Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
KIERAN
Sean finally made his move.
I knew it was coming, but for it to happen in broad daylight in front of civilians is a low blow even for him.
Our men know what they signed up for when they decided to work for us. They know death is always around the corner.
But innocent people going for a drink after work didn’t exactly ask to get their brains blown out.
Of all the nights Sean finally decided to find his balls, it had to be tonight.
I think of all the effort Riley went to in order to cheer me up, and once again I’m letting business come between us.
How many more evenings am I going to let him ruin before enough is enough?
All I can do is hope that Brennan has most of the cleanup under control so I can get back to her as quickly as possible. Because I have every intention of having my dessert as well as a slice of that delicious torte.
As I’m about to open the front door, Ronan calls out my name.
For one sickening moment, I think something’s happened upstairs, that maybe Ciara’s finally gone into full labor and he’s about to tell me the babies are coming whether we’re ready or not, but he doesn’t.
“I meant to tell you earlier. Callum rang.”
Callum McCarthy, Ciara’s piece-of-shit brother.
Ciara left the McCarthy name behind when she joined our family, and for good reason. I’ve never met a weaker man, and somehow Ronan still insists on keeping him around. For what, I have no idea.
“What the fuck does he want?”
Ronan blows out a hard breath as he tucks his hands into the pockets of his crumpled slacks.
“He heard about our little run-ins with Sean and thought he could help. He said his father knew Sean.”
“Good for him.”
“He said he helped Sean make a few power moves back in the day.”
“You’re telling me that Ryan McCarthy gave Sean a helping hand up the ladder? Why am I only hearing this now?”
“I was going to tell you, but…” He gestures upstairs, where Ciara’s pained moans can be heard. “I’m trying not to leave her side more than I have to.”
I drag a hand down my face. “So, Callum thinks this makes him useful, does he? Or does he simply want to keep his ass out of the fire?”
“We own him, remember? He’s tied to us whether you like him or not, so you might as well get something out of him.”
“Fine. But tell him to call me from now on. If he’s got something worth hearing, I’ll decide what to do with it. But I have some bigger shit to deal with right now.”
“Is there something I should know?” Ronan frowns.
Before I can answer, Ciara lets out another cry upstairs.
The sound cuts straight through me, and my body tenses.
I don’t know how the hell Ronan can bear hearing the woman he loves in pain like that. Though from the look on his face, it seems like he’s barely hanging on.
“I need to get back in there. Can you handle this?”
“Go. Stay with your wife. I’ve got this under control.”
He claps my shoulder once, then disappears upstairs.
I wait until he’s out of sight before throwing open the door and stepping out into the night.
By the time I arrive at the bar, the cleanup crew is already hard at work. Broken glass crunches under my feet as I wade between the overturned tables and splintered chairs. Dark pools of blood seep into the floorboards, and the air reeks of smoke and spilled whiskey.
Brennan walks beside me, his jaw tight, as we watch body bags being zipped up.
Our men make quick work of sweeping up the shell casings and mopping up the blood, making sure to erase every last bit of evidence.
“You should talk to Iain,” Brennan says under his breath, nodding his head in the direction of the bar. “He’s the one who called me.”
Iain looks up as I approach, his eyes wide. “Boss…”
He’s nursing a pretty bad split lip, and his eye is swollen shut, but those are surface-level wounds. They’ll be gone in a few days, though I can’t say the same for the men being carried out in body bags.
“What happened?” My voice is flat and sharp, and Iain swallows hard.
“We were having a few drinks. Nothing heavy, just winding down. Then they stormed in, Sean’s men, completely out of nowhere. We didn’t have time to react before they just started firing.”
My teeth grind together as I take another look around the bar.
“One of them grabbed me, put a gun in my face,” Iain continues, his voice hoarse. “Said to tell you something.”
“What?”
Iain doesn’t reply, so I slam my fist down on the bar.
“What did he fucking say?”
