Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sean
T he back of the delivery van is quiet as we approach the NYX Hotel. Quinns don’t breach the territorial lines and go to the south of Dublin. It’s a tenet we’ve lived by for over twenty years.
Tonight, we make an exception.
It’s becoming more and more obvious that Mad Mattie doesn’t respect the terms of the truce between our families, so why should we?
“You okay, boss?” Kieran’s curious gaze meets mine as he slides his lighter into the pocket of his MC cut. “You look weird.”
“Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
He chuckles. “Touché.”
I check the tranquilizing pistol and make sure I’m ready in case this goes sideways. “Just going over things in my head.”
“Fucking Bratva,” Brendan scoffs. “Mad Mattie’s living up to his name these days.”
“I’m thinking he’s got a fucking brain tumor or something,” Bryan adds. “He’s fucked in the head, for sure.”
No argument. How could a father do that to his child? I try not to think about the heart-wrenching sight of Piper’s world shattering, but being sucked into her glassy eyes nearly did me in.
I shouldn’t be so drawn in by her disillusionment, but there’s something about her... It’s like I have a pathological compulsion to protect her, to keep the evils of her life at bay until she gets back on her feet.
Not that her being with us is much better—the Quinns are no saints—but we’re a fuck-ton better than the McGuires.
Usually, being out with the boys clears my head and gives me singular focus. Tonight, all I can think about is that video of those Russians taking the boots to Piper in the street and the fact that I can’t avenge her.
At least not yet.
I’ll save that torture until the time is right.
“This is a straight snatch and grab, boys. Kieran’s contact will let us in the side door and give us a door card for the elevator and the suite. We go up, we tranq them, we leave the same way we came.”
Brendan chuckles. “These tranq guns look crazy real. We should play a game of Quinn Tranq Tag one night when we’re drinking. Last man standing wins.”
“I’m game.” Bryan grins.
I meet Kieran’s gaze and roll my eyes. “My brothers are eejits.”
He holds up his palms. “What you five do on your own time is your business. I’m just thinking that it would hurt. These tranq darts are wicked sharp.”
The truck’s brakes are wet and let off a whine as the truck rolls to a stop. Gallagher sticks his head into the opening of the window from the cab and grins at us. “Last stop, the NYX Hotel. Everyone out.”
Five on two are good odds and I’m not a bit worried that we’ll be out-manned. I watched the video of the two Russians attacking Piper a dozen times and while they were sent here as representatives, they are the big man’s cousin and his bodyguard, not true Bratva killers.
The area around the side door is dark, the light over the door conveniently turned off. Kieran sticks his mug in front of the glass sidelight of the door and the metallic clunk of a push bar opens.
As we shuffle inside, Kieran meets our contact with a clasped hand and then gestures down the hall for him to get us moving. “Where are we headed, sham?”
He strikes off down the carpeted corridor with the five of us in tow. “The top floor has eight extensive suites, and the one the McGuires rented is 604. You’ll need this key card to get the elevator to move, and it’ll open the door for you as well.”
The guy is wearing a NYX polo shirt and, by the tool belt hanging around his hips, I’d guess he is a maintenance man of some sort.
“You’ll be quiet and careful, won’t you?” He turns a worried look on us as he calls the elevator.
Sure, five tattooed guys with long hair and wearing leather look threatening, but what did he expect? We’re a fucking motorcycle club run by a mafia family.
It would be even worse for him if he saw the weapons we’re carrying.
Still, he’s Kieran’s contact and we try never to burn our eyes and ears on the south side, so I field his question and draw an X over my heart. “We’ll be as quiet as Mary’s little lamb, I swear.”
Brendan chuckles, but a look from me quells his amusement. “We appreciate the help, mate, and will do our best to ensure nothing blows back on you.”
The doors of the elevator slide open with a mechanical whoosh, and we get in. Kieran does the honors of pressing the buttons and we begin the climb to the top floor.
“For your troubles.” I hand the guy five hundred bucks folded into a neat wad. “All you need to do is hold the elevator for us while we secure the Russians, so we can get gone fast.”
His eyes blow wide. “Me? I thought all I had to do was get you in.”
I hold the bills when he reaches for them, assuring that I have his attention. “You’re almost done, kid. Don’t freak out on us now.”
“He’s not going to freak out.” Kieran faces the guy and squeezes his shoulders. “They won’t be conscious, so they won’t see your face. I give you my word. This is going to be fine.”
Kieran isn’t big, but he’s wiry and lethal. I’m not sure if the reassurance makes the kid less afraid of the Russians or more afraid of crossing us.
Whichever it is, it seems to work.
He swallows and gives me a nod. “I’m good. I’ll be here, holding the elevator.”
“Good man.” Kieran pats his arm, and I release his payment.
When the elevator door opens, we rush out. The five of us beat feet up the hall, moving quick and quiet. Outside the suite, Gallagher and I pull our tranq guns, Brenny and Bryan roll their shoulders ready to muscle us in, and Kieran stands beside the door with the key card and a stupid grin on his face.
