Chapter 53
Chapter Fifty-Three
TALLY
B lack’s suffocating presence is as intentional as the staged scene he’s set. And while I’d like to wrap my hands around his throat and kill him, then Sean, I act my way out of the humiliation.
“Why so much drama?”
He looks way too satisfied with himself. “Why not is a better question? In this world, where every move is a statement of how much strength and power you have, to seize control without this pomp would be a fool’s move.”
I scoff. It’s unintentional, but honestly, I’m a little astounded by his oversharing, considering what a tight-mouthed prick he’s been so far.
I’m surprised he doesn’t beat the smirk off my face, although I suspect he’s enjoying his moment in the spotlight too much for anything to dampen it. My sass included. In a lot of ways, though, it’s also a sign there’s more theatrics to come.
The door that was dangled like a carrot is next. Black slows as we approach it, clearly wanting to say more. I stop walking and wait for him to elaborate.
A smile twitches over his mouth, and that glint of ego he’s always had in his eyes shines bright as his stomach-churning scent becomes more pronounced. “There are many people alive who have played a longer game than we have. Of course I’m going to gloat.”
“You don’t think you should wait until you’ve achieved your goal?”
He leans close, nearly nose to nose with me. “Who’s to say we haven’t already?”
I step back, drawing my hands up protectively, not trusting him for a second. Shaking my head to rid his influence, I’m again thrown by his mouthy confidence. “I’m sorry, from where I’m standing, I can’t see this victory of yours.”
“Neither could Arthur.” He laughs under his breath. “We had the same vision, the same drive to reclaim the Irish. Arthur’s problem wasn’t what he wanted to do, it was how fucking long it was taking. The twist of fate is, now the Kellys will be taken out with the O’Connors.”
“And then you’ll be claiming the Irish as yours?” I cough out a laugh. “You’ll be the Boss, when you’ve been nothing but a button your whole life?”
He moves fast, retaliating hard. His uppercut has me seeing flashes of white and staggering backwards.
But I’d intentionally reminded him that there’s a big difference between being born with power and being a made man.
I’m pretty sure there’s nothing more offensive I could have said.
It’s true, though—he is a button, a low-ranking man in organized crime.
Just one with a dangerous ego and delusions of grandeur.
“Watch your mouth,” he spits, looming over me, his finger jabbing down as his anger leaks past his usual control.
I smile sweetly, despite the blinding pain in my jaw.
Climbing to my feet and walking until his finger is pressed against my chest. “You’ll need a lot more strength and control than that, Black.
We’re talking about the Irish. You’re a fool if you think you’re capable of running the streets.
‘They’ won’t let you.” I use my fingers to emphasize, to incite him some more because his emotional outburst is a sign of his weakness. One I plan to exploit.
He leans closer, quickly grasping a hold of the anger that had made him lash out, but his voice still breaks when he speaks. “We’ll keep taking things of importance until the last of our opponents fall to their knees and swear their allegiance.”
I somehow keep a hold of my own thrill surging through my system off my face and out of my voice. Finally, we’re starting to get somewhere. I tip my head to the side, looking as confused as possible. “Things?”
“Tally, you occasionally have these sparks of insight, and I think they’re a sign of your intelligence. In the next word you say, I am reminded, again, you could well be one of the stupidest people I’ve ever met.”
My mouth falls open, and I bring tears to my eyes. And the fucking idiot believes the sincerity of my tears because they fall. Did no one teach this twat about sticks and stones? With a wobbly chin, I swipe my cheeks dry, glaring daggers at him. “What an awful thing to say.”
“The facts speak for themselves. A smart person might have been able to save their cousin. I’m embarrassed for you even now.
I read over the interview notes you did with one of the local Garda, and despite it all being right in front of you, you gave them not one solid lead.
Although, between you and me, Liam was always going to die, the same as Noinin.
His case file in the department was going to go missing too. ”
The impact of his words is immediate. The tears that fall this time are as real as the air I breathe.
When the door swings wide open, my memory of that day unlocks like an avalanche. I stare at the group, trying to breathe through the gaping hole left behind from Oscar’s deceit.
For years, I couldn’t remember the day, but now as Oscar stands with a woman in an expensive designer dress and flawless makeup, and Father O’Leary in an equally expensive suit, everything falls into place.
Everything.
All it took was a man in a suit and not a cassock and vestment, a bitch with great hair, and my uncle’s hateful stare at seeing me.
Oscar left me in the car to go into the market, supposedly to look for Liam, but I followed him at a distance, wanting to help. I even called out his name, but he didn’t turn around. Before I could catch up, he walked through a gate marked “staff only” and that struck me as wrong.
I counted up to a hundred before a feeling descended over me, clawing me from the inside out, like I was suffocating.
Liam left, and then Oscar disappeared, leaving me alone.
I remember feeling even smaller because no one saw me falling apart.
In a crowded market, no one stopped to help. I was invisible.
I can’t even remember how long I stood there, because when an older man, Father O’Leary, and Oscar walked back out of the gate, they were both laughing and fondling a woman, kissing her face and nibbling her neck. The three of them walked straight past me.
“Come say hello to your uncle, Tally,” Black croons happily, like a snake about to bite, snapping me out of my memory.
He’s waiting for me to fall apart. One day, I will. But not in front of any of these people. No fucking way.
I use Oscar as the reason for my shock. It makes the most sense.
But I need a moment to prepare. Leaning forward with my hands braced on my knees, I heave loud and deep breaths for a few moments, letting the noise of them quieten with each round I take, until I tilt my head to look at Oscar. “I thought you were dead.”
My uncle laughs cruelly, the others joining in. He goes to talk, and only a harsh rasp comes out. From where I am, I can’t hear what he’s saying, but his lips are moving.
