Chapter 7 #2
I exhaled and ignored him as I lay back down on the bench.
Wiping at the sweat on my forehead, I pointed at the bar, and Gallagher grasped it to lift it off into my hands.
I spread my legs, getting into position before I took the bar again.
I ignored the throbbing pain in my knee.
I would make a deal to get some painkillers because I was going to need them.
Fucking Hanson. I’d dealt with enough pain in my life that I was used to the pulsing irritation.
My father had always taught me to keep injuries on the down-low and not to give our enemies what they wanted—weakness.
Reyes stayed there as I did another twelve reps, singing some kind of tune under his breath that sounded like it came from a kid’s movie. He rocked on his feet. “You know, I was thinking.”
I breathed heavily through my nose. It was a shame I couldn’t kill him here and now. There was no integrity in that kind of murder. “I’m not interested,” I ground out as I finished my twelfth rep and passed the bar to Gallagher again.
“Our boyfriends get along. At least, they did when we were in Pleasant Beach. Manny liked Conall.” Reyes grinned at me. “I liked your pet, too. He’s a lot nicer than you.”
I grunted. “You underestimate him.”
“No, I don’t. I know he’s clever. You wouldn’t have put him in charge if you didn’t trust him.
” He smirked and ran a hand through his dark hair, throwing his head back like he was in a shampoo ad.
“You’re many things, Killough, but you don’t mess around with your business.
That doesn’t mean he’s not nicer than you. ”
“Your point?” I drawled, unimpressed. I didn’t like any man talking about my pet as though he knew him. I was the only one who got to understand Conall. Everyone else would meet death if they tried.
“Maybe we should set up a play date.”
Anger streaked across my chest, but I kept my cool by crossing my arms. “You’re not touching my pet.”
Reyes threw his head back and laughed. “Joder, Killough. I’m not talking about sexually. I’m satisfied with my Manny.”
He knew exactly what he was doing. Whether it was genuine or to piss me off, he wasn’t going to get an explosive reaction out of me.
I shrugged. “My pet isn’t touched by anyone but me.
He’s mine.” I stood and walked toward him, my injured knee almost giving out on me.
If Reyes noticed the slight limp from the pain, he didn’t say anything.
His smirk was enough to irritate me. “And we’re not friends.
We’re not allies. We’re nothing. I hate you, and you hate me. ”
“Why is that?” He asked simply. “Why do the Killough Company and the Reyes Cartel hate each other? I don’t think I ever knew the answer.”
I chuckled, but there wasn’t anything pleasant about it. “Your uncle killed my brother.”
Reyes stared at me for what felt like a long time. “And your men killed my cousin. She was a good person. Loved her family. She was a sister. A daughter. Don’t you think we’re even?”
I grinned unpleasantly. “We’ll never be even, Reyes. When we’re out of here, I’ll kill you with my bare hands. I can promise you that.”
He stepped back and opened his arms, smiling. “I tried. The bloodshed continues because you don’t have the balls to make another ally.”
“Not with your family. Never with you.” This was personal.
He’d never know how much. Something in me died along with Eoin.
My brother had been the good one out of the two of us, and I’d learned a lot from him.
Could have learned more, too, if Jesús Montero hadn’t ended his life and robbed my nephews of their father.
Taffart approached us, eyeing Reyes with contempt as he passed me a piece of paper. I ignored Reyes as I opened the note, taking in the name that’d been written down. My judge.
I handed the paper back to Taffart. “Get this to Daire. He knows what he needs to do.”
Taffart didn’t incline his head. It was too dangerous for him to do it in public. Though, I could see how much he struggled not to. “Yes, sir.” His gaze slid to Reyes. “Is this bastard giving you trouble?”
“Reyes? No, he’s not a threat.” I smirked toward Reyes. “He’s a small prick in a big world. Nothing I can’t handle.”
My words didn’t seem to have any effect on him. He beamed at Taffart and twiddled his fingers in a wave as the guard took the paper and left again, his boots crunching over the slushy leftover snow. “I’m assuming that’s your judge or jury he has there. Smart. I’m doing the same.”
I ignored him as I lay back down on the bench seat. I waved my hand at Gallagher. “Another two sets.”
Gallagher moved back into position.
Reyes tsked at me like he was my goddamned mother. With a wink, he strode away.
I watched him until he was gone, then sat up again before Gallagher could grab the bar.
I gestured one of the men over, and Doherty—who happened to be Ronan’s cousin—stalked to me.
He looked like Ronan, with the same blond hair and a similar handsome face, but he was older and had more brute force.
He was Gallagher’s friend, and he went down for the same crime as Gallagher.
Ronan’s familial relationship with Doherty was the only real reason Ronan got his job.
“Keep an eye on Reyes. I want to know what he’s up to at all times. Am I clear?”
