Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Brendan
A fter speaking with Nora, I call Frenchie and let him know I’ve spoken with my girl and if trouble arises, he and Drake are good to break cover and intervene. “Take care of her, boys. I mean it. She’s out of her depths and in the crosshairs of too many dangerous men.”
“Aye, we’ve got her, boss. Don’t worry.”
If only that were possible. Fucking hell, I’d be at Legend and guard her myself if I didn’t think it would put her in more danger.
I should take a page out of Tag and Sean’s book and kidnap her and force her to come home with me. Technically, I suppose I already did that.
The possessive rage I felt when that cocksucker was running her down in the alley outside the gym still runs hot in my blood. And it makes me homicidal that I never even bothered to ID the guy.
Dammit, on the list of things I’d like a mulligan for, that’s at the top.
Then, when he somehow dragged his busted-up pathetic self out of that alley and disappeared, we would still have something to go on.
A knuckle rap on my window makes me curse and practically jump out of my skin. Bryan frowns at me and draws on his cigarette. “Are you done jacking off? Can we go in and get to work?”
I pull my keys from the ignition and get moving. “You said you needed a minute to have a smoke.”
“And you’ve been moping in there for almost ten. Get your head in the fucking game. We’ve got jackals in the henhouse and we need to ferret them out.”
I laugh. “You’ve got a few too many animals in that metaphor, brother, but I hear you. And I assure you, my ten minutes of phone calls and moping were all about the fucking jackals in our henhouse.”
We slip the bouncer on the door of Dance Dublin a fifty and a Quinn business card and he lets us in ahead of the line of late arrivals snaking up the sidewalk and around the corner.
Inside, with the flashing lights and the cloudy dimness, I can barely see where I’m fuckin’ going. After knocking into a table, Bryan and I aggressively encourage a couple of drunk assholes to give up the seats at the end of the bar.
With a good view of the dance floor—now that my eyes have adjusted—we sit our asses down and wave the bartender over. The guy is wearing a black hat and thick guyliner and looks like he should be on a burlesque stage instead of behind the bar. “What’s your poison, mates?”
“Two whiskey neats and an in-person with whoever is in charge.”
“I can get you the drinks, but I don’t have time to find Dallas. I’m the only one on the bar tonight and I’m getting slammed.”
Bryan slides a few bills and our card across the bar.
The guy sets up two tumblers, pours, and then picks up the stack. It’s obvious and rather hilarious the moment it registers that he’s just blown off the Quinn twins. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I, uh…I’ll be right back.”
When the burlesque bartender bolts across the floor, Bryan sips at his drink. “That never gets old.”
I used to think so. Except now, I want to be more than a mafia boss. I want to be a man that a woman like Nora can be proud to stand beside.
Burlesque Bartender is back in a flash, and he’s brought a scruffy guy wearing jeans and a silk vest over his T-shirt. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”
As Bryan explains about the predators stealing women in our territory, I scan the club, searching for anyone who might meet the description of the perpetrators. There are a lot of watering holes in the city and there is no way we can cover them all, but Tag wants us to raise the alarm and make it known that we’re aware of what’s happening.
If these twats have a lick of self-preservation, they’ll think twice about being the front men for Gravely’s revenge plan.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to read Finn’s text.
“Anything yet?”
“Nope. Just spreading the word.”
“Where have you been?”
“Dublin Dance, Clover Cavern, Living Room, Panti Bar, and Grand Social. Haven’t done this much bar hopping in a fucking decade.”
Couples come and go past the bar, but what I’m looking for are young girls in twos and threes with no male escort out for a night of fun. They will be the prime targets—the ones coming in without dates.
Tag says he and Aiden are calling it a night. Sean and Keefer, too.
Does that mean we’re off the clock?
Seems so.
Good deal. See you back at home.
When Bryan is finished laying it out to the manager, I stand and finish my drink in two long swallows. “If you see anything that concerns you, step in and if you don’t have the balls to step in, then call us and we’ll send the Devils over to take care of things for you. But this ends. Women will not be prey in our fucking city. Agreed?”
The scruffy guy in the fancy pants vest nods vigorously. “Yes, sir. Agreed.”
Nora
I stall out in the hallway outside the kitchen, the teasing aroma of coffee urging me forward. Today is a big day, and I don’t know if I want to stand tall and spill it to my father or wait until after Kate and I sign the lease on our new flat this afternoon.
