9. Chapter 9
Connor
“Iwant answers, damn it!” The sound of ceramic crashing against the wall burst out before I opened the door to Mickey’s office.
He stood, bent over, his hands on the desk, shattered pieces of his coffee mug scattered across the floor.
Judging by the fresh brown stain across the wall, it was still full when he threw it.
Mickey’s chest heaved while his face turned dark red.
When I stepped into the room, his glare turned towards me. “Where the fuck were you?” he snarled. In that position and with his jaw clenched, Mickey looked like an animal ready to pounce. I was not going to be his prey. I pushed my chest forward.
“Want to try that again?” I asked, my voice in a lower register.
“You were supposed to be there for the drop the night of the gala, but you were distracted by the fucking Moretti girl. Now I’m missing weight.” Mickey’s jaw clenched and unclenched, and he sucked in one heavy breath after the other. I was surprised he didn’t pass out. “Do you want to explain?”
I narrowed my eyes. Was he suggesting I stole drugs from the most dangerous man in Boston directly under his nose? Nobody was that stupid. Apparently, somebody was.
“What the fuck are you trying to say?” I snapped. I knew what the Cassidy family did to those who stole from them, and I knew enough to know they were never found when they did. We weren’t going down that route.
“I’m saying maybe I was wrong to trust you, and you know where my supply is.
” Mickey grabbed another mug, flinging it in my direction with his next breath.
What was with the fucking mugs? I ducked to the side, letting it hit the wall behind me.
A piece of ceramic hit me in the back before it landed by my heel.
“Don’t fuck with me, Murphy!” he screamed.
“That was mine!” Luca protested, watching his much-needed caffeine fix fly across the room.
“Fuck you. I didn’t take anything.” I turned and pointed to the only other two captains without the last name Cassidy. “Elijah and Brian were there. Why aren’t you questioning them?”
Mickey straightened and slowly stalked around to the front of the desk, slowly closing the distance between us with added tension.
“Are you saying these men are to blame?” He paused to put his hands on their shoulders.
“These men grew up with me my entire life. They’re like brothers to me. Are you suggesting they stole from me?”
He was casual when he pulled his gun from its hidden holster and aimed it directly at Brian. Elijah and Brian whipped their heads around to glare at me—a silent warning I better watch my back. I shook my head. “No. I’m saying I didn’t fucking steal from you.”
“And how am I supposed to believe that when you’re fucking the sister of our biggest problem? The Moretti brothers want nothing more than to run us out of the neighborhood we’ve kept safe for decades. How do I know you’re not in on their little ploy to steal our home out from under my nose?”
I stepped forward, saving him the last few steps.
My heart pounded heavier with frustration.
“I think you’re fucking paranoid.” I put my hands on his shoulders and shoved him back a step, following him with a forward step of my own.
“I think you got a little paranoid, and instead of finding who actually stole from you, you’re coming after me.
Do you think I’m going to bend over and take it like one of your little cronies? ”
“You’re lucky you’re here at all,” Mickey said, returning the shove and forcing me backward. He towered over me more when he was this angry, but I stood tall, holding my balance when he pushed me again, harder.
“No, you’re lucky I’m here.” I started to roll up my sleeves.
“Don’t forget, I’m the best fucking negotiator you’ve ever had.
You need me here. You’re nothing without me.
” My anger got the best of me, and a red filter clouded my vision.
I curled my hands into fists, ready to feel Mickey’s jawbone crack beneath them, until Mickey turned his gun on me.
The click when he cocked it was unmistakable—he never did that unless he intended to pull the trigger, and when he aimed the gun at me, the red filter turned burgundy. “Say it again,” