Chapter 16
Kingston and Cillian, naturally, understood why I’d been brought back to Boston instead of continuing on to New York City as planned.
I’d almost been fucking killed, and despite all the nights I’d experienced true brutality in those “fight for your life” clubs in the city, my own mortality finally surfaced in my arrogant mind.
I’d always considered myself invincible.
Chalk it up to my name and heritage, or even what I did for a living.
I’d taken others out in the name of family and duty, but I’d never once considered that I could be the one to die.
Not until that bullet pierced my flesh and finally stopped me in my tracks.
A fucking nine millimeter piece of metal had nearly done what organization after organization of various mafia men had never been able to do. And despite knowing I could die in that moment, my survival hadn’t even been front and center in my mind. It had been Aurora.
My fucking distraction... My Bellezza... My eternal damnation...
“Fucking hell,” I cursed.
I could still taste her on my tongue and feel her clamping down on my cock. After we’d showered together, I’d fucked her against the shower wall, then on my bed, before allowing her to go back to sleep.
Well, maybe she’d been fucked unconscious. Semantics.
I smirked, especially knowing I would be joining her again soon.
The reason for my delay in doing so came rushing back, and any grin was wiped off my face.
My fucking uncles were on their way, and I knew their plane had already touched down.
It would just be a matter of time before they made it here from Logan International.
I scrubbed a hand down my face as I began to pace.
While I loved my extended family from aunts, uncles, and even cousins, these meetings with Cillian and Kingston always made me feel some sort of way.
I knew Ronan Brannington had been a tough fucker on them, much like he had been on me, but they banded together and were already running the organization before I was even out of elementary school.
No matter what I did, I always seemed to let them down in one way or another.
Maybe my methods were too violent... Maybe they were too blatant.
.. Or maybe they still considered me a kid.
I knew it was the latter, and no matter how old I got, the feeling of disappointment from them never seemed to go away.
“I’m way too fucking sober for their shit today,” I muttered under my breath before moving to the wine fridge in my kitchen. I never kept wine there, but it kept the various bottles of liquor cold.
Pulling out a bottle of Grey Goose, I was tempted to take it straight to the head, but I remembered Kingston’s concern about my drinking.
It’d been a few years back after I’d found out the truth about my father’s life and subsequent death, and one that was at the hands of an aunt I absolutely adored.
I hadn’t wanted to take it out on Kingston’s wife, Ekaterina, so I’d gone to the club and got shit faced.
Conor had luckily driven, but not without argument from me.
I’d been protesting the fact that he wouldn’t let me behind the wheel, and I still wasn’t even sure what had happened.
All I knew was that I was pulling at his arms in one moment, then waking up soon after when I was pulled from the passenger seat of the car.
My interference had caused Conor to run off the road and nearly into a tree.
He’d managed to swerve at the last moment, narrowly missing what would’ve been instantaneous death for me, but I hadn’t been spared.
And neither had my Porsche. The damn thing flipped over onto its top, and Liam was able to get me out of the car.
I was nowhere around when the police got there.
After Conor had also been pulled from the vehicle, he’d stayed there and filed the accident report.
He’d been sober, and the roads were slippery from the all-day rain we’d had, so other than an insurance company declaring my favorite sports car a total loss, we’d all escaped unscathed.
Or so I’d thought. Kingston and Cillian had gotten wind of it, and I’d been subjected to their lectures about responsibility.
Yes, I understood I wasn’t a random Bostonian, but third in command of the Brannington Empire.
The weapons alone on me would’ve landed my ass in jail, and I’d still be there doing hard time.
“On second thought,” I said aloud to myself before putting the vodka back into the wine fridge, then heading to my full-size one to grab a Guinness. “This will have to suffice.”
I’d just gotten the damn cap off when I heard the knock on my door. I waved off Liam and opened the door myself, stepping aside to let my uncles in. Once Kingston and Cillian were inside, I closed the door, but not before glancing out into the hallway.
“Paranoid much?” Cillian asked me.
“You’re supposed to be the one doing the damage,” Kingston added as he pointed at my bandaged arm.
I growled. “Fuck you, both. I was ambushed.”
“We know,” Kingston said before pointing at the bottle in my hand.
“Want one?” I asked the two men.
Kingston nodded, but Cillian shook me off.
I knew my uncle had once had a drug and alcohol problem, and it was likely the reason my other uncle was so hard on me.
I didn’t have an addiction, but trying to convince him of that was a losing battle, and not one worth waging.
Since the youngest uncle didn’t want a beer, I grabbed him a bottled water instead.
Cillian took it from my hand, then sighed. “Are you okay though, Z?”
I went to flop down onto my couch, but was immediately reminded that I was not healed at all.
I swallowed my grimace and nodded slowly.
The pain radiated, sending searing blasts of heat down my right arm.
It would figure something as simple as sitting down would nearly make me double over in pain, but not fucking Aurora against the wall and bed.
“I’m not sure which expression I like the least,” Kingston said before adding, “Whatever the latter is, clear it from your mind. We have business to discuss.”
“Of course,” I said before tipping my beer back and taking a large swig.
Scenes like this were commonplace for us.
Even the day I’d been introduced to the two of them, they’d interrupted my playtime and had used those same words about business.
As a nine-year-old kid, I had no idea what they’d meant by them, but I’d been a fast learner.
Evidently, Princeton had been near genius level himself, even if he made dumb decisions.
“Book smarts are good, boy, but street smarts are more important. Pull your head out of your ass, and learn them,” Ronan had told me more than once. And each time, he’d used different methods of torture and punishment to drive home his point.
“What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger,” I said, raising my beer in a toast that went unreturned.
That was also something Ronan had tried to teach me.
I scowled at the memories, then chugged the rest of the bottle before slapping it onto the table nearest to me.
“It was Barganella. I’m going to kill the bastard. ”
“It was his team,” Kingston confirmed. “He wants the girl.”
Don’t we all.
I had no idea where that thought had come from, but I was glad I’d managed to keep it to myself. “Have you spoken to Bocharov?”
“We’ve been in touch with their Pakhan, and they still want the girl for their eldest grandson.
We’re close to getting what it is we want in order to make that trade, so I think it’ll only be a matter of time before the terms are fully executed.
Once they are, the girl will be out of your hair, and you can return to whatever macho man brooding you tend to do when alone. ”
“Ha ha ha,” I laughed sarcastically. “She has been a cramp in my lifestyle.”
“Not to mention the reason your ornery ass almost met his maker,” Kingston chimed in after he took a few swigs of his beer. “This will all be over soon.”
“I sure as fuck hope so,” I said, while something foreign and unpleasant rose up inside of me like bile. The very thought was like a dull blade twisting inside of me. It was also a lie, and one I kept to myself.
“The girls are on their way over, and we’ll leave right after,” Cillian said.
“There have to be consequences and repercussions for Barganella’s actions. We’ll see them through personally,” Kingston added, and I arched a brow.
“Wow! You’re actually going to dirty those now-clean hands of yours. I thought you delegated tasks like that to others now,” I responded.
He leveled me with a glare. “He dared to attack my nephew, so someone will die for that mistake,” he vowed. He then looked at Cillian before turning toward me and grinning. “And, I sometimes miss the thrill of the kill. Humor an old man and go get dressed.”