The time I spent getting my head together helps immensely. Instead of snatching Black’s gun and killing all these idiots, I act as brainless as they think I am.
“What happened? Why can’t you talk?”
Black steps forward again. “The O’Connors happened, which is why you’re now a part of this song and dance.
It’s kind of fitting, isn’t it? The men you are married to cut Oscar’s throat and left him for dead.
Since the world we live in, Tally, is an eye for an eye, you’ll be the one we’re taking as our revenge.
At the same time, there is always good money to be made.
You’re going on a trip to be a hole for an angry man, who hates the O’Connors as much as we do, to fuck.
Oscar negotiated proof of your death, however it is delivered and whenever.
We can only have one miracle survivor in the family. ”
I clutch a hand to my chest as he speaks, letting my expression fill with horror and disbelief. “I’m not married to them. It was child's play.”
“Yet, they’re the ones who killed Des Kelly and his son.” Black remains the spokesperson.
I lose grip of the act at his accusation. Swinging around, I jab a finger in Black’s direction. “No. They wouldn’t do that. They don’t hurt children.”
Black laughs again. “You’re even more of an idiot than I took into account.
Perfect match for them, in a lot of ways.
We’d not be here if they’d jumped on board with Oscar’s suggestion we branch out into trafficking in the first place.
Thankfully, Arthur could see the untapped opportunity.
Oscar’s loyalty to the Kelly’s and our vision of taking the Irish, was ironically repaid by Arthur Kelly himself on the day your uncle was all but murdered.
Arthur had the right person on hand, a surgeon of all people.
Oscar survived, met his pack, and the rest is history. ”
The way they stay close to each other adds weight to Black’s allusion—they’re packed.
But in his big unveiling, he also outs himself.
It’s pretty clear that, no matter how hard he’s worked for them for all these years, he’s still not a part of the inner circle.
He’s the grunt of the group. And that’s fucking hilarious.
I nearly blow my cover again and laugh. Only just managing to keep my head in the game and continuing to act as stupid as they’ve decided I am. “I’m confused.”
The woman rolls her eyes and talks under her breath, her ridicule stinking the air as much as her expensive perfume.
Oscar leans over and talks into O’Leary’s ear before straightening back up and leveling an awful lot of hate my way.
O’Leary says, “He said he wishes he sent you to the trafficker instead of Liam.”
I drop my eyes to the floor to hide the pain of Oscar’s words, because by God, it is agonizing. I don’t have too long to deal with the shock of Oscar’s callousness because O’Leary speaks again, implicating himself and others. Providing me the intel I need.
“Tell Olga to send in Catalina to get her ready. And, Black, you’re to hand deliver this one to Sovietnik.
She might be a pretty prize for our Russian associate to ruin, but the heat you’ve brought with her is counterproductive to our cause.
In your impatience, we’re pushed to act earlier than intended. ”
Black goes to argue, but O’Leary renders him silent with a look.
That simple look confirms Black is nothing but a lackey, but it also lets me know O'Leary has been hiding his designation under his holy robes for way too long.
Black ignores the room, and his focus locks onto the woman. He’s unrepentant in the way he stares longingly at her. He’s all but pleading with her to stand up and claim him as hers, but instead of standing, she curls her manicured hand in Oscar’s.
“You’re always welcome to come play, but Aisling is ours, Black.
” O’Leary speaks intimately, almost like I’m not here.
But at the same time, he’s firmly putting Black in his place, humiliating him with each word he says.
“She never was yours, even when she was married to Arthur. Don’t make a fool out of yourself, chasing whispered pillow promises said to keep you in the game.
Tally is a good example of what happens when people don’t properly understand their place. ”
Out of church and dressed in civilian clothes, O’Leary is an entirely different person.
There’s not one iota of compassion or empathy, and honestly, his energy reminds me more of the devil than a man of God.
Even the way he speaks and hisses all but confirms what a snake he is.
“If we have issues with the Garda, Black, I will come for you. We’ve established a very successful and profitable business of selling children together.
Don’t let petty jealousy ruin a good thing.
With all the money you’ve made, you can buy yourself whatever gold-dipped cunt you want. Aisling, though, isn’t for sale.”
“What about Mass?” Black calls out, and Oscar and O’Leary look at him.
“It goes on without you,” O’Leary says. “All I need is a gunman, Black. And like dirty cops and cheap hoors, they’re as common as sand on the beach around here.”
I wish I had the chance to stay and watch the shitstorm happen some more, but Father O’Leary stands up, along with Oscar and Aisling. The three of them start walking. They only falter when, from the other room, there’s a cacophony of sounds as alerts hit mobiles and a scanner bursts to life.
Doyle races through the door. “Everyone needs to go. Now.”
At a sign I miss, another group of men, all looking to Black for direction, stream from all sides of the warehouse.
Groups converge and steer towards the three setups.
The car gets driven straight out of the doors.
Even though I was never going to get in, the cruel setup Black did, insinuating it was fitted out with a car bomb, isn’t missed.
Next, the cushions are taken. I feel sick watching the casual way the place where I was assaulted is cleared away.
Beside me, the barrel is the only thing that is handled with more care. It gets loaded into a mover’s van.
I’m caught in everything happening around me, watching Black as he oversees everyone. For a split second, I seriously think this is my chance. With him distracted, I search for which exit is the busiest to see where I can go.
Black’s hawk-like gaze sharpens over my shoulder. I don’t get the chance to check behind me to see what’s got him glaring before someone grips my elbow, crushing it and sending me staggering.
As I swing around, Johnny’s black and blue mottled face fills my vision. He’s closer than I realized anyone was. I’m defenseless to the anger roiling off him, not even getting a hand up in surrender. And then he barks at me. “Submit.”