I know how he’ll react.
I don’t have the energy for that argument right now.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, deciding to back away. I turn, about to make a full retreat, when my father’s voice cuts through the quiet.
“Why are you lurking, Nora?”
And this is why I’ll never be a spy. Drawing a deep breath, I step into the kitchen and force a casual smile. “Just thinking.”
He narrows his gaze. “About what?”
Avoiding that conversation, I reach to the sink to grab my mug and pour myself a cup of coffee. After stirring in a dose of hazelnut creamer, I grab a bagel and slot it into the toaster.
“How are things with the task force?” I ask, steering the conversation away from my life plans. “What did you do about Laura sleeping with Niall McGuire?”
He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms tight over his chest. “That’s none of your concern. You shouldn’t even know about it.”
I turn my back to him when my bagel pops, and take my time with the buttering. “I saw the pictures. It wasn’t hard to figure out she crossed a line.”
“And how I handle that is my business, not yours.”
His clipped reply and curt tone are nothing new. What’s new is that it bothers me. For the past decade I merely internalized it as me upsetting him or overstepping. Now I see it isn’t my issue, it’s his.
Well, tough titties. If I’m showing him I’m an adult, I can’t shy away from every conversation when he shuts me down. I bite into my bagel and lean against the counter. “There’s talk at work that women are getting drugged in the clubs and scooped up for sex trafficking.”
He shoots me a scathing glare. “I warned you of the dangers. Why do you think I’ve tried to keep you out of that world?”
“They’re saying it’s the McGuires working behind the scenes in Quinn territory to frame them. Knowing Niall had access to your task force, I was thinking he might use Laura to set them up.”
His jaw tightens. “The Quinns don’t need anyone to frame them. They are ruthless and vile. If bad things are happening in their territory, it’s them.”
“But they don’t deal in sex trafficking—the McGuires do.”
He places his palms down on the table and scowls up at me. “And how would you know what their dealings are?”
‘Because Brendan told me’ isn’t an appropriate answer here, so I go with one that’s safer. “Everyone knows they follow a code of conduct that their father set up—the Quinn Laws.”
“The only laws that matter are those enforced by the authorities. Members of organized crime are vigilantes and killers who think laws don’t apply to them. Don’t romanticize them because you’ve been fooled by good PR.”
“I haven’t been fooled by anything. I was just saying?—”
“Stop!” My father jolts to his feet so fast, his chair tips back and crashes against the wall. “I don’t know where your sudden interest in mafia business is coming from, but it stops now. When people ‘talk’ at your nightclub, you know nothing and you say nothing. Do you hear me?”
“I’m sure everyone on the block can hear you.”
“Then let it sink in and for once in your goddamn life, do as you’re told.”
Once in my life? I’ve been a damned Stepford daughter for almost fifteen years and that blind obedience has made me small and sad.
I shove my bagel into my mouth, hoping it might muffle what’s brewing inside me and keep it from bursting free.
“Now, off you go.”
Seriously? “No, Da. You don’t get to dismiss me—not this time. I thought we might have a mature conversation about what I heard, but it seems not only do you think I’m a child, but also an idiot.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve never said that.”
“Sure you have. Every time you berate me and belittle my contributions to any conversation, that’s exactly what you’re saying.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“And you’re being an autocratic asshole.”
He clenches both fists and storms toward me. “How dare you judge me? You have no idea the lengths I go to make your world a safer place.”
“I do, and that’s the problem. You think I don’t see what you’re working on. You think I’m so oblivious that I don’t understand the dangers. Da, you think you’ve wrapped me in a bubble of blissful ignorance my whole life, but you’ve entrenched my life in organized crime since Mum died.”
“Leave your mother out of this.”
I point to the open files on the table—the photos and police reports. “You’ve dragged me all over Europe, uprooting me from my homes and schools, to follow the next big crime wave. I never complained because I understand what you do and how important it is. I know how losing Mum drives you to protect me.”
“I told you to leave your mother out of this!”
My heart pounds against my ribs as anger surges through me like wildfire. “There’s no leaving her out of it. Everything about our life is about her. She’s the reason you bury yourself in work, the reason you treat me like you do, and she’s the reason I am who I am. And if you don’t see that, you’re the one who’s oblivious.”