Nineteen
Max
The next few days were chaotic and I spent half of my time at the office and the other half with Jonny and Amber. It had been confirmed that the fire had been started on purpose and I knew exactly who the culprit was. Alexander fucking Harker. I wondered if he’d seen me at the house with Amber thus sending him into a jealous rage. Amber had come clean about seeing him and told me the fucker had delivered loads of flowers to her house. She also explained that she’d felt like someone had been following her. Jonny hadn’t put extra security on as he didn’t know anything about Harker having made contact. And the fact that I hadn’t told him that I’d seen Harker with Amber that day made me feel like a sack of shit.
I’d fucked up in the worst possible way.
Amber also told me about what had happened. How she was taken when she was fifteen by Harker and how their relationship had progressed. The man had manipulated a minor in the worst possible way. She hadn’t gone into detail about the night he had taken her virginity but she did say he lost his temper easily. I felt sick to my stomach when she explained how he had beaten her one night with his belt. And how the buckled end had torn at her flesh. That was the reason for the scars Amber had at the bottom of her back. The thought of him hurting her, or any other woman in that way made me see red and I knew I had to make a hard choice.
Having spoken to both Gabriel and Leonie one night I made my decision. I couldn’t protect Amber or her family from someone like Harker. He wasn’t part of my circle; he was much darker than that .
I decided to find Kai Kinlan. He was the only one who could protect her. I had to make him an offer he couldn’t refuse for her safety.
When the insane idea of reaching out to him had hatched, I researched him on the internet and came up with nada. The only news about the Kinlan family was of Gerard’s arrest and ongoing court case. There was nothing written about his son or any other family member. His name came up on Companies House as the Director of several haulage companies and that was it. I’d even gone back to the old vault warehouse where Kai had held Leonie, wondering if he’d have offices there but I suppose you don’t shit on your own doorstep.
In the end, I’d been forced to go through Gabe. My friend, as you can imagine, kicked the hell off, saying I was a crazy fucker to go anywhere near the Irish mafia, but I eventually convinced him. I was forced to explain what had happened to Amber and how I felt about her. Gabriel being the shrewd fucker had seen through my bullshit and had known I had feelings for her before I did.
Gabriel also understood my protective instincts having fallen in love with Leonie.
I knew I was in love with Amber but I needed to be strong and dwelling on that emotion was a head fuck considering everything that was going on.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I tried to remain focused on what was important. I didn’t usually do nervous, but under the circumstances who could blame me?
Gabriel had explained that Kai was now running part of his father’s empire from an old storage hub. He had liquidated his father’s assets and reregistered the businesses under a new name. Of course, he’d have to, the old portion was still under investigation.
The premises he was operating from were on a back street behind Tottenham Court Tube Station on the edge of Soho; not far from Gabriel’s building.
To the naked eye, the place looked legit, behind the scenes not so much I imagined. I wasn’t sure what type of business Kai ran from there, but it would be a smoke-and-mirrors scenario. It appeared that after Kai’s father was sent down by his stepdaughter Kai had been forced to step in or lose everything that had been built; even those businesses which were established legally.
Gabriel said that although he’d always disliked both the Kinlan’s, Kai had at least attempted to go legit.
As I followed one of Kai’s associates , I wasn’t so sure. There was an underbelly there, it just wasn’t showing in plain sight.
Like father, like son, was my thinking.
When I’d pulled up in my car, I stared through the windscreen as the rain poured down it like floods of tears for at least twenty minutes. Eventually, after spotting me with the engine still running a few yards from the entrance, the meaty thug by the security barrier motioned me over.
After confirming my name through his radio, I was stunned when the barrier had lifted and he’d let me through. I drove slowly and parked beside three SUVs with blacked-out windows and a black Ferrari with a private plate. The lettering showed it belonged to one of the Kinlan’s. There was no doubt in my mind that it was Kai’s.
Another rough-looking bloke had met me in a small waiting area, introducing himself as Hamish. I was then led through the place with no blindfold and escorted to the big man’s office. If the shit they were doing in the warehouse was dodgy, I’d witnessed the entire operation. The whole place reeked of immoral activity and once again I regretted my decision to seek an audience with him.
