8. Sean
EIGHT
sean
I felt off after leaving her again .
Agitated was a better way to describe.
She had never really been the crying type, even at her lowest.
Seeing tears in her eyes put me on edge a little, reminding me of when we first met.
“We got about three stops to make on the way to Harlem,” Tadhg said out of nowhere. “You’ve been away for a while and today’s a good day to…”
I was fucking bored.
“Where are the twins?”
“Uh… probably sleep, knowing the both of them. Or…”
He hesitated and I cut my eyes at him.
“Or what? Y’all hiding shit from me?”
Tadhg sighed.
“It’s my job to keep your hands clean. This isn’t Philly, you can’t—”
“Find out where they are,” I cut in, flipping my phone over to check Blair’s location, like I hadn’t just left her. “Lorcan, call your brother for me.”
The truck’s GPS had been disabled but I could track her by phone and the pendant she wore around her neck.
“And Tadhg your job is to get me up to speed with the happenings of New York. Not to keep my hands clean or play advisor unless I ask you to, got it?”
He answered without pause. “Understood.”
“You can tell me where the twins are after I talk to Liam.”
Lorcan handed me his phone through the seats and I pressed it to my ear.
“You know why I’m calling, right?”
“I was told not to defy an order from her. She wanted the GPS gone and I did as I was asked.”
He’d also broken my one rule but I respected how he played it and decided to let him rock.
Following orders and protecting her life were his only tasks, even if it meant undermining me.
“Share locations with your brother and make sure my wife is returned to me in one piece, Liam.”
“Understood.”
I handed the phone back and addressed Tadhg.
“Did you learn where Eef and Von are?”
He cleared his throat.
“Doing rounds a day early. They’ve been dealing with a few locations inventory not matching up to our cut of revenue.”
I hummed.
“Is my father privy?”
“He knows of the situation, yes.”
“Reschedule with Ashton and take me along the twins route today.”
He sighed and I had a feeling I’d be hearing it often.
“Take us into, Brooklyn,” he instructed Lorcan. “Three shops reported drops in revenue this year, but didn’t have the inventory to prove otherwise during a secret audit last month. The owners aren’t aware we know and the twins have orders to get answers.”
In Philly, our job was simple.
Oversee operations at the dock. Take in merchandise, mostly guns and random goods—break down and send them to their destination, while keeping a small portion to flood Philadelphia county with.
It was the same thing every day.
My brothers and I invested in other shit, like dispensaries and real estate. We even started a scholarship fund and offered off campus housing.
New York’s network was a different ball game, more intricate.
This was our hub—we could account for at least seventy-five percent of the guns being brought into and sold on the streets, illegal and legal.
The gun shops were one of our biggest money makers.
“When did it start?”
He chuckled and I tossed a side eyed glance his way.
“Sorry. You just remind me of your da and mine mixed in one. It started around the time our shipment tracking system was tampered with. They both believe these problems connect.”
I leaned my head back and let the pieces come together a little in my mind.
“What do you think could happen if a bunch of tiny problems began at once?”
“Chaos,” he answered slowly, twisting his wedding band again.
I gave him time to think.
“More than that,” he went on, not long after. “A bunch of tiny cracks moving simultaneously can bring down an entire organization much faster, if done right.”
He understood and wasn’t afraid to take his time responding.
My da had left tiny messes for me to clean up, knowing together they smelled like the makings of a territory war. We rolled to a stop in front of The Heights Rifle and Pistol Range in Brooklyn Heights.
“Keep it running,” I told Lorcan as we hopped out and entered the shop.
Aoife was up on the counter, legs crossed while filing her nails.
“Lock the door,” she said, hopping to her feet and tipping her head toward the door in front of me. “We’ve been waiting on you.”
I stepped into the back room and found Siobhan sitting legs crossed in front of Joe, the shop’s owner. He was bound to a chair by his legs and arms.
“She can sit like that for hours,” I said, earning his widened gaze. “But, I don’t have the patience to wait around for answers, Joe.”
I stepped behind his chair and turned it to face me.
“I’ve been home for less than twenty-four hours and it’s starting to feel like I’m not welcomed. You tryna have me killed, Joe? Is that why my shit missing?”
“That’s not… I swear, I—”
“Where’s my merchandise?” I asked, hand out as Tadhg placed a pistol into the palm of it.
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t have anything to do with this.”
I tsked.
“Then explain to me why your revenue has dropped but your armory is damn near empty.”
He tugged at his restraints and I sighed, cutting a glance in Tadhg’s direction.
“Do I have a change of clothes in the car?”
He nodded and I pushed the barrel of my gun into Joe’s knee, stopping his frantic movements.
“I’m in a real bad fucking mood, Joe. Tell me where my shit is and I’ll let you live. Stay quiet and you’ll die that way. Lie to me and who knows what I might cook up as punishment. You have three seconds, starting now.”
But before he could even fix his lips to speak, I pulled the trigger and laughed as he howled in agony.
“Oh he’s losing it,” Aoife whispered.
“We saw Blair before this,” Tadhg murmured back, like I couldn’t fucking hear them.
I had thought it would make me feel better, putting a tiny copper bullet into flesh. There was a brief moment of satisfaction but nothing now.
“Uh, cousin. Maybe you should let us handle this and—”
When our gazes met, Siobhan pressed her lips together.
“Or not,” she said instead. “Do your thing.”
I focused my attention on Joe’s wound, digging the tip of my gun into it.
“Apologies for my suddenness. Thought it would make me feel better but instead I feel like finishing the job. Where’s my merchandise, Joe?”
“I… I don’t know where it is. But… But in exchange for keeping the cash difference, I gave a portion of the guns to Meechie.”
“Meechie?” we all said at once. “Who the fuck is Meechie?”
“Jinx!” Eef and Von both yelled afterward, earning a glare from me and a chuckle from Tadhg.
“He said his dad worked for yours,” Joe blurted as my gaze shifted back to his. “I asked to meet and recognized him. He’s always with your Dad, at least any time he came around here.”
Landell.
“And so, my dad’s driver offered you cash for the merchandise. Do I have that right?”
He nodded and I pulled my gun from his wound and dropped it into the zip lock bag Tadhg held open for me.
“What does this sound like to you?” I asked, giving my cousin another test.
“Sounds like—”
I held my hand up to stop Aoife from speaking.
“It sounds like someone is looking to sew discord within your network. But also, I think we might need to put out a red alert.”
A red alert meant to be more diligent in keeping your head on a swivel. Someone was out to harm us.
I flicked Tadhg’s forehead and he reared back with a frown.
“Good job.”
His frown deepened after my compliment.
“I’m older than you! Don’t treat me like I’m five.”
“Don’t treat me like I’m five,” I mocked as I came to terms with two things.
I missed my brothers.
And I hated being the heir.
What a boring fucking life.