CHAPTER TWO
JACK
THE JEEP SWAYS as I cross the large steel bars that are laid at the entrance to the farmhouse. Rolling down the window, my lungs burn from the cold wind that whips its way inside the vehicle. The air pricks my skin and wakes me up a bit. How many hours had it been since I slept? Thirty-six? I had no idea. I had honestly lost count. I drive up to the red barriers that stop me from going any further. Knocking off the ignition, I reach into the back of the jeep and search for my coat. My hand skims across cold leather; I must have left my jacket in the club. Pulling the keys out, I get out reluctantly. The smell of steel and cut grass circles me as I stuff my hands into my jeans pockets and bend so I can get under the red barrier. The old farmhouse is derelict; the windows are boarded up. More grass grows on the roof than in the small patch of dirt that would be considered the front lawn.
Walking along the side of the house, I make my way to a large shed that must have housed a hundred cattle at one time. It’s empty. The livestock is outside on the green patches of grass in the distance—my breath dances in front of me as I spin around at the purr of an approaching vehicle.
The job I am doing today has nothing to do with my own work; this is for my father. I stay within the clubs, running them, and maintaining order. Other parts of our operations are run by one of my uncles; they all have their roles to play. But this job today is the start of my trials. I have to prove my worth before my father passes me the crown. A white jeep pulls up behind mine. I can’t see the driver, but I know who it is.
Finn, my uncle, gets out, and I curse my fucking father. Finn is nice. He never says a bad word about anyone and is known as the peacekeeper. I wanted to work with my Uncle Shane or even my Uncle Darragh. They all had their hands in the jar that my father held the lid over, ready to close it when he saw fit.
Finn waves at me, his eyes crinkle at the corners. He opens the back door and pulls out a heavy gray jacket that he slings across his body. At least he had the common sense to bring a jacket. But I couldn’t see Finn any other way, only sensible and prepared.
“Finn.” I greet him with a jerk of my chin as he gets closer.
“It’s a cold one.” He pulls a pair of gloves out of his pocket and stuffs his hands inside them.
“Mighty cold. So, what’s the job?” I hope he knows more than I do, but already the fact my father sent Finn, I’m assuming this is a simple pick up. He wouldn’t send Finn to harm anyone. My uncle would release them or try to talk the rest of us out of hurting anyone.
He looks so much like my Uncle Darragh. They are twins, but they are both at the opposite ends of the spectrum. Darragh’s a mad bastard, always was, as far as the stories go, that I’ve heard countless times about him.
Finn is always wrapped in a never-ending circle of pain. They say it’s from losing his wife. I don’t understand his pain. I honestly think if he got laid more, he’d be better off. Of course, I’m wise enough not to voice this; no matter what I think, I have to give my respect to my elders.
“I have no idea what he sent us here for.” Finn glances around the farmyard while zipping up his coat.
I pull my hands out of my jeans, and the material burns my skin. Blowing into them does little to fight off the biting cold.
Finn shrugs snugly in his jacket, and I follow him into the shed. He leans over each small wall and checks out the stalls before moving to the next.
“So, have you spoken to Cian?”
I move to the opposite side of the shed and start looking into the stalls to speed up the process. I am freezing my balls off here. “No.” I keep it short, but I’m also very aware of my tone.
Finn isn’t moving anymore, and I tuck my fingers under my armpits to keep them warm before turning to him.
“He’s …” I’m trying to think of the right words. I want to say a complete jackass, but once again, I know I need to be careful with my words.
“I know he isn’t easy.”
I can’t stop the sneer that tugs at my lips. “He’s a red-headed little fucker.” Fuck it. I’ve said it now.
Finn tries to hide a grin by looking over the next wall. “Don’t let Shane hear you say that.”
“I’m not stupid,” I mumble.
“I know. That’s why you will lead us.” Finn’s confidence in me makes me uncomfortable. I’ve known all my life that I would lead as the head of our family. We control all the North-East of Ireland. Every drug trade, every brothel, every delivery of arms, we controlled. My dad and his brothers had built it up from nothing, and the empire that sat before me had hotels, clubs, restaurants, and an endless portfolio of property.I should be ecstatic to be inheriting everything, but it isn’t that simple. Nothing good ever is.
“Found it.” Finn’s words drag me out of my thoughts, and I bounce across the shed towards him. He steps into the last stall. Of course, it’s at the end, the furthest distance away from the jeeps. I pull back the green tarp, and I stare at the white blocks that are stacked nearly five feet high.
“That’s a lot of coke. Are we expected to load this into the Jeeps?”
“No. We just stare at it and then leave it here.” Finn’s sarcasm is unexpected, and when he glances at me, I can see he’s ready to apologize. I don’t want his apology.
I grab two blocks of white powder and turn to Finn. He still wears a grin—the air ripples before warm liquid splatters across my face. Finn hits the ground, and I’m standing frozen as I blink several times. The gurgling at my feet has me dropping the white blocks, and I join Finn on the ground.
He’s trying to breathe, but he reminds me of a fish out of water, gasping for air. Blood pours from his neck. His hands grip the wound, but blood oozes out far too quickly. I’m waiting for more bullets to rain down on us, but the air is still. The shooter has ceased or has left. I want to find him and make him pay for spilling O’Reagan blood. Already I’m fueled with thoughts of revenge.
Finn’s blue eyes are fading, and there is a wild panic in them that I’ve seen before, in dying animals and people.
“You’re not dying today.” I push a hand down over the wound while getting out my phone.
My father doesn’t answer, and I curse him before I ring Shane.
“Finn’s been shot.” I want to add, ‘and it’s bad.’
“I’m on the way.” Shane hangs up and doesn’t ask where we are. They would all know since this was part of the trials. I rub my face into my shoulder to try to get rid of the blood that still coats my face.