We haven’t had this much fun in a while.
With a nod from each of us that we’re ready, Kieran does the honors. The green light signals that we’re a go. Brenny and Bryan ease through the door without making a sound and we follow.
A bulky Russian wearing boxers is in the sitting room on the phone. He’s ordering from room service and facing out the window. He’s the one who kicked Piper in the ribs when she was down in the street.
The other isn’t in view.
Brendan and Bryan press back against the foyer walls and Gallagher raises his tranq gun. It’s as easy as that.
Until the fucker falls and takes the desk chair and the lamp to the floor with him.
The clamor brings the other guy rushing out of one of the bedrooms, gun raised. He’s fat and slow compared to Brenny and Bryan, and they’re on him in a flash.
My two little brothers tackle the guy and take his gun out of the equation. I move in fast and when they’re clear, I pump two shots into him—chest and thigh.
“Two?” Gallagher takes the cable tie handcuffs out of his bag and tosses me over a pair. “Doc Kelvin said one would do it.”
I hand the cuffs to Bryan and point as Brenny rolls the fat guy over. “Our guy is twice the size of yours. Twice the size, twice the tranq darts.”
Gallagher chuckles. “Fair enough.”
With both Russians out cold and with hands bound, I leave my crew to get them on their feet. While they do that, I take a look around.
They’re slobs, but that’s not helpful. The bedrooms have their personal stuff, their clothes, phones, guns, and some porn magazines.
I grab the phones but leave the rest where I found it.
In the sitting room, I lift the desk chair and set it back on its wheels. Then I grab a laptop, a folder with a rundown on the McGuire organization, and a stapled wad of what looks like a legal agreement.
“What the actual fuck?” I scan the contract and skim through the dirty details. “That motherfucking prick.”
Gallagher comes over with the bag and starts sliding our takeaways inside. “What is it?”
I fold the contract and slip it into my back pocket. “More incentive to kill Mattie McGuire. Come on, boys. Let’s get north before anyone knows we were here.”
Tag is waiting for us behind the bar at the MC clubhouse when we arrive. He’s pouring himself a dram and when he holds up the bottle, Brendan, Bryan, and I go over to join him. He looks past us to Kieran and Gallagher. “Take our guests into the boardroom, gentlemen.”
I point to a couple of the other lads. “Give them a hand. And remember, for the moment, they’re to be treated well.”
“And after that?” Micky asks.
“We’ll see how things go.” I want to tell them to sharpen the sheers because I’m going to be making these two assholes into eunuchs, but that little nugget is private and can stay that way.
If I say it, my brothers will wonder why I’m so invested and there’s no way I can answer that question without Tag getting mad. If he even suspects I care about Piper, he’ll order her away from me.
If I play it cool, it might buy me more time.
“So, how’d things go?”
“Like clockwork.” I accept the tumbler and throw the amber liquid back in one gulp. When I set the empty glass down, I tap the rim for a refill.
“Any problems?” Tag tips the bottle and sets me up.
“Not a one.” Brendan takes a drink, and I realize the three of them are staring at me.
“What?”
“You have that homicidal gleam you get when you are envisioning dismembering someone,” Bryan says.
I focus on my second glass and take a normal, calm drink. “Well, if I do, it’s justified.”
“How so?” Tag’s question sounds casual enough, but he knows me and he’s reading my reaction.
It’s his fucking superpower, and it’s annoying as hell.
“This stays in the vault, got it?” I stare down the twins, to make it clear I’m speaking to them. “Not a word to anyone.”
Brendan shrugs. “Sure. Whatever.”
“Cool. Got it.” Bryan climbs onto one of the bar stools. “The secret is in the vault.”
I pull the folded contract from my back pocket and hand it to Tag. “Mattie actually signed away Piper to sweeten the gun deal. He offered her virginity to them during negotiations and then, if the fat one likes her, he can take her home as a parting gift.”
That earns a round of cursing and what the fucks.
Bryan scowls. “I told you. He’s fucked in the head.”
Tag frowns. “I don’t even know how to process this.”
“It can’t be legal, right?” Brendan looks between us. “I know arranged marriages can be legal, but Piper is nineteen. She’s an adult.”
“I can’t see how it could be legal.” Tag hands it to Bryan. “Go make a copy of this, and we’ll take it home to Laine. She’ll know better than we do.”
That’s a good idea.
A lot of loud Russian cursing booms from the back room, and Tag finishes his drink. “All right, boys. Looks like the meeting is in session. Let’s go find out what kind of deal Mattie McGuire made with the Bratva, how we can break it, and then what we can do to send them home happy so they stay the fuck out of our city.”
I finish my drink and fight the urge to bring the bottle. As much as I’d like to take the edge off my homicidal gleam, as Bryan called it, if liquid sedation lets my guard down, I’ll likely put two plugs in their skulls.
And that will piss Tag off.