Chapter 3 Rachel
RACHEL
Aidan O’Donnelly Sr. had a distinct reputation in certain circles—the ones in which I ran.
Some said he was insane. Some said his wickedness was all the worse because he was sane. Some said the life had turned him, and with as many wars as he’d been involved in, I had to think that was the likelier option.
No one was born evil.
I’d met enough scum in my years to know that.
A dash of child abuse here, some neglect there, and over a person’s adolescence, any potential was driven out for good.
It wasn’t the first time I’d met O’Donnelly Sr.—we often crossed paths at fundraisers—but whenever I had the misfortune of coming across him, I always hoped it would be the last.
Especially now, when he was looking straight at me with the gravitas of a king in a throne room, I recognized that we might as well have been in the Palais de Versailles and not a shitty police precinct in East Harlem.
The man had to have a million warrants out for his arrest, yet here he was, calm as you like, and that aura of calm put me on edge.
When he smiled at me from a face that was as handsome now as it had been when he was younger, it was like spiders crawled up and down my spine.
I knew what that smile was—a summons.
Veering away from the front desk, I strode over to O’Donnelly.
He watched me, not in a creepy way, but hawkishly. Taking the measure of me.
Not appreciating being summoned, I wasn’t obvious about it, but I straightened my shoulders and lengthened my spine as I finally came to a halt in front of him.
“Mr. O’Donnelly, what a surprise to see you here.” I raised my arm to check my watch. “And at such a late hour.”
“This is the city that never sleeps, Ms. Laker,” was his simple retort. “Bedtime is for children and those innocent fools who think their country isn’t forged on corruption.”
Well, that got heavy fast.
“You don’t strike me as a man who lets things disturb a good night’s sleep.”
“Maybe once, but not now.” His brow furrowed as he looked up at me.
“Thirty years ago, if you walked in here, you’d have been laughed out of the precinct.
Instead, I’ve been hearing grumbles from the cops ever since your man, Nyx, made a call to you.
” His lips twisted into a smile. “They’re terrified of you. ”
This was a monster who knew how to inspire terror in people. Real terror. True terror.
“They’re terrified of the paperwork I cause,” I corrected stiffly. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
“The paperwork and the potential of losing their job.”
“If ‘my man’ has been beaten during his arrest, I can guarantee they’ll be hauled into an IA inquiry tomorrow morning,” I agreed, my tone saccharine-sweet.
He winked at me as he patted the seat at his side. It was a grim moss-green Formica that likely hadn’t been updated since the seventies. “I’ve read all about you, Rachel Laker. Most formidable. Very impressive.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t tried to approach me as a client,” I retorted coolly, “if everyone speaks so highly of me. Unless, is that what this is? A job interview?”
His smile deepened. “In a sense. Just not for you.”
I arched a brow as I took a seat at his side, staring onto the miserable precinct in this miserable part of the city. Poverty and despair went hand in hand in these parts—I’d know. I’d spent most of my childhood in areas like these.
That whole ‘evil being cultivated’ belief was something I included myself in.
Had I been raised by my mother my whole life, undoubtedly I’d be behind bars now as well, but Axel had come along, so had the Sinners and Rex.
Ironically, they were my saviors even as some of the Sinners’ brethren had been the catalyst for my downfall.
“The job interview isn’t for me…” I mused, nose crinkling when a hooker strode past me, rubbing at her wrists where cuffs had recently been biting into the flesh. She stank of cheap perfume, sweat, and vomit. Great combo. “So I suppose it’s for Nyx?”
“You’d be surprised how gossip spreads.”
“What kind of gossip?”
“About a man seeking the righteous ends of people who don’t deserve their next breath. About a man who’s been castrated by the women in his family, who urged a promise out of him that someone of his leanings can’t avoid forever—”
Anger spiraled inside me. “No one ‘castrated’ Nyx.”