I couldn’t imagine an experienced gangster would keep anything incriminating lying around; but who knew? It was as far from my world as you could get.
As I walked through the factory floor, it all appeared normal and those working looked fairly content. There were even a few laughs flying around. They were all as rough as fuck of course .
As I stood, impatiently waiting inside Kai Kinlan’s office, the realisation that I had sought out a meeting with one of London’s biggest uprising mafia bosses hit me like a sledgehammer.
What the hell was I thinking?
Because you need him, he is the only one who understands how that prick Harker’s mind works.
I considered it as a take-one-to-know-one scenario.
But what if they were friends or past associates?
I glanced around the space. It was neat, but dimly lit and carried an ominous vibe. Kinlan’s office was on the second floor and overlooked the warehouse. God only knew what was in the containers that littered the floor space there. Guns, drugs, coffee grounds—bodies? The whirring of the forklift as it moved back and forth had started to get on my nerves.
Feeling tense, I scanned the rest of the room. Filing cabinets with locks, ran down one wall and there was a bar at the far end of the office with assorted bottles of booze and glasses stacked there. There were also pictures on the walls and a corkboard with various notices stuck to it. I decided against scrutinising them.
The room was decorated with oak wooden panelling; it partly resembled the headmaster’s office at school, just darker and more depressing. I was surprised there were no animal heads mounted on the walls and yes, I meant animal heads, not human ones; they were probably displayed somewhere lower key. There were also several CCTV screens on one side of the door highlighting different areas of the warehouse and its grounds.
Kinlan’s desk carried numerous files and there were two closed laptops. I narrowed my eyes at the large leather chair tucked under there. Boss Man’s throne, where I imagined he lorded over his minions. There were also a couple of chairs facing the desk. I decided against taking a seat. Turning my back to the door wasn’t a good idea as I needed to be on my guard .
I perched on the desk and folded my arms, watching the door, waiting. My sense of survival sharpened as I heard voices down the corridor.
I checked my watch; I’d been waiting almost twenty minutes, and I wasn’t the most patient of men.
Screwing my eyes up, there was a suspicious-looking stain near the door which drew my attention. Was that blood? Jesus, if I wasn’t so desperate, I would have been high-tailing it out of there.
Suddenly I heard footsteps and took a deep, calming breath. I could do this. I was a big fucker, an experienced fighter and could handle myself. Under normal circumstances anyway. These were as far away from that as possible. At the end of the day, I wasn’t armed. There wasn’t a person on the planet who could battle against a bullet; well, superman I supposed. A list of superheroes shot into my thoughts; OMG I was losing it.
“What is that clown doing in my office?” Kinlan said to the guy who showed me in there earlier. Our eyes met through the glass panel of his office door, and I pushed to my feet and lowered my gaze, pretending to check the phone I clutched. I had Gabe’s number ready and could call him with just one tap. I didn’t want to get into a stare-down before I’d even had the chance to give the guy my pitch.
“Sean told me to let him in. He said he was involved in some shit that went off the other week? Said you’d want to see him,” his minion replied as they stood outside the door.
That shit would have been Leonie’s rescue.
“I could have seen him in the yard, not up here. And you left him alone in my office , are you fucking retarded?” Kinlan barked, unimpressed.
“Sean suggested you’d need to see him in private.”
“Why would I need to see him in private? Do I not trust my staff?” I could feel Kinlan’s eyes on me as I scrolled through my phone, surely, they knew I could hear them? The door creaked and from their footfall, they both stepped into the room.
“Yes, but—I was only following Sean’s orders,” he replied in a glum voice. Did they know I could hear them?
Kinlan released a tortured sigh before he said, “Hamish, remind me why I haven’t had you killed yet?”
Fuck, my heart thumped against my rib cage and I peered up, pocketing my phone.
“My old man?” the fat prick, ‘Hamish’ said with uncertainty.
Kinlan’s eyes met mine and he shook his head in despair, “Precisely. Get out of my sight.”
