Chapter 20 Ronan
Ronan
Irubbed my jaw. Dec had granite fists, but we'd spent our entire lives sparring, so being punched in the face was nothing new.
He saw me smirking and glared threateningly. Part of me wanted to stir the pot some more, but I decided not to. I planned to make my Pixie girl mine, which would be easier if my brothers stayed out of the way.
Conal liked her too, but the stupid fuck had Maeve, and unless he buried her in an unmarked grave in the forest, I didn't like his chances of cutting her loose. The silly bitch had psycho ex written all over her in sky-high neon letters.
Maeve had glassed some girl in the face last year just for looking at Conal, so who knew what she'd do if she thought he wanted to get into Verity's pants.
"Fuck off," Declan snarled. "I have shit to clean up."
"The pigs can deal with Bren," I pointed out, although his noxious corpse probably give them indigestion.
"It's not Bren's body I'm concerned about. It's the remaining O'Rourkes. Pa's heard some unsubstantiated rumors Liam has made a deal with the Caruso cartel."
Great. Fun times lay ahead. I cracked my knuckles.
"Can't wait."
"Liam's gonna keep sending people after us," Conal remarked.
Declan nodded. "Yeah. We may need to cut off the head of the snake. If he's dead, the family will turn on each other. He's the one running the show right now."
"Hasn't his wife just had a baby?"
"I believe so, but the word is she's not happy." This revelation didn't surprise me. Liam was a violent misogynist who thought women belonged in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant. He also didn't believe in birth control, hence why Magda had popped out five kids in five years.
An image of my Pixie, barefoot and pregnant, pinged into my head. God, she'd look good with my baby in her belly. We'd make beautiful babies together. Her olive skin and my gray eyes would be a winning combo. Our children would win the genetic lottery for sure.
Conal's eyes narrowed in my direction. "Why are you grinning like a loon?"
"No reason." I shook the thought away before my mental musings gave me a hard-on.
Conal would know exactly who I was thinking about if he spotted that.
"So am I taking out Liam?" A flutter of excitement shot through my belly.
I fucking hated Liam O'Rourke, and now he'd hurt my Pixie the fucker was a dead man walking.
"Not yet. I'm going to ask Milo to gather some intel for me. Thea owes me many favors, so I'm calling some of them in."
"Does she know what happened today?" Conal looked concerned. Probably because he'd been the one responsible for taking Pixie off the estate. My jaw clenched in anger about the danger he'd inadvertently placed her in. He and I would have words about that later. Strong words.
"Not yet. I plan to call her later."
"Speaking of her phone…" Conal seemed mad about something unrelated to the crash, which wasn't like him. Of the two of us, he typically liked to think before acting and nobody had ever accused him of being clinically insane.
Declan swallowed the dregs of his drink and poured another. "Go on."
"Some asshole has been bombarding her with vile messages. I called the number and an Italian fuckhead answered. I strongly suspect it's the guy we found her with in the bar. The one Ronan beat up."
I slammed my fist down on Declan's desk, making his glass tumbler jump. Whiskey sloshed all over a stack of documents. My brother glared but said nothing.
"Get me a location for him and I'll fix the problem. Pretty sure he'll find it hard to text without thumbs." I had a pair of bolt cutters that were perfect for such a task.
"I agree something needs to be done, but right now, the O'Rourkes are our biggest problem." Declan turned to Conal. "Can you sort Verity a new phone with a new number? That should put a stop to the messages."
"On it already. I spoke to Ash the minute I found out she'd been receiving these bullshit messages." He ground his teeth. "I'm annoyed she didn't tell us, though."
If Dec hadn't sent me away on some stupid business trip right after I'd kissed her, my Pixie would have confided in me.
"That's your fault," I groused, throwing in a vicious glare for good measure.
He and Conal exchanged glances and then looked at me.
"How do you draw that conclusion?" Conal’s brow wrinkled in confusion.
"Never mind," I huffed. I didn't have time to explain their many shortcomings. Doc Brewster had left, and I wanted to check how the patient was doing. "I have shit to do." I stalked out before Declan found something else for me to take care of.