Doherty glanced in the direction Reyes had gone and sneered. “Yes, sir.”
He left and I returned to my reps.
After I finished my sets, I wiped the sweat off my forehead and face with a towel Gallagher had found somewhere.
I left my men in the yard when I decided to head for the showers.
Usually, we had to wait for a certain time, but Taffart and other guards made it possible for me to use the facilities when I wanted.
There were positives with this jail being in my territory.
The guards and warden knew who they had to treat with respect. Well, all of them except Hanson.
But I had plans for him. I wasn’t oblivious.
I knew Hanson would retaliate, and I even expected it to happen sooner rather than later.
While most knew the law of where we were and who was available for a hit and who wasn’t, some also thought they were invincible.
Or fear had them acting irrationally. Their belief that they could take on a mob boss like me would result in death.
While taking men with me was the smarter option, I was ready for what Hanson threw at me. The sooner it happened, the sooner I could make a point to the guard.
I walked through the hallways of the jail, the sounds of yelling and laughter filling the thick walls we were confined in.
Banging joined with the voices, and I passed a cell where two prisoners were spit roasting another.
The third moaned in a way that told me he wasn’t opposed to the attention.
I snorted. Seeing that kind of thing wasn’t new in here.
Sometimes it was forced, but most often the cons liked to get it when they could, even if they didn’t swing that way under normal circumstances.
I had no interest in joining in on any fun.
I had my pet at home waiting for me. He was the only person I wanted to satisfy my needs.
I’d had more than a few guys offer themselves to me, though, ready to be my bitch, but I’d turned them away with little interest. Conall would never find out about them, either.
His jealousy didn’t come out often because he knew what he had, but it was a force to be reckoned with.
I turned a corner, gritting my teeth as a wave of agony swept through me from my knee.
I was striding down another larger hallway when something hit me from behind.
I stumbled forward, my sore knee giving out under me again, and crashed onto the floor.
Cursing, I spun around in time to see another inmate jump on top of me with a shiv—made of steel and wrapped in masking tape—clutched in his hands.
Ah. There we go. Hanson’s cronies in action. He worked fast.
I moved just in time as the sharp end came down toward me, narrowly missing my cheek.
Slamming my fist into the con’s gut caused him to grunt, and I raised my good leg to knee him in the thigh.
He was heavier than me, and a hell of a lot bigger, too, so my hits did nothing.
He pressed more of his weight into me, holding me down.
This time when the shiv came toward me, I could barely move and the steel went straight into my upper chest.
The cry that escaped my mouth was involuntary, and I elbowed the bastard in the nose with the opposite arm, sending him flying backward.
The shiv was still in my chest, and I yanked it out, hissing in anguish as the injury spurted blood.
I jumped on my attacker, jamming the weapon into his eye.
He screamed, and I wrenched it out only to jab it in again.
I did the same thing repetitively until he stopped moving altogether, the breath leaving his chest permanently.
I stood shakily and turned, pausing to see two other men standing in the hallway, their own shivs clutched in their hands. They were coming to finish the job.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I glanced between them and pointed the bloody steel in my hand at the dead body. “The people he loves are going to regret what he did here. Will yours?”
They looked at each other, then back to me, hesitating before taking a step forward. Fuck. My chest and knee throbbed in agony, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength to take on two men. I raised my fists and firmed my jaw. If I was going to die, it’d be fighting.
The sounds of footsteps behind them had them turning, and I glanced up to see Reyes stepping out from a doorway, arms crossed.
“Hi, boys. How about we make this fight a little fairer? Two on two. Or . . . .” Reyes glanced in the direction he’d come from. “You want to join us, little mouse? I know you’re following me. Your boss is in trouble.” Then, he looked back at my attackers. “Three on two.”
Another set of footsteps, and then Doherty appeared, glaring fiercely at Reyes as he stepped in beside him.
The men dropped their shivs and spun, attempting to run past Reyes and Doherty, but Doherty caught one of them by the arm.
“Who ordered ye to do this?” Doherty growled out, Irish accent thick, even though he’d come to the US over twelve years ago.
The man whined in the back of his throat and gave me a pitiful stare. “Hanson. He told us if we didn’t, he’d make our lives hell.”
The growl that vibrated from Doherty was almost inhuman as he shoved the man, who ran for his life.
As soon as the threats were gone, Doherty ate the distance between us with long strides, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
He touched my uninjured arm. “Sir, we need to get ye to the infirmary for antibiotics and stitches and shite. Now.”
I nodded and raised my gaze to Reyes. “I still hate you, Reyes, but you have my gratitude for appearing at the right time.”
Reyes shrugged. “I think we could be powerful together, Killough.”
“No,” I simply said, letting Doherty lead me in the opposite direction.