The order was curt and one that would no doubt be followed. I wanted to join the poor motherfucker on his way out. My courage was fading fast as I shared air with someone so dangerous.
The atmosphere in the room crackled as Kinlan pushed the door closed with some force. God I could use a smoke.
As I watched him stalk around his office moving past me, I took him in. He was a swarthy sod, tall and well-built and covered in tats but he wasn’t as big as me or as mean-looking. The new Mafia boss carried an intenseness though; one which would probably make the toughest character shit themselves. He was still a thug; just one who wore made-to-measure suits from Gieves until Gerard had pressured the Head of the school to take him back. Fuck !
As he stopped at the opposite side of the desk to me, our gazes locked and he tossed his phone and keys onto the surface without breaking eye contact. Talking of breaking, I wondered how many legs this guy had done that too.
“Mr Kinlan,” I said respectfully, offering him my hand. His eyes dropped to my raised fingers and then back to my face before he lowered himself into his seat. He ignored my offered handshake, and I lowered my arm. Yep, there was no doubt about it. This man was now as diabolical as his father had been. Much more danger radiated off him now than that day at the vault.
I glanced around. “Your office is quite nice. I’m surprised,” I complimented, attempting to forget about the dodgy stain. His mouth curled slightly but his face was expressionless.
“What did you expect, thumbscrews and dead bodies?”
“Something like that,” I replied dryly. There was a beat of silence as Kinlan’s phone vibrated and started to shuffle across the table by itself. He glanced down at it before plucking it to his ear and holding a finger to his lips to motion for me to stay silent.
“Sean, this better be important,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. His expression was blank, giving nothing away as he listened to the guy on the other end of the phone. I glanced around his office, trying to look like I couldn’t give two shits who he was talking to.
“Yes, that’s what I said. He did? That will be the ketamine.”
My stomach twisted, wasn’t ketamine a horse tranquiliser or some shit like that?
From the sudden tone of his voice, I severely doubted they were talking about a pigging horse. I fought the unexpected urge to laugh. Out of all the crazy shit I’d done in my time, this was at the top of the shit heap. Visiting a mafia boss and asking for help was an all-time low.
“I don’t care. Bring Cillian in. I want to know how much he stole from my father,” Kinlan growled, his tone suggesting he was pissed. He then switched languages so I couldn’t understand and ended the call, throwing the phone back onto his desk.
I inhaled, and gave him an amused look, “So how does it feel now you’ve dethroned your dad?” I wasn’t sure that idle chit-chat was the way to go, especially not whilst pointing out that his father was now probably being fucked from behind twice a day in prison. But you live and learn.
The silence that followed was long and calculated and Kinlan’s eyes narrowed as he said, “Gutsy little fucker, aren’t you? Don’t ever talk about my Da.” You would never know the guy had Irish roots apart from a word here and there. Da was an Irish version of Dad.
With a flick of his wrist, he ordered me to sit. I noticed a flicker of pain as he shifted in his chair, no doubt the gunshot wound to his side was still sore.
A thick silence sat over his desk between us as I thought about where to start.
“If you’d like to tell me why you’re here this century it would be helpful.”
“I need something from you,” I blurted, attempting to swallow the huge lump my earlier cockiness had put in my throat.
He contemplated my words before replying, “If you’re thinking about trying to blackmail me for what you witnessed at the vault, I’d advise you to reconsider.”
“Do I look like I’m stupid?” I barked out, shocked that he thought I had that level of guts.
A derisive curl to his upper lip appeared as he watched me, “Do you really want me to answer that?”
We stared at each other for a beat or two before I explained. “I come in peace, I’m not your enemy.”
His lip curled with genuine amusement, “I know you’re not. To be my enemy, you’d have to be at my level and you fall considerably short of that. You’re an annoyance who thinks he has something on me.” And I did but I wasn’t about to go down that route. I’d seen what happened in the movies when people tried to blackmail the mob. Concrete shoes never looked good on anyone. I was Italian leather all the way.
His expression told me he didn’t give a shit either way. It would take someone more powerful than me to ruffle this fucker. I had never met anyone as cocksure, “You’re wrong, I’m not here to blackmail you either.”
