He didn’t have to finish the sentence for Tasha to know what came next. Damn it, what was Jen thinking? She’d never said a word. “He didn’t call your parents, did he?”
The last thing Shawn and Ellen Finn needed was a trip to the police station to pick up their wayward princess. Between Ellen breaking her wrist on her sixtieth birthday and discovering she had osteoporosis, and Shawn retiring earlier than he wanted to due to his blood pressure issues, they had enough on their plates.
“No, thank God. He called Brady around the same time the man I had on her called me. We were able to get her released before she was booked.”
Tasha froze. “The man you had... You have someone following your sister?”
He pointed one finger straight at her and she had the insane urge to snap it between her teeth. “You just said you had friends watching her too.”
She whacked his hand down. “Point that thing somewhere else, honey. I said friends, not spies. Paranoid much, Senator? Is Jeremy’s house bugged? Any cameras in the restrooms at the pub? Do you have Seamus tailed to his PTA meetings? I hear they can get pretty subversive.”
“I’m trying to keep her safe, damn it.” Stephen flexed his fingers and then ran his hand through his thick chestnut hair. “I know better than anyone that she deserves her privacy, but even you have to admit she hasn’t been herself for months.”
Tasha sighed, unable to deny it. Hadn’t she just been thinking the same thing?
“Seamus has already come close to firing her twice due to customer complaints,” he continued. “He said when she shows up for work she has a bad attitude, bruises and hickeys on her damn neck that do nothing to distract from her new tattoo.”
Ah, the tattoo. Jen had gotten a triskelion on the back of her neck to symbolize both her Irish heritage and her new connection to BDSM. She was also planning a piercing that none but her very close friends would be able to see, but Stephen probably didn’t want—and certainly didn’t need—to know that much about his sister.
He shook his head, as if completely bewildered. “At first I thought Scott might be back in the picture. That he was the one causing her erratic behavior. Maybe hurting her. But then I realized where she was going and what she was doing, and I thought it would be best to keep an eye on her.”
“You realized she was going to a club Owen and I both frequent, but you thought having some stranger stalk her was a better idea than giving me a call?” Had he been that intent on avoiding her?
He ignored her glare. “Somehow I got the feeling you wouldn’t approve of my concern. But he’s not a stranger. He’s an old acquaintance who owes me a favor.”
“A favor?”
“A big one. And that girl needs a keeper if she’s going to insist on making one bad decision after another. I trust Trick to protect her without stepping over the line.”
“Trick? What kind of name is that? Did he get that in jail?”
She’d been going out of her way to be a smartass, but Stephen responded with a nod, surprising her. “Trick is the kind of name you give yourself when being Tristan makes you the target of the fist-happy thugs in Corrections. He’s a bit hard to know, but he’s done his time and he’s good at his job.”
Tasha stared at him. Stephen had a man with a criminal background following his baby sister, but he thought going to the club was a bad decision? That her lifestyle was a bad decision?
She crossed her arms defensively. “Jen likes how it feels, Stephen. She likes being the focus of someone’s attention. There isn’t anything wrong with that.”
Stephen snorted. “Jennifer hasn’t lacked for attention since the day she was born. She’s never lacked for anything.”
Except a direction. They both knew it was true, but she wasn’t going to be the one to say it. Not when she was in the middle of defending the girl.
“Don’t be thick,” she scolded severely. “You know what kind of attention I’m talking about. Up until now, her only experience with sex and romance has been with a douchebag who, by all accounts, only cared about getting himself off—which I imagine took all of three minutes before he rolled over and fell asleep.”
Stephen’s flinch was satisfying.
“Poor baby,” she taunted. “If you didn’t want to think about your sister having sex, you shouldn’t have followed her because that’s what she’s doing. Well, that and getting tied up and whipped by experienced, well-vetted Doms.”
He looked like he was going to be ill and Tasha almost felt sorry for him. Almost. “She isn’t on drugs, Stephen. And other than that one close brush with the law, she hasn’t committed any crimes. She may not be making the smartest decisions, but she’s making them for herself instead of hiding from them, which is something you should appreciate.”