61. Cian
Cian
H alf eaten lunch dishes litter the table before us, even though it’s far past afternoon. Through the windows, dark storm clouds spit on the city streets as the sun sets with an eerie glow. For the past few hours we’ve been sorting through what information we have available to us.
Early today, Brendan spread word far and wide about how he killed me. He may as well have placed an announcement on the front page of the paper. Everyone knows of my supposed demise. We’re dead. We plan to stay that way for as long as possible.
The Manor staff have been very accommodating of our special circumstances and requirements. They’ve delivered us clothing and other essentials. Most importantly, they’ve remained tight-lipped about the fact that we’re under their roof. Hidden away.
Blake scrolls on his phone, reading the text. “My little birdies—” his informants “—say your gang is divided. Some followed Brendan, while others have fled the compound. Ah, it seems your man Wolfe is gathering them to him as we speak.”
“And where’s that?” I ask the man who seems to know everyone’s business in this city.
“Two sources sent word that they’re on Monahan turf.”
I scowl in thought. “Do we think the Monahans will get their hands dirty and help us overthrow Brendan, or are they only providing a safe house for Wolfe and the rest of the men?”
Dimitri speaks up, “Do you need the Monahans? I thought the reason for you two marrying,” he glances at Ravenna, then back to me, “was to unite the Pontrelli family and your Gaelic Devils. If you need men, isn’t Maximo Pontrelli supposed to have your back?”
“He’s supposed to,” I confirm.
“I’ve just heard back from him.” Roman scowls. “He says because you’re dead, his consigliere and underboss advise against involving them in an Irish turf war. But, he’s offered to help with the aftermath. He’ll smooth things over with the authorities once this is over.”
“I suppose that’s better than nothing.” Though it’s far less backing than I expected.
“Fuck them,” Dimitri spits out. “You don’t need them. The Kozlov Bratva will be at your side and we’ll get this over with tonight.” He squeezes Arianna’s hand as she gazes worriedly at him.
I’m disappointed, to say the least, that since Maximo Pontrelli thinks I’m dead, he’s unwilling to stand by the treaty’s terms agreed on by his predecessor. I’m also not about to tell him I’m alive and well. The more people who know that, the sooner the rumor will start spreading.
Wolfe may have already sought help from Maximo, and when turned away he went to the Monahans.
In my mind, this reconfigures who I’m aligning myself with and who I don’t give a fuck about.
Maximo better never come crawling to me for help.
I’ll return the favor by lining some politicians pockets and call it good.
The Monahans, however, have just gained another ounce of my respect.
I’ll owe them big for this—assuming we all survive.
“I need to contact Wolfe. We need to coordinate with him, the Monahans, and Dimitri’s brotherhood. Most of the traitors will be at the compound, including Brendan. We should have enough men to surround it and take it by force.”
“If that’s the plan, then I have toys I’d like to play with,” Blake says. “You don’t mind a little structural damage to the place, do you?”
“Not if it’s necessary. Just don’t hit the garage.”
“Deal,” he drawls.
“I’m going to call Wolfe. It’s time.” I march over to the landline phone and dial his number.
The first time I call, it goes to voicemail.
He probably thinks it’s spam. So I call again, and again.
Normally, I’d leave a message, but in case his phone isn’t with him, I don’t need anyone else hearing what I have to say. Or discovering I’m alive.
On the fourth try, he finally picks up with a snarled, “ What? ”
“Good to hear your voice, too.”
A long pause crackles through the line. “I knew you weren’t fucking dead.” Wolfe laughs.
“Thanks to Ravenna, but that’s another story.”
“Is she still alive too?”
“Yes. We’re both fine. Listen, is it true you’re with the Monahans?”
“Yep. Those Italian fucks didn’t offer much help, so I figured I’d look closer to home. Cormac and his guys are ready to help us take back what’s ours.”
I hum in appreciation. “We have the Kozlov Bratva with us too.”
“Then Brendan and his fuck-face traitors don’t stand a chance. Are we going tonight?”
“Yeah. Here’s the plan…” I fill him in, trusting Wolfe to work out the finer details with Cormac and his brothers.
While I’m on the phone with Wolfe, Dimitri gets word to his brotherhood. Roman just smuggled in a nice assortment of weapons he’s willing to let us use—automatic guns mostly, some semi-automatics, and grenades. We’re leaving the big stuff to Blake.
Ravenna curls her hand around my bicep, drawing my full attention. “Come back to me in one piece, amore mio .”