Cracking his tatted knuckles, he shot me a disinterested glare. “Wise decision. This should be good. So, what the fuck do you want?” His fingers started to drum against the desk and it was unnerving.
And there it was. Time to get down to business. Kinlan was lounging in the chair opposite, but he didn’t appear relaxed, more frustrated by my presence; like a tightly wound coil that could spring open at any moment.
I pushed back into the body of my seat, attempting to look at ease.
“I need your help.” Releasing those four words into this environment made me feel like I had just signed my life away in blood.
His jaw started to tick. Not a good sign. “I hate to crush your expectations but do I look like I run a fucking charity?” His expression was the same type I received from Gabriel when he’d had enough of my piss-taking attempts.
“I’m not asking for a handout. I have a business proposition for you.” My voice was much calmer than it had been in my head.
Kinlan’s lips twisted into the shadow of a smile, “A business proposition? One connected to your girlfriend from the vault I presume.”
My brow crunched up, “No, it’s nothing to do with Leonie.”
“I was talking about Gabriel Knight, the guy you have a boner for?” Kinlan replied with a sneer on his face. His insult failed to have the effect he wanted. If I let my temper get the better of me, this meeting was fucked before it even started. I knew he would try and push me so that I’d lose control. That was part of the mafia’s MO .
I carefully schooled my features. “Look, it’s nothing to do with them or that night.” My mention of it must have reminded him of his injury as he shifted in his seat and pressed a hand to his side. This drew my gaze.
“How’s the wound by the way? Does it still tickle?” I asked, playing down his injury. Probably not good to provoke him on purpose but I could be a cocky twat too.
Kinlan shot me a dirty look. “It did more than tickle you cheeky little fucker, but I’ll live.” I must admit, his comment brought a smile to my lips as little was something I had never been called, even at thirteen when I’d been just shy of six feet tall.
“I assume you found her. Your sister?”
A dark look passed over his face and I knew I’d crossed a line.
“She isn’t my sister fucknut. Look, I’m seriously trying not to put a bullet in your head, so I would suggest you stop testing me,” he grunted, a muscle in his jaw started to tick and he pulled his jacket back to reveal he was packing. Oh dear.
Moving his hand back to the desk, Kinlan then rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck from side to side, “You now have five seconds to explain why you’re here before I shoot you. So. Make. It. Good.”
His threat didn’t worry me. I knew from Gabriel that this guy was a mean fucker but he did have some moral code. He wouldn’t harm anyone who wasn’t a threat. At least, I didn’t think he would.
A muscle flexed in his jaw, “Well, spill it.”
I washed a hand down my face, “I’m getting there oh ye of little faith,” I snarked, annoyed by the fact that he was rushing me. He really was a first-class arsehole but I needed him and his army of thugs; the enemy of my enemy and all that shite
Save me from Irish gangsters with a God complex !
Kinlan watched me with a soulless, impersonal stare. “Faith is for pussies. I’m a nihilist.”
Of course, you are, silly me.
I cut to the chase, “Do you know a man named Alexander Harker?”
A silence stretched and I could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to place the name. He then shot me a faintly sinister smile.
“It sounds vaguely familiar. Should I know him?” he questioned, pushing forward, and placing his elbows on the desk. It was one of those that had green leather attached to the surface, not so dissimilar to the one in Jonathan Swift’s study. Amber’s beautiful face swam into my thoughts. Get a grip, Hunter!
I kept the word sociopath to myself and went for, “He’s in your line of work although he may not move in the same circles,” I informed him, not thinking that I would upset him with that comment, but his temper flared further.
“And just what is my line of work, shithead?”
“Whatever it is you and your gang peddle,” I replied wishing I had bigger balls. I should have just said mafia.
“My gang? I’m not in a gang, you ignorant dick . Where are we, high school?”
I must admit, I never allowed anyone to call me names, but I bit my tongue and carried the hell on.