My hand turns red, and Finn’s skin pales even further. All I can think of is that he can’t die on my watch. This wasn’t part of the trials. The blood that runs from him is warm; this isn’t a trick or a test. Someone just shot my uncle. Maybe he wasn’t the target. Maybe I was. I raise my head slightly but can’t see much over the wall.
“Shane is on his way,” I speak to Finn, and his eyes flutter closed.
“Stay awake, Finn.”
His eyes open, but he isn’t with me at this moment. He’s somewhere else.
“Don’t you fucking stop fighting,” I warn and press my hand down heavier on his neck. All I can do is talk shit to him, to keep him awake. I’m telling him anything I can think of. I’m ten again.
“I met your dad once. My grandfather.”
I swear it looks like his eyes widen.
“He said he just wanted to meet me, get to know me. He looks like you all.” I listen for the purr of a vehicle that I don’t hear.
Where are you, Shane?
“ He said I was part of An Chlann.”
Finn gargles as he tries to speak.
“Shut the fuck up, Finn.” Panic tears through me. I don’t want to hear his dying words. I won’t be the one to watch the light go out in his eyes. A car tears into the yard.
“See, everything is going to be fine. Shane’s here.”
Hope doesn’t blossom in Finn’s eyes.
A car door shuts.
“The last stall,” I shout. Once again, I’m tempted to say how bad it is, but I don’t. “The shot came from the west. The shooter could still be here.”
“Is it bad?” Shane’s voice is closer.
I want to growl and tell him to hurry up.
“It’s a neck shot.”
Shane curses, and he appears. He stares at his brother on the ground.
“Finn.” He kneels down, and his eyes roam across Finn’s face and neck.
Finn’s still alert, and I don’t know how. You can’t kill a bad thing ; that’s what my father always said. Only Finn isn’t a bad person. He was the only good in all of us.
“We lift him on the count of three.”
I’m gripping his legs, and Shane takes his shoulders. I hate as we rise how blood puddles on the ground. We leave a trail through the shed and all the way to the car.
Once he’s loaded into the back of Shane’s car, I’m ready to climb in.
“Stay here. Darragh will be arriving to help you clean up.”
“What about Finn?” I can’t see him now because Shane has laid him flat in the backseat.
Shane pulls the door closed and reverses like the Gardaí are chasing him. I don’t move from the spot for a moment until my phone starts to ring.
“Shane arrived. He’s taking Finn to the hospital.”
“Darragh and Cian are on their way,” My father says. I didn’t want to have to look at Cian, but right now wasn’t the time to start mouthing off. I climb into the Jeep, leaving bloodied handprints everywhere.
Any brother would ask how his brother is after he’s been shot, but not my father.
“Did you get a look at the shooter?” His line of questioning is so typical of him. Find the threat and eliminate it. The rest is collateral damage. I wonder if it were me flapping around like a fucking fish on the ground, he would still react the same.
“No,” I answer.
“Did you look around?”
I grit my teeth and stare down at my hands. “No, Shane just left.”
“The moment Darragh and Cian arrive, scout the area. Find something, Jack.”
“I will.”
I glance in the rear-view mirror as Darragh’s BMW pulls up. The red-headed fucker is so tall in the front that he’s hunched over.
“Darragh is here.”
“Okay, ring me if you find anything.” My father’s voice is so formal.
I’m ready to hang up when he pauses, making me pause.
“Son, be careful.”
Dread tightens around the base of my spine; my father never said anything like that before.I want to question him, but he hangs up. Darragh’s at my window lighting a cigarette
I get out, and he moves back.
His eyes dance to my hands, and I see real fear in Darragh’s eyes.
“He’s gone to the hospital with Shane.”
Cian steps around Darragh. He’s nearly seven-foot-tall and towers over us all. He wears his normal snarl as he places a huge hand on Darragh’s shoulder.
“He’s in good hands.”
I scratch the back of my neck and stop when wet liquid touches the sensitive skin.
“What can you tell us?” Cian’s wearing a gray jacket with the collar standing up like some fucking golfer. He’s a right prick.
His words irritate me. “Nothing.” I start to walk before I punch him in the throat. Instead of focusing on him, I draw all my attention to Darragh, who chain smokes.
“One single shot was fired from the west. So I’m going to scout the area.”
“Where was he shot?”
“The neck.” I jerk my chin toward the last stall.
Darragh curses as he glances down at the trail of blood that leads to the last stall.
“I’ll scout the area with Jack.” Cian offers up, and I’m already walking away, hoping he’ll pick up on my subtle way of saying fuck off. If he had been shot and was gargling on the ground, I think I would have stood on his neck.
“So, you saw nothing?”
I clench my jaw. “No.”
A high bank rises, and I start to climb. Cian is right behind me. Once I reach the top, I look for tracks, something that will tell me where the shooter was. I keep walking and look up. I’m close to the shed, but he would have had to have been further down to take the shot. Cian pulls out a gun and moves in front of me. I don’t stop him. If he wants to be a shield, by all means, be a fucking shield.
“You think he’s still here?” He asks.
How was he so tall? Shane was over six feet, but his mother, Una, was five feet. He got her red hair.
“If he is, he would have shot us by now.” The logical part of my brain tells me, but I’m still fine with Cian going first.
He stops at a spot, and I walk around him. The grass here has been flattened. I lie in the exact same spot and can see the last stall where Finn and I had stood. He could have shot either of us. He chose to shoot Finn. My fingers trace the grass, searching for anything, but there is nothing left. The area is cold. “He’s gone.”
My phone rings in my pocket, and I stand up and pull it out.
“It’s really bad.” Shane’s words have me lowering myself to the ground as I wait for the final blow, as I wait for him to tell me that Finn is dead.