“T-that Sean won’t stop until you’re both rotting in the ground.”
“Who, me and Kieran?” Brennan asks, but Iain shakes his head.
“Me and Riley,” I finish.
“Yeah.”
“Of course, he did,” I hiss through my teeth. “You’ve still got two hands, so I suggest you help clean up, seeing as your lack of reflexes caused this mess.”
I stalk away before the rage boiling inside me spills out, and I end up putting Iain in a body bag myself.
But that rage only intensifies when my phone buzzes in my pocket with a call from a withheld number, though I have a sinking feeling I know who it is.
“This better be good.”
“I heard about your little bar problem. Nasty business. You must be thinking about your next move,” Callum drawls.
His self-assured tone grates on my nerves.
If it wasn’t for my family’s help, he would have been rotting in the ground a long time ago. Though I suppose there’s still time for that to happen, depending on what he can offer me.
“Get to the point. How do you plan to help, or are you just calling to remind me how much I hate you?”
“Straight to the point, I like that.” Callum chuckles. “Fine. I’ve got a friend, he owes me a favor.”
“Just like you owe my family?”
“Save the lecture, Sullivan. Your brother already gave it to me, multiple times.”
“Just making sure the message sinks in.”
“That you own my ass? Yeah, message received, loud and clear.”
“Ronan says you have some intel.”
“That’s right. Like I said, a friend owes me a favor, and friends of friends owe him. He can make sure Sean’s exactly where you want him, when you want him. It makes for a perfect little trap.”
“Having that many people involved, things can get lost in translation.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, McCarthy, but I don’t trust a single word that comes out of your mouth.”
Brennan stalks toward me, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. His black shirt and slacks are covered in dust, and his face is a hard mask. At the mention of the McCarthy name, his eyebrows shoot up, but I only roll my eyes.
“From the sounds of it, you’re not exactly in a position to turn down my help,” Callum retorts.
My jaw aches from clenching it so hard. “You’re lucky we’re not having this conversation in person.”
“Or what? You’d blow my brains out?”
“I might.”
“The threats are getting old, Sullivan.”
“Get to the fucking point.”
Brennan chuckles under his breath as he leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The plan is to tell Sean one of his dealers is ripping him off. You know how he is, there’s no way he would let something like that slide. He’ll show up in person, hot and ready to kill. It will be the perfect time for you to strike.”
It’s a solid plan, and I hate that it’s solid.
“And what exactly does your little friend get out of this?”
Ally or not, Callum always has an angle, and I don’t trust that this information isn’t going to end up biting me on the ass.
“Only the satisfaction of staying on the winning side, Kieran. And maybe a little gratitude from me.” His voice drips with smugness that makes my skin crawl.
I let out a slow breath. “I don’t like that you’re involved. You’ve been on the wrong side of too many deals, Callum. Don’t fuck this up for me.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, you have to admit, we make a good team when we want to.”
I snort. “I make no such admission. Just make sure your friend does his job. If Sean slips through, it’s on you.”
Callum laughs. “I like that attitude. Don’t worry. Sean won’t see it coming. He’ll be too blinded by his own greed to think to cover his back.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” I hang up.
“What the hell did he want?” Brennan asks.
“He says he can guarantee a location for us to attack Sean. He’s going to feed him intel that one of his weapons dealers is ripping him off so that he has no choice but to show up at the shipment.”
Brennan raises a brow. “You think it’s worth our time?”
I exhale slowly. “Yeah. As much as I hate it, the plan works. Sean won’t ignore someone stealing from him.”
“Good,” Brennan says grimly. “About time we stop reacting and put that fucker in the ground.”
“We’ve got Lorcan’s intel on the weapons shipment as well as Callum’s bait. It should be enough.”
“Let’s hope so.”
After Brennan and I have got the bar cleaned up and the bodies accounted for, we head back to Ronan’s place.
The house is cast in darkness, with shadows stretching across the polished floors from the security lights outside. From the looks of it, everyone is asleep.
