Chapter 24
Trinity
Brody’s words sink into me like spikes.
I figured if I asked him some personal questions about Declan, he’d remind me of how horrible he is and reaffirm the importance of getting as far away from him as I can.
Instead, I just unearthed an interior wound that makes the one on his leg look mild.
The more he opens up, the more empathy stabs me through the heart.
I can tell he’s not lying. The raw emotion on his face is too organic to be a performance, and his brain is probably too messed up to fabricate a story that quickly.
No…Brody’s not far off from who I originally thought he was. A lonely man risking life and limb to earn a scrap of acceptance. Now that I know Declan Gallagher is his father—more or less—I’m starting to better understand Brody’s steadfast determination to prove himself to the other man.
That same love and connection that I always believed I lived without… He lived without it too, only his life was probably so much tougher.
I shouldn’t be empathizing with him, but my stupid heart apparently has a mind of its own.
“Everything changed after my mother died. That’s when Declan told me about the affair.
” Bitterness laces his words. “ Not that he was ever warm and fuzzy. But once she passed…he expected perfection from me, and he made me swear not to tell anyone about my mother’s infidelity.
” He fixes me with a twisted grin. “Declan was never a stellar dad to Maeve and Connor either. He was just…worse to me. You’re a Gallagher too.
You know what the fathers in this world are like. ”
“Yes.” Because I do know what mafia fathers are like.
Hardened. Prideful. Controlling.
But even with our strained relationship, my father never truly treated me like…less than.
Brody closes his eyes, his fingers clenching on the edge of the bed. “Declan should’ve killed my mother for the betrayal and me for being a reminder. But he didn’t. She got sick and revealed the truth to him shortly before she died.”
There’s a remorseful edge to Brody’s statements, almost like he truly believes that Declan should have done away with him and his mother. Picturing the sad, rejected kid he must have been after losing his mother and in a way, his father, drags a jagged nail across my heart.
Brody’s not exaggerating. Some of the men among the Irish Kings would absolutely murder their wife and child over a transgression like this. My records on that hard drive confirm that.
Maybe the fact that Declan Gallagher didn’t proves the man is capable of restraint.
After all, Brody’s still alive to tell the tale, though he’s carried out his mission like his life depends on it.
Which means Declan likely never let Brody forget for more than a second that he spared him.
Instead, he’s probably made Brody feel like an object in his possession. A weapon to be used and disposed of whenever he stops being useful.
Brody’s definitely treated me like that. And I’d bet money that he received that training from his old man.
Brody’s miserable. Like me, he’s always felt like an outsider, like he doesn’t belong with his own family. He just wants acceptance.
I have the urge to reach out and hug him. Embrace both the sad child and the hardened man. But—
Lightbulbs flare on in my head.
I hoped Brody would give me an excuse to leave him here with a clear conscience. Instead, this conversation provides me with something else.
Leverage.
I possess the one thing guaranteed to tempt him above all else…and an opportunity for redemption.
Or at the very least, a way to trick Brody into helping me do what Finn and I need him to do.
I lean forward in the chair. “All right. I think we’ve established the facts well enough. If I walk out that door, you’re a dead man.”
He snaps his jaw shut, his expression blank save for the furious fire blazing in those hazel eyes.
“Let me ask you this.” I lower the gun. “If there were another option for you, would you take it?”
He scowls. “Enough riddles, Trinity.”
“Yes or no?”
Brody lurches toward me, like he wants to squeeze my neck again. He gasps in pain and pulls up short, clutching his wounded leg. After lording his power over me, it must kill him to be too injured to boss me around.
Though my heart kicks up a notch, I’m careful not to flinch.
He can’t hurt me in his current condition.
Still, I tighten my grip on the gun.
“Finn’s sending some of his men to pick me up in Austin.” I ignore the inner voice that screams what a horrible idea this is. “And if you’re willing to escort me safely to the collection point, I’ll get my brother to spare your life.”
Brody’s eyes widen. Then a smug smile settles on his mouth. “Nice try. More like you need me to get you to the collection point.”
I return his smile, refusing to rise to his bait.
This time, I’m the one with a carrot to dangle.
“If you do a good job, there may be room for you among the ranks of the Kings back in New York City.”
I’m bluffing my ass off, so I hope he can’t see past my poker face in his current state.
The best bluffs are the ones that could be true, that force people to stop and think. No matter how much they despise the person offering.
And that’s exactly what Brody’s doing. He lies still, his jaw slack as he stares at me like a starving man stares at a feast.
Time to add the cherry on top. “Just think, Brody. If this works out, you could get the one thing Declan has always, always wanted.”
Brody’s eyes sharpen. “And what’s that?”
I reveal my ace. “Acceptance with the Irish Kings.”