“Why’s he here then?” came the soft taunt. “If he wasn’t castrated, if that promise was freely given, why are we sitting here today? One slither of temptation and he falls.”
“You’re mixing your theology, Mr. O’Donnelly. Shouldn’t the women be the ones proffering temptation and not his salvation? Aren’t they a man’s downfall seeing as he has no free will of his own?” I mocked, because his misogynistic BS stank to high heaven.
“I’m not against playing the role of the serpent from time to time.” His smile drifted. “He’s safe from the law.”
I scoffed, “Of course he is. I’m his attorney.”
“I like a woman with confidence. Shame all my boys are taken or I’d have tried to set you up with one of them.”
Eyes flaring wide, I choked out, “I beg your pardon?”
“This was a test, Rachel Laker,” he said, ignoring my question. “A test Nyx failed. Now, I don’t judge him. If anything, I respect a man with his principles, and I have an offer for him.”
“An offer that hinges on his freedom is no ‘offer’ at all.”
“I’d like to see you in court,” he mused. “Unfortunately, I have a distaste for legal proceedings.
“Liberty can be bought with incompetence and ignorance, Rachel Laker. With such a skilled legal representative on his side, I doubt he’d spend a full night here anyway, but your talents won’t be necessary—”
“Good, because I intend on making sure he gets home to his pregnant partner. Tonight.”
“Very few people interrupt me, Rachel Laker.”
It amused me that he was using my full name, much as I did when I was in these situations.
“That’s because I’m not afraid of you, Mr. O’Donnelly.”
“No?” He quirked a brow at me. “Why aren’t you?”
“I’ve dealt with worse men than you and survived.”
He stared at me, his eyes seeming to slice into me. That quirked brow of his softened, and his mouth tightened. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Rachel Laker.”
Funny how those were the most honest and earnest words he’d uttered since we’d started talking.
“I appreciate that,” I said blandly, turning away from him to stare over the precinct.
“One thing I’ve learned, it’s a woman who pays for the sins of men… not their sons.” His jaw clenched. “Rape is so unimaginative a punishment but clever, so clever. When those men learn the truth, they’ll trigger a war for their woman. One they might not start for their sons.”
“Rape shouldn’t be a catalyst,” I argued.
“It is if you have the right man at your side.”
His intoned words had me tensing. And changing the subject. “Nyx isn’t one of the good guys. He’s inherently flawed, but his guilt eats into him like a cancer.
“If he doesn’t get himself killed first, then his shame will do the job. He’s already rotting away in a jail cell, but it’s of his own making. Locking him up is just cruel.”
“I know how he feels,” O’Donnelly murmured.
“I highly doubt—” I broke off before I could finish the sentence. I thought about what I knew about the man, and I shut my mouth.
It was well known that his wife had been gang-raped by Aryans. Kidnapped and abused simply for being Magdalena O’Donnelly.
I thought about how glad I’d always been that my suffering was private. That I’d never had to bare the gruesome details to the cops. That I’d never had to sit in front of a jury who’d decided that I deserved to be raped because I’d worn a low-cut top.
Pity didn’t fill me.
Respect did.
It took a strong woman to withstand that. To go about society, to face the whispers, to know that everyone in the room was aware you’d survived hell and had come back to tell the tale.
He wasn’t wrong about rape being a catalyst—hadn’t it been for him?
“Cat got your tongue?”
I heard the taunt. I didn’t ignore it. Instead, I dipped my chin. “You’re the reason your wife was kidnapped.”
His cocky expression was knocked askew. “You’re the only person brave enough to tell me that in at least a decade.”
“Telling the truth is a brave thing to do,” I said on purpose. “What’s your deal with Nyx?”
He stared at me. “I have names and I don’t need a conscience or ‘promises’ getting in the way.”
“Names that,” I hesitated, “need deleting?”
“Yes.”
“He can find names of his own.”
“These are important men. Men of consequence.”
“And you can’t easily pay someone to do this for you?” I mocked. “You had to involve someone who’s going to be a father?”