Well, everyone except for Ronan.
He’s sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, all evidence of the incredible dinner Riley made me nowhere to be seen.
Ronan doesn’t even look up when we enter. He’s too lost in his own head to notice.
“Get him a drink,” I mutter under my breath to Brennan.
“There’s liquor in the cabinet above the refrigerator,” Ronan says.
“So, he is alive,” Brennan chuckles. “You look like a fucking corpse, brother.”
“Say that to me again, and you’ll be a corpse.”
Brennan only laughs as he opens the cabinet and pulls out a half-empty bottle of bourbon.
“How’s Ciara?” I take the seat I vacated only a few hours ago.
“Asleep, finally.” Ronan lifts his head. “It seems like the Braxton Hicks have subsided for the time being.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Yeah, but it just means she could continue like this for a few weeks yet.”
“Hell, yeah!” Brennan exclaims, making Ronan and me both jump. “Who made this?” He pulls the rest of the torte out of the refrigerator.
“Riley made it,” I say.
“You lucked out, brother. Not only is she hot, but she cooks?”
“Don’t ever call my wife hot again.”
“Just stating a fact.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t notice.”
“Hard not to.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry, Ronan, Ciara’s hot too. Though, maybe not when she’s trying to push two babies out of her—”
I clench my teeth. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“Just trying to lighten the mood.”
Ronan groans. “I hate seeing her like this.”
Brennan shoves the torte and liquor in front of Ronan along with a fork. “Have some of this, it’s fucking delicious.”
“What about Sean?” Ronan ignores Brennan.
“I think we’ve got him. Lorcan’s intel on the weapons shipment will line up with Callum’s, so we should be able to take him out in one hit.”
“Hell, yeah, we will,” Brennan says through a mouthful of torte.
“Use some cutlery, you neanderthal.” Ronan scoffs, tossing him the fork. He turns to me as Brennan starts digging into the torte. “So, you’re sure about this?”
I nod as I reach for the bourbon and pull out the cork.
“Don’t have much of a choice.” I take a swig from the bottle.
I watch Ronan, his knuckles whitening as he balls his hands into fists.
There’s some relief there that Ciara’s pain has stopped, for now, but I can still see the guilt clawing at him.
Brennan catches the tension too and smirks. “Christ, Ronan. I’ve seen you put a bullet between a man’s eyes without blinking, but labor has you looking ready to faint.”
“Fuck off. I’m handling it better than you would.”
“Nah, I would take it like a champ. Kieran, on the other hand, would definitely be the type of dad to pass out when asked to cut the cord.”
“He’s not wrong.” I shrug, and Ronan huffs a laugh.
Death I can understand. Pain I can compartmentalize. Planning, executing, and eliminating threats is something I can control. It's all mine to manage. But birth?
Birth is messy and unpredictable, two things that I don’t do well with. There’s something primal and terrifying about it, knowing that I would be able to do nothing but stand there and watch.
Ronan looks at each of us in turn. “Ever think we’d be here?”
I frown. “What, waiting for your wife to give birth?”
Brennan chuckles. “I think you were always destined to have a gun in one hand and a diaper in the other.”
Ronan scowls, rubbing at his temple.
“Welcome to the life you chose.”
Ronan exhales, running a hand through his hair. “And if things go sideways with Sean?”
I smirk before taking another swig of bourbon. “Trust me, they won’t.”
“I admire your arrogance, brother.”
“I think it’s more confidence than arrogance.”
“You can call it whatever you like, but your head is still lodged firmly up your own ass,” Brennan mutters through a mouthful of torte.
“Remind me to ask Riley to add rat poison to the recipe next time.” I reach across the table and yank the dessert out of Brennan’s hands.
Brennan grins, revealing his chocolate-stained teeth.
Ronan snatches the bottle of bourbon and takes a swig.
“I’m going to regret leaving you two in charge.”