Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Brendan
T he fluorescent lights hum overhead as Bryan and I walk the sterile halls of Bon Secours Hospital. The smell of all things sick and antiseptic hangs thick, tunneling into my sinuses until it makes my nose twitch. I keep my eyes forward, focusing on the steady rhythm of our boots echoing against the tile floor.
I hate hospitals.
In the end, when Mum was too sick to be at home, Da used to take us to the cancer hospital every day. We all knew she would never get better or come home, and every visit twisted that knife a little more. Da said that sometimes we had to take the hit for the people we love, to make sure they get what they need.
They say what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger, and look how strong I turned out.
When my twin and I get to where we’re going, we find Kieran propped up in a plastic chair in the hall looking like something the cat dragged in. He’s got his phone in his hand and is doomscrolling without paying much attention.
He gives us a nod as we approach and tucks his phone into the front pocket of his Devils vest.
“How’s the kid?” I step around him and glance into the small room.
Kieran chuckles. “He took one in the shoulder and one in the side. He lost a lot of blood, but his organs seemed to fare pretty well. He’s been in good spirits, though —thanks to some nice meds from a pretty nurse with a braid.”
Bryan smirks. “You obviously didn’t score any. You look like dog shit.”
Kieran scratches his cheek with his middle finger. “Let’s get this over with. I’m knackered and ready to get horizontal.”
I step inside the hospital room and find Petey propped up in bed, a breakfast tray sitting on the swing table over his lap. The kid is pale as a sheet and has a goofy grin plastered crooked on his face as he shoves scrambled eggs into his mouth. “Look who it is! The Quinn twins!”
Bryan meets my gaze and arches a brow. I fight not to chuckle. It’s not the kid’s fault, he’s drugged up.
Petey beams at us before going back to his eggs. “Are you guys hungry?”
I check out his rubbery eggs and bite back my disgust. Cora spoils us—not one of us would deny that—but even if she didn’t, I wouldn’t line up for hospital food. “We’ve eaten. Tag sent us to check on you. How are they treating you?”
He blinks up at us, his glassy gaze as wide as dinner plates. “Mr. Quinn sent you to check on me? Wow. Between that and these eggs and the pretty nurse, this might be the best day of my life.”
“The day you got shot twice and almost died?” I ask.
He shovels in the last bite. “That part was yesterday—not the best day.”
No. I wouldn’t expect so. I’ve never been shot, but Tag, Sean, and Bryan each have, and I’ve been there to witness the aftermath. Not a fan. Zero stars.
When his plate is clean, Petey reaches for the nurse call-button and hesitates. “Can I get you boys anything? My nurse said I could have all the eggs and toast I can eat. I figured Kieran had something to do with that. I’m sure I could score you guys some grub.”
I can’t help but laugh. The kid’s nineteen and in the hospital because he was shot twice, but he’s acting like he’s hosting a fucking party.
Kieran shifts closer to Petey’s bed, a serious expression settling back on his face. “Pete, the brothers came to talk about what went down last night.”
The kid’s smile fades as he sets the call button back on the bed. “Things got hairy outside the Confession Box.”
I move to the end of the bed, so I’m looking straight at him and can read his expression. “What stirred up such a hornet’s nest of trouble?”
He scratches at the rat’s nest his hair has become. “I’m not sure. I mean…things are heating up between Billy and Niall across the river, but that’s no reason to shoot me—is it? Dougie says I’m annoying as shit and he wants to shoot me, but for someone to do it…that’s harsh, don’t you think?”
“Heating up how?” Bryan snaps, getting us back on point.
“The McGuire men are picking sides.”
My brows furrow as I exchange glances with Bryan and Kieran. If loyalties are fraying, that is bad news—very bad.
“Give us an example, Petey,” Kieran presses.
The kid seems to consider that for a moment. “Billy is mad about how Niall ran things during his recovery and about how long it took for him to get back on his feet.”
“Point to Sean.” Bryan grins.
Yeah, too bad our older brother didn’t wipe Gravely off the board completely.
“He’s meeting with small groups of McGuire men and pointing out that with you guys messing with their income streams, something drastic needs to change.”
Gravely is such a fucking menace. If he plans on coming after our family, things won’t end well for him. Sean took him down a few notches. Now it’s time to put the wounded dog out of its misery.
“Change how?” Bryan asks. “Is he talking drugs? Trafficking? Guns?”
Petey shrugs, his eyes wide, and his expression blank. “My buddy, Dougie, is working on getting more, but when he heard I got shot, he went dark. I don’t expect to hear from him for a few days at least.”