A hiss escaped him at my judgmental tone. “I’m a father myself, Rachel Laker. I know the weight of the burden that’s about to rest on his shoulders. I also know that freedom isn’t as cut and dry as you think.
“You said it yourself—he’s already in a cell. I didn’t have to put him in one to incarcerate him.”
An ache surged to being in my temple.
He was being cagey, and it was starting to piss me off.
“So you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart?”
“Many would say I don’t have a heart.”
Me included.
“I see you agree.”
“I’m sure he can find names himself,” I argued.
“Not and pay off a debt to me.”
“A debt you accrued on your own behalf,” I retorted.
“That’s the best kind of debt.” He smiled at me, but it was wooden, and I knew my frankness had hit home.
Oddly enough, I wasn’t proud of that feat. Kicking an old man where it hurt wasn’t how I got my rocks off.
“What’s the end game, Mr. O’Donnelly?”
“Deletions.”
“So this isn’t for Nyx’s sake?”
“In a sense. Murder is murder. But these men don’t deserve that fate. They deserve a righteous end.”
Mind racing, I asked, “An eye for an eye?”
Slowly, he nodded. “It’s the only way to achieve rightful vengeance.”
And if that wasn’t a fucked-up logic, I didn’t know what was.
“Does it have to be Nyx?”
He studied me a second. “What does that mean?”
“Does he have to be the one in charge of deleting?”
“You want it to be a group effort instead?” he mocked.
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
But I was thinking of Harlow.
Harlow who O’Donnelly hadn’t even mentioned yet.
I just knew he’d been arrested too.
The older man monitored my expression—or the lack thereof. “What are you planning behind those icy eyes, Rachel Laker?”
“Nothing,” I countered. “No plans—”
“Don’t lie to a man who can see through bullshit better than a cowboy.”
“The only time you’ve seen a cow is when you’ve gone to a farm to dispose of… something.”
“You’ve got the wrong animal. Pigs are good for that kind of disposal. Not cows. But I see where you’re going with this. A righteous kill is what I want, Rachel Laker. Nothing less will serve me.”
He clearly didn’t know Harlow’s story.
“You’re the reason Nyx’s arrest has been unorthodox?” I queried, wondering how much power O’Donnelly had in this precinct.
Without conferring with the front desk, I was still blind as to what was happening here.
“The cops were there on my say, they arrested him on an irrelevant charge, and my boys handled the body then arranged for the poor woman to get home.
“That means your man will be home tonight without needing to drop a dime on a lawyer such as yourself. My name can move mountains, Rachel Laker.” He got to his feet. “You should remember that.”
“Is that a threat?”
He turned to face me and did the damnedest thing—he reached down for my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles.
Beneath my fingers, I could feel the slightest of tremors in his digits.
Just the slightest.
“Threats are the only kind of language I know. But I’m speaking to someone who’s fluent in them too.”
“What did they charge him with?”
“Excessive speeding and reckless driving.” He winked at me. “Pleasure doing business with you, Rachel Laker.”
“You could have stopped the rape from happening.” If my tone was bleak, well, how couldn’t it be considering my past?
“Innocent blood gets shed every day,” he said, but for the first time, a sorrowful cast shaded his features. It wasn’t enough. “He’ll never be able to hurt another victim. I take comfort in that.”
That might have comforted him, but what good was that for the poor woman who’d been attacked tonight? Who was probably trying to scour her body to get clean? Who was worried about STDs and pregnancy in a nation that blamed the rape victim and not the rapist for her attack?
“May we never meet again, Aidan O’Donnelly Sr.”
“That’s a promise I can keep. The places where you run aren’t my idea of a good time. That being said, I did hear about that gala of yours tonight. Expect a nice donation from Acuig Corp.”
With that, he strode out of the precinct, leaving me wondering how many loopholes I’d left wide open in that deal I’d just struck with the devil.