20. Killian
20
KILLIAN
This was a mistake.
I walked out of the hotel and into the bustling streets of downtown New Orleans, my shadow following me. Not that I cared. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him, and if he were smart, he’d keep his fucking distance.
I had thought only Silas had his head too far up his ass to see danger even if it stabbed him in the face, but now that Maverick had joined in, what the fuck could I say to that?
Fucking hell.
What was in the water in New Orleans?
We needed to get home. Get back to Chicago and set up a meeting with the Cadorna family.
The Cadorna family was a prominent crime family in Chicago. Not as prominent or big as the Heartless Saints had been, but important enough that Hayes had cut a deal with them to do his transport overseas from out west.
Now that rumors of the club’s demise were quickly spreading, the head of the family was trying to latch his slimy, greasy paws onto us, hoping for the same deal—for us to provide the goods and protection.
I wasn’t too keen on working with any fuckers Hayes had associated with, but that didn’t mean we shouldn’t be heading back to Chicago.
Instead of planning for our swift return, my brothers were… playing in the pool with the little firecracker.
I tried to shake off the foreboding feeling of something heavy in my chest.
I knew I was scowling when most people on the streets gave me a wide berth. That was good. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any fuckers—innocent or not.
Green-blue eyes came unbidden to my mind.
Fuck, but I could still taste her.
Made me wonder if the innocent, shy look she wore on her face was only an act.
How bold of the little firecracker to kiss me first. I shook my head. I still haven’t told my brothers about that. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but hell, something about sharing that moment with anyone else, especially to those fuckers, almost felt… sacrilegious.
I found a bar as I turned the corner and, without thinking, went inside. It was too early for a drink—barely one in the afternoon—but this felt like a drinking kind of day.
The bar was nearly empty when I went inside. Only one bartender manned the place, and in the corner, a man who seemed to be a regular sat enjoying a glass of what looked like scotch.
I sat on the opposite side of the bar, and the bartender approached me. He looked to be in his fifties. Tan, leathered skin seemed to weigh down dark brown eyes that might have seen a lot of shit in the world. I could barely see his lips through the dark gray-and-black beard covering his face’s lower half.
“What are you having?”
I pointed to the lone patron. “I’ll have what he’s having.”
The bartender nodded and walked away without a word.
I kept my eyes on him as he made the drink. In my line of business, it pays to be careful. The fucking last thing I wanted as my legacy was to be poisoned to death.
He placed the glass in front of me. I took it and swirled the gold liquid around, watching as it caught the dim lighting of the bar.
My trip to the east side of the state had yielded nothing new.
There were some men who had escaped the massacre of the club.
And the fucker, Cline, was the one trying to gather the men, both current and former members of the club. We didn’t know what he was planning, but the fact that we knew he was alive should give us an edge.
If only we could figure out why the fucker wanted Mila back at his side so badly that he’d sent men after her.
Could Cline be afflicted with the same thing Silas had?
An obsession. I shook my head at the thought and downed my drink. I made a sign with my hand for another glass when I caught the bartender’s eye. I didn’t plan on getting drunk. Two glasses would hardly do me in.
The chair beside me slid out just as the bartender placed my drink down. I didn’t react, though I was beginning to wonder when that fucker would make himself known after tailing me for the last two days.
Unluckily for him, he picked a day I didn’t feel like entertaining.
“Tell me something, Killian,” Special Agent Matthew Jones said. I didn’t bother with a reply. “What would the three heads of the Tiernan crime syndicate be doing in New Orleans?”
“Tiernan crime syndicate? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Matty-boy. My brothers and I are respected, tax-paying businessmen. We’re here on vacation. And the way you’re following me is getting old, don’t you think? I’d say you’re in love with us, but this is starting to feel like harassment to me. Does your boss know you’re here?”
His face turned red from the blatant disrespect, as he sputtered some bullshit. I shook my head, cutting him off. “Do you think I really want to hear what you have to say?”
I went back to my drink.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m simply here on vacation, too.”
I smirked. Agent Jones had been a pain in our ass since the moment he’d realized there were even bigger monsters in Las Vegas. But I gotta admire the man’s tenacity.
He was like a fucking dog with a bone, gripping on so tightly, we might just need to break his teeth to get him to let go.
He had been on our uncle’s ass at first, thinking about bringing down his organization until he realized we were there, running the drug trade.
Our uncle might have run the casinos, both above board and the underground variety, while also providing loans to the more enthusiastic players, but my brothers and I were something else entirely.
We’d made a name for ourselves in Las Vegas, and we would do the same in Chicago.
“After all these years, you’re still so closed-lipped about everything. Don’t you think we can be friends?” he asked, shooting me a slimy smile.
If I didn’t loathe the idea of going through the process of assaulting a federal agent, I might have punched the fucker in the face to wipe away that shit smile.
“I have enough friends.”
He shook his head and tsked. “Is Maverick really worth going to jail for? Sure, he’s your brother, but they don’t call him the Savage for no reason.” Actually, people called us the Savages of Las Vegas. “You really trust him not to throw you under the bus to save his ass? It’s only a matter of time before all his activities catch up to him. If you make a deal with me, I guarantee you’ll walk away a free man.”
I shook my head, wondering what he thought he would accomplish here. I would die before I betrayed my brothers.
When I didn’t say anything, he stood. “You know how to get in contact with me. And whatever you’re hoping to accomplish here in New Orleans, perhaps you should rethink it. I have men watching the three of you and that hotel you’re staying in.”
He saluted me and walked away, whistling on the way out.
I watched him.
When the bartender came back to refill my drink, I shook my head and slapped down two one-hundred-dollar bills.
I didn’t see Jones as a threat, but his presence here just confirmed what I knew.
We needed to head home. I didn’t even give a fuck that they wanted to take Mila with them.