“I’ve already died once in the last twenty-four hours, I’d say chances are slim for that to happen again.”
Her brow creases. “I don’t think that’s how death works.”
“Death will be plenty busy tonight without looking my way. I’ll come back to you. I promise.”
“You better.” She rises onto her toes, her lips finding mine. I deepen our kiss, my tongue slides against hers, and I softly moan. I’ll never tire of her taste. Or her amber scent.
Reluctantly, I draw back. “Stay here and keep everyone safe. We’ll be back by dawn.”
“I love you.”
“I love you with all my heart and soul, broc meala .”
N ever in all my life did I think I’d be in this position; breaking into my own compound.
The bright side is I know the security system, it’s defenses, and the camera positions.
I knew exactly how I’d get by all of those if I were breaking in on my own.
With the Monahans, Russians, Wolfe and my own men at my back, we’re going to set off alarms. No way around it.
The key is to get inside as quickly as possible.
Working together, a couple of us take out the security guards, while others scale the wall like spider monkeys. We’re inside in ten seconds flat.
Part of me is relieved at how easy that was, and the other half is annoyed. Once this is over, the entire grounds will get a new, much more secure system. One that’s professionally installed, not whatever this shit Brendan saddled me with. I’m also adding wire or spikes to the top of the wall.
As soon as we’re inside, area lights begin to turn on, illuminating the main house and parts of the grounds. Any moment now, the enemy will come pouring out to meet us. Fucking traitors.
Blake, the crazy fucker, brought an RPG. He carries the rocket launcher over his shoulder and advances into the compound. Taking aim at the main apartment complex, he fires.
One wall partially collapses, taking out a corner of the building. The damage isn’t extensive, but it’s enough to have everyone who was hiding in there, getting the fuck out.
That’s when all hell breaks loose.
Blake reloads, hitting the apartments again. A few others take inspiration from him and hurl grenades into the building windows. Glass shatters. Gunfire rents the night air.
As men run from the explosions, firing randomly at us, we manage to pick them off. But I have yet to see the face I’m searching for. Brendan better fucking be here.
Everyone’s seen a photo of him and knows what he looks like. They’ve also been ordered to leave him for me.
Like an army of ants, we swarm the place until we’re in and around every single building. At some point the tide turns and instead of fighting against us, the enemy drops their weapons and surrenders. Others flee.
Since I have no use for traitors or cowards, we gun them all down.
Wolfe and I cover each other as we search the attic of the main house.
We’ve swept through every floor, all the way to the top.
I’m beginning to worry that Brendan spent the night elsewhere.
If that’s true, then we won’t finish this tonight.
We’ll have to start again. This isn’t done until he’s dead.
Broken, discarded furniture and stacks of dusty boxes have turned the wide open space into a maze. It’s the perfect hiding place for a rat.
We weave our way through, guns at the ready, senses straining to catch the slightest movement or sound. We’ve reached the back wall, when we’re forced to turn back. Dead end.
There’s no one here. Disappointment washes over me like a cold shower.
That’s when I see it, the subtle shift of a shadow behind an old couch near the windows. Catching Wolfe’s eye, I nod toward the furniture. He gives one sharp nod.
Together, we approach. Floorboards creek beneath our boots.
We’re just about on the shadow when it stands up. It takes me two seconds to evaluate the scene in front of me. Brendan. Device in his hand. Reckless insanity shining in his eyes.
“Stop! Don’t shoot!” Brendan frantically glances back and forth at us. “I’ve wired this place with explosives. If my thumb leaves this button, it’s all over. We all die.”
Frustration burns through my veins. Cowardly little shit. We’re at a standstill.
No one moves. Wolfe and I keep our guns trained on Brendan, whose hands shake as he holds it toward us.
“You’ve lost,” I tell Brendan. “You’re through.”
“Fuck you! I knew I should have put a bullet in your head before dropping you into the river.”
“Deactivate that trigger,” I command.
He glares at me. “As soon as I do that, you’ll shoot me.”
He’s right. There’s no version of the future where he’s leaving this room alive. Which is a truth Brendan seems to read in my expression. His eyes narrow.
“At least I get to take you down with me.” He lifts his thumb.
Time seems to switch into slow motion as Wolfe and I flat out run toward the attic windows. We’re on the fourth floor, but I’ll take the odds of surviving that fall over being blown to pieces.
Shielding my face with my arms, I break through the thin glass. My momentum launches me out the window.
Then I’m falling.