Chapter 36 – Liam
“This is everything?” I thumbed through the printouts on the pub’s worn table.
“Yep!” Kevin quipped, raising his pint, which was just foam at this point.
Nothing had changed. Da was dead, and the numbers were squeaky clean. There’d been no dip in revenue. Our activities were fully operational. They ran like a well-oiled machine.
My cousin lowered his voice. “Johny called.”
I pushed the papers into a neat stack, tapped them on the table, and then slid them into a manila envelope. “Oh?”
“He’s pissed.”
Not surprising. “And?”
Kevin pulled his upper lip under the bottom to lick the foam off. Wee hairs bristled with moisture.
Fecking pubes on his face. Other men could pull off a mustache, just not him.
“I think he’s going to try to kill you, cuz,” Kevin whispered. “There’s that business with killing his brother, but now he’s pissed you just assumed the crown.”
We’ll see if that’s true.
But this was poker. And I was playing the man.
“And what—” I lowered my voice to match his “—should I do about that?”
Delight gleamed in Kevin’s eyes. “Stop the problem while you can.”
Translation: Kill my rival.
Was Kevin baiting Johny with the same tactics?
That would leave only one relative for an assassin to take out.
That was cheaper for Kevin. I stroked my thumb thoughtfully against the edge of the yellow-gold envelope.
Was this really it? My mathlete cousin was doctoring the books, while trying to take out the strongest of our organization.
Since I suspected the nefarious plan, I didn’t need to immediately act.
I would bide my time, watch my back, and be damn sure when I pulled the trigger that Kevin was the actual threat.
“Good plan, cousin.” I rose suddenly, clapped my hand around his neck, and brought our foreheads together. “What would I do without you?”
The flash of fear in his watery blue eyes faded to triumph. “I’m here for you, Liam. Seriously. Anything you need!”
“Thank you,” I rasped and let him go.
Kevin pushed out of the booth, sauntered across the empty pub, and disappeared out the front door.
The tension in the space ebbed. I trailed my gaze across the rustic furniture.
This establishment was designed to be filled with craic, while the drinks were full and spirits were high.
Doing business at the Galway Arms after hours was like holding court in a crypt.
Memories of the good times stained the floor, and regret over bad choices perfumed the air.
I shook myself. I didn’t belong to the world of parties, and the word fun was no longer in my vocabulary. I was the king. A boss made appearances to boost morale, but my place wasn’t drinking alongside the lads. We needed a healthy distance to discern rank.
A creak in the bones of the building made me jump.
My gaze swiveled to the side.
The layout here was different. Our pub that was bombed had a curve around the edge. Still, anxiety flooded my veins as the memory of the explosion took root in my chest. The right side of my body pulsed with ghostly pain.
The fire’s hot tongues.
The air filled with smoke.
I fisted my hands and tried to breathe. I have to get out of here!
The swinging door to the kitchen opened. “Well, that was the biggest crock of shite I’ve ever heard.”
Connor.
Connor was here. On purpose. I’d asked him to be backup tonight.
I can’t let him see me panicking.
I fought through the memories, forced myself not to relive the explosion.
It was bad enough the lads saw me naked at the crowning ceremony.
They would never want to be friends with such a monster again.
Maybe it was for the best I was their boss, so I didn’t feel like I needed to socialize with them.
Connor stopped behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He poured a wee shot, tipped it back, and sighed.
“What are we going to do about him?” my friend asked with a cheeky grin.
I hmphed. “Watch him and wait.”
Tapping the envelope on the table, I shifted out of the booth.
My plan was to give the documents to Betty.
She had an eye for the unseen. Whatever Kevin was hiding, she’d find it.
There was no way we were still running strong after a monumental loss and the subsequent change in leadership.
These financial reports might be fakes. If they weren’t, it took a clever brain to hide the numbers while making others look too good to be true.
“What do you want me to do about the dissent in the ranks?” Connor stretched his arms above his head as he spoke. “There are a fair lot who think Johny-boy should be boss.”
“I’ll rally the lads in the morning,” I responded, feeling the crick in my neck from sleeping in the library last night. Tonight, I’d find a better pillow. “To keep them united, I need to keep them active. Sate their bloodlust. Channel their hunger for wealth. The usual.”
If Kevin was trying to split our loyalties, the bonds I forged now would be vitally important.
I raked a hand over my hair. Da thought we had time. Hell, I thought we had time. Even with his illness, I figured there was enough of that currency.
“Okay, I’ll set a meeting—”
“No.” I cut my friend off. “You’ll follow Gabriella.”
Connor jerked back as if I’d visibly struck him. “What? Why?”
I leveled him with a piercing stare. He shifted, dropped his gaze, and then proceeded to pour himself another shot.
“We have work to do, Liam,” Connor muttered.
I moved to join him behind the bar, but I shook my head when he offered me a drink. “It’s Tuesday.”
A vicious, animalistic snarl ripped from my best friend’s throat. The bottle slammed on the bar’s top. “Your fucking obsession with that woman is worth more than making sure the lads are loyal to you?”
“The lads will be there when the dust settles.” And I have a feeling she might not.
The thing about little birds was that they had wings.
I hadn’t taken the precaution to clip my wife’s.
Scaring her, making her miserable, was just wrong.
The alternative to making her flightless was tying her down.
But Gabriella didn’t belong in a cage, no matter how beautifully I gilded it.
That meant she was a flight risk. If the chance arose, she would flee.
Ensuring that didn’t happen was a more important threat to my life. It was more important than the possibility of division in our organization.
“Liam—” Connor shut his mouth and fumed.
“Say it.”
Breathing hard, my best friend stared at me, choosing his next words carefully. He knew as well as I did that they might be his last.
“Fucking say it,” I growled and took a step forward.
“You’re not acting rationally,” he spat.
“What’s new?” I scoffed.
Connor threw up his hands. “You’ll destroy everything over that woman. She’s not our focus.”
“He father gave her a tracker that led an assassin to her. Twice.” And then to my own father.
“But our focus needs to be here!” Connor stabbed a finger at the empty pub. The dimmed lights barely illuminated the space. The silence was deafening without the band. And the air reeked of cleaner after the lads wiped the tables and bar for the night.
“There’s nothing here,” I murmured.
There was nothing without Gabriella. Just an empty room, a heavy crown, and a bullet with my name on it, waiting in the future.
With her…there was the possibility of everything.
“Liam, mate, see reason!” Connor implored. “Don’t go losing your head over a nice pair of—”
I was in his face, gloved hand around his throat. “I dare you to finish that thought.”
“The McDonaghs have ruled Boston since it was founded,” he argued, not struggling or trying to escape.
I tightened my grip, cutting off his air, but still he didn’t fight back.
“If it burns to the ground, I’ll build it back. But I can’t make her happy if I don’t understand what is at stake.” And her Tuesday ritual was key to that knowledge. “Am I your boss or not?”
My fingers relaxed.
But only a fraction.
“Well?” I demanded.
Hurt washed across his pretty face. “Liam…how could you ask that?”
“Answer,” I snapped.
Connor lifted his hands in surrender. “You’re the boss,” he whispered.
“Then watch my wife.” I let him go.