“Look, Harker used to work for one of the gangs—sorry—mob families based here in London. He’s been inside for thelast six years—well, five years and nine months to be exact. He was put away on a kidnapping charge and some other crap they managed to pin on him. He’s free now and I need someone with some weight to have a word with him and get him to back the hell off. I need protection. At least, I need protection for the one he kidnapped.”
“And why in hell would I help you?” Fuck, just the way he said hell would make most men cower.
“He’s a borderline kiddie fiddler. The female he took was only a child at the time. I heard that you don’t condone that type of shit?” I hammed it up for obvious reasons. Gabriel had said that even Gerard had never involved himself with sex trafficking or anything affecting women and kids.
“I despise such people as I am sure you are aware. But why would I help you?”
“Because I’d owe you a debt and I always pay my debts.”
His expression switched to one of being bored again and I knew I was running out of time. Thankfully, after a brief silence, he said, “I’m listening.”
“If you help to warn the fucker, give us your protection, I can help to expand your operations.”
The look he gave me was almost revolted, like I’d just told him his grandmother liked to take it up the arse, “How the fuck can you do that?”
Forget having a stick shoved up his arse, it was more like he had an entire tree up there. Was the guy ever happy? He had a type of smile but it was like something sick had created his joy. Kinlan’s current stare could have melted steel.
“Look, I own a construction company and have some empty warehouses close to the docks near Deptford Wharf. I had intended on selling the land as my application to demolish the warehouses and build a hotel there was declined but…” my voice trailed off.
Kinlan arched an eyebrow, “But?”
“I would sell them to you for half of their value. In payment for your protection.”
He snorted and made a dismissive gesture with one hand, “ Half their value? Surely you should transfer them over to me for free?”
“I may be desperate but I’m still a businessman,” I informed him tartly.
“That may be so but why the hell would I want a bunch of rotting warehouses in the arse end of nowhere anyway?”
I leaned forward and placed my hands on his desk. “Because they are on the waterfront with access to the Thames but with a more clandestine route across the water. It’s where the old shipyards used to be. That section of the Thames isn’t policed as much. That would enable you to move your product or whatever the hell you do with less attention from the coastguards.”
Kinlan sniggered and lowered his hands to place them flat against the surface of his desk, mirroring my stance, “I think you’ve been listening to too many mafioso stories my friend. Product? What product? I’m not a fucking drug dealer.”
Mafia stories indeed. I imagined this guy had a ton of stories to tell; ones where you wouldn’t want to be a character in any of them.
Exhaling, I made another attempt to get him on-side, “Look, I don’t give a shit what you are or what you ship. My point is you could store whatever you want there and there is less chance of it being raided. Once I signed the buildings over, I would walk away and you’d never hear from me again. I wouldn’t have anything to do with what you do; I’d leave you to it. My point is that the area is off the grid, well as much as it can be in London.”
Kinlan drew one of the laptops towards him and opened it. “So, you say you want my help. And you want me to warn this man with a bullet? Have him iced or just a little chat?”
“Have him iced?”
“Yes. That affects the price you understand?” He shot me a brief look before turning away and logging onto his laptop.
I found it amusing that he attempted to appear like a regular businessman and criticised me for listening to too many mafia stories, yet he’d just used the word, iced.
I rolled my shoulders. “No. I don’t want that. I just want him to stay away from me and mine.”
Kinlan surprised me by not asking who I was protecting and instead launched into a flurry of questions about the warehouses I had mentioned .
He typed quickly on the keys and turned the computer so I could confirm he had entered the correct coordinates of where they were located. I answered truthfully, explaining that there were no ramps down to the water but that they could be put in place. I gave him the details of the square footage, condition, and market value. He Google-earthed the buildings on his laptop, and I pointed out the perimeter of ownership. I didn’t lie about building regs which were restricted but all the warehouses were dry and didn’t let any rain in. Perfect for storage and that was about it.
Eventually, one of his men was called into the office and they both started speaking in what I assumed was Gaeilge. I knew Kinlan was of Irish descent, but he had no defined accent. If anything, he had more of an American twang. Gabriel said Kai had trained in the States and so that made sense.
After what felt like forever he pushed to his feet and said, “I’ll think about it.”
“OK?” I said, totally unsure as to where his head was at.
“An associate of mine will be in touch when he’s viewed the land you mentioned. I will investigate your friend for you and decide what, if anything, needs to be done.”
“Thank you.”
“Now piss off.”
“Don’t you need my number or something?” I said as I pushed to my feet.
Kai scratched the scuff on his jaw, his eyes drilling into mine, “No. I have it. I also have your address and that of your parents. I know exactly who you are. I knew who you were ten minutes after you sprinted from the building with Knight and his pretty little girlfriend.”
I felt like punching the wall when he mentioned my parents, “You had me investigated?”
“Of course, you were a witness. I had to make sure you kept your mouth shut. I must say, I was impressed with your underground fighting achievements.”
My brow scrunched, “You’ve seen me fight? ”
“Yes. I was passing so don’t take it as a compliment. You’re a big fucker, maybe you should come and work for me? I could always use more muscle.”
So that’s why I’d occasionally had a feeling I was being followed. Bloody, Gabriel and his shit. Although, if I hadn’t joined Gabe on his mission to rescue Leonie, I would never have met this man. He was apower-hungry tosser and I was under no illusions about how dangerous he was, but I needed him.
“I’m good thanks,” I said, again regretting that I was in such a position. When in need, contact the Mafia; said no one ever.
“Fair enough. So?” Kinlan said, straightening his tie and motioning towards the door.
“So?” I repeated, still trying to digest what we’d agreed.
“As I said, you may go, or loosely translated, get the fuck out.” The guy pissed me off but I respected the direct approach.
Kinlan then pressed a button on the phone on his desk and said, “Hamish, get in here and show this prick out.”
“What? That’s it? Shouldn’t we shake on it or something?”
His nostrils flared, “That’s not how I do business.”
“But you will help me?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“We just spent the last hour going through all this shit and you’re just going to leave me hanging? What’s wrong with you?”
“You really want to open that door?” he chuckled. It wasn’t a pleasant sound but the guy had a point, in respect of what was wrong with him, my guess would be, a lot .
I pushed to my feet and glared down at him. God, he was a cocky twat but he carried a gun and so he could afford to be. “Fine.”
No handshake, nothing and I couldn’t stop my shoulders from sagging. Had I failed ?
He must have seen from my body language and relief kicked in at his parting words. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist sweetheart. You’ll be hearing from me.”
After a brief nod of my head, I moved away. At the door, I turned back to face him.
There was a smile on his face but again, there was little humour in it.
“Welcome to the dark side, Hunter,” Kai Kinlan husked deeply.
My sense of humour got the better of me as I asked, “Can I ask a question?”
He huffed and folded his arms over his chest, his eyebrows inched towards his hairline. “What?”
“Is the kiss of death real? Or is that just another thing made up from the movies? And, how about the carnation thing?”
Kinlan rolled his eyes but I saw the hint of a smile touch his lips as he barked, “Out!” He motioned towards the door with a jab of his thumb.
My spine locked but I managed to leave the room with my head held high and a shit-eating grin on my face.
As I left the building, I realised I had just put Amber and myself in bed with the mafia.
The thought of Kinlan approaching Amber in any way made my blood run cold. I remembered the girl who had shot him that day. She had been one gutsy female. Would he be looking for her or would he let her go? Yes, he was a nasty bastard, but he didn’t come across as the type of arsehole who would hurt a woman, especially not a teenager.
I dashed the thought to one side, forget that shit, it had nothing to do with me. I had my own girl to protect and without that fuckers help; I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that.
As Hamish escorted me downstairs, I glanced into one of the offices as we passed. I decided to keep the vision of the man I saw there tied to a chair from my mind. I had just figuratively shaken hands with the fucking mafia, I sure hoped it was worth it.
Driving away from the compound, I realised that Kai Kinlan was a force of nature and that there was every chance he would fill his father’s shoes and then some. I decided as I steered through the busy London streets that once the shit with Harker was solved, I would cut all ties with the psychopath; the thought of swimming with the fishes boomeranging around my brain.