I run a hand over the scruff of stubble darkening my jaw. Whatever Gravely has brewing won’t simply be about business—not anymore—he’ll be gunning for us.
Still, it doesn’t add up.
“What are we missing?” Bryan meets my gaze.
“Aye, that’s what I’m wondering.”
Petey fidgets. “What do you mean? That’s all I’ve got…well, until Dougie checks in.”
Kieran lets out an exasperated sigh before running a hand through his russet hair. “You did good, Petey—no question—but this intel isn’t enough to justify a killing spree on our side of the river.”
“Could they think you know more than what you’ve told us?” Bryan asks.
The kid looks small under those crisp white sheets. “I don’t know. I keep my head down and work to stay invisible. I don’t even know how I ended up shot.”
Silence falls heavily among us while we all consider what is coming for us. But having that conversation in front of the kid will just put him in more danger. “Okay, Pete, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to step outside and chat while you get some rest. We’ll check with the nurses and find out when we can bust you outta here. Then we’ll take you to one of our houses to keep you safe until we figure out what the fuck is going on.”
He frowns. “Don’t I need to be here? I don’t think I can be on my own.”
“No worries. Our doc will come and take care of the medical stuff, and we’ll make sure someone is with you to help with meals and things.”
Petey swallows and checks in with Kieran. “Will you be there?”
Kieran chuckles. “I’m off to get some sleep and will check in with you and the boys later. Don’t worry, the twins will take good care of you until then. You did good, Pete. All is well.”
I offer the kid a reassuring smile and dip my chin. “Get some rest, Pete. We’ll make the arrangements and get you somewhere safe.”
I reread my order instructions and double check that my cart has everything I want. When I confirm everything looks right, I hit send. It’s a small thing, but hopefully it will earn a smile on a sad day. The plastic chair creaks in protest as I lean back against the cool wall outside Petey’s room. I slide my phone into the pocket of my leather jacket and then cross my arms over my chest.
Bryan is staring at me, his gaze narrowed. “What’s that look about?”
“What look?”
“The one that says you’re either going soft on me or your bowels are twisting, and you need to take a shit.”
Seriously? “Wrong on both counts. Leave the reading of body language to Tag. You suck at it.”
He grunts. “Uh-huh. Then tell me whatever you did just now has nothing to do with you wanting to fuck that girl.”
“What girl?”
“The one you tackled last night,” he smirks, a cocky grin stretching across his face. “The one you swore to Finn you were not into.”
I meet my twin’s knowing gaze and shrug. “Aye, well, Finn is a pain in the ass. I wasn’t about to give him anything that could be used against me later—especially at breakfast with Laine and Piper sitting right there.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Used against you how?”
I draw a deep breath. I’ll regret getting into this, but Bryan is my other half and we don’t keep secrets. “You know that buzz you get when guns are drawn, and everything is happening like rapid-fire all around you?”
Bryan’s scowl softens. “Aye. I love that rush.”
“Well, that’s what it was like. One second the night air was filled with chaos and bullets and screaming and then I was tackling Nora. I laid over her, shielding her from the danger, all her soft curves fitting perfectly against all my hard angles. Then, our eyes met, and I swear something inside me shifted.”
“That was your cock, fucknut. Adrenaline will do that to you.”
I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t my cock—well, it was, but it was more than that. Even with the world exploding around us, it felt like she was supposed to be in my arms. Our bodies fit together perfectly, and I looked down at her and I swear she glowed like a fucking angel.”
“An angel?” Bryan arches a dark brow at me, pegging me with a look. “Are you sure you didn’t crack your head on the concrete during the tuck and roll?”
I let out a long breath. “Forget it. I thought you, of all people, might understand, but forget I said anything.”
The two of us sit in tense silence for a few long minutes before Bryan sits forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “Be careful, brother. Developing a case of the feels makes you think you’re invincible in the moment, but it’s fleeting. When it’s ripped from your fucking grasp, you’re left with a pain that never heals. The damage loss leaves in its wake is worse than any knife or bullet.”
I hate the anguished break in his words. His pain is my pain—to some degree—but I’ve never known how to help him get past losing his first and only love. “But does the threat of loss mean you shut yourself off from the possibility of ever falling for someone again?”
“Sounds about right.”
“What about Tag and Sean? They’re happy.”
“For now—but it’s early days.”
