your chest."