I hate thinking about Bryan being so defeated. He’s a fighter. In the ring, he would never even consider throwing in the towel, but life doesn’t always imitate art. “I know you suffered. What happened to Yasmine was heart-wrenching, but that doesn’t mean you should be out of the game for life.”
He pegs me with a look so hollow it makes my chest ache. “She was my life. And no, you have no fucking idea how I suffer.”
Fair enough.
I’ve never fallen in love. I’ve spent my time enjoying the smorgasbord of what life offers. But who’s talking about love, anyway? “I was just saying Nora caught my attention, that’s all.”
Something about her pulls at me—her kind eyes, the way she held herself after that chaos outside the pub. It’s nothing to get worked up over and it’s certainly nothing serious enough to leave my twin looking like his heart is being mulched in a blender on high.
Which he does. Fuck, I hate when he looks like that.
I rise out of my chair and stretch out my shoulders before settling against the wall. “Let’s focus on what matters. What do you think Billy Gravely is up to?”
Bryan shifts in his seat, his expression becoming the hardened mask we’ve all grown accustomed to as we dive back into business. “With the pressure we’ve been putting on the McGuire business, I’d bet Gravely and Niall are at each other’s throats. Niall may not be as strategic as Tag or Sean, but he’s not an idiot like Declan and their father was either. Gravely will want blood. Hopefully, Niall has a little more self-preservation than that.”
I run a hand through my hair as frustration gnaws at me. Since Sean killed Mattie back in April, everything’s been unstable on the south side of the river. Not that it wasn’t before…
Mad Mattie McGuire was a narcissistic lunatic with a god complex.
Gravely isn’t much better.
“Gravely must see an opportunity,” Bryan says thoughtfully. “He’s ruthless and entitled. He thinks he and Mattie were the dream team in the south and he’ll be eager to prove that. If he thinks he can woo the McGuire men to his camp, he won’t miss the opportunity to try.”
I glance toward Petey’s door, wondering what kind of threat the kid posed that could’ve escalated Gravely into the shooting.
The air grows heavy with unspoken thoughts as we stew in the silence.
A nurse with a thick chestnut braid steps out from behind the nurse’s station down the hallway and approaches us with a clipboard in her hands. The closer she gets, the slower her steps become until she’s hugging the clipboard and staring up at us with wide eyes. “Good afternoon, sirs.”
I offer her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Mr. Quinn is fine.”
She swallows. “The…uh, the doctor was reluctant to sign off on discharging Peter so soon after surgery, but your associate seemed insistent.”
I don’t know what Kieran told them, but I agree. “If Petey was the target of violence, the sooner we move him somewhere secure, the safer everyone will be—including the staff and patients of this hospital.”
She nods. “I have discharge instructions, but Peter will need someone to stay with him for the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours. With his injuries, he’ll have mobility challenges and will need care. The painkillers he’s being prescribed will make him a little loopy, and falling is a distinct possibility.”
I resist the urge to tell her that this isn’t our first shooting. I doubt that will help. The truth is, we are well aware of what the next days will be like for the kid.
“He’s not to shower for forty-eight hours or lift anything heavy for the next three weeks until his stitches are fully healed.”
I flash her a grin. “Understood. We’ll take good care of him.”
Bryan stands and we follow her into Petey’s room. Despite his chipper mood from earlier, with his eyes closed, the kid looks pale as death and skinny as a corpse.
The soft whoosh of the door opening stirs him from his nap and when he takes the three of us coming in, I clap my hands. “Good news, Petey. Your nurse says we can spring you from this place as long as we take care of you, and you take it easy for a few weeks.”
His smile falters. “Weeks? How will I earn money if I’m not out there? I’ve got bills to pay and need to keep up my share.”
I hold up my hands to slow his roll. “We’ve got you, buddy. Tell Kieran what you need, and we’ll make sure you’re covered. Consider this an all-expenses paid Quinn vacation.”
Petey’s gaze widens. “Serious? I can rest and you’ll still pay my rent and stuff?”
“Aye, for the next three weeks, consider yourself a paid couch potato.”
He looks between Bryan and me as if gauging how serious we are before finally letting out a sigh. “Wow, thanks. Thanks a lot.”
I gather the bag of Petey’s things while the nurse helps him with his socks and shoes. Bryan grabs a wheelchair from the hall, and a few minutes later, the kid’s discharge papers are signed. Once he’s got his jacket on over his hospital gown, we’re wheeling him down the hall.
I’m glad to be getting out of here, but even with Petey free to leave, until we know why this happened and who was behind it, the kid is no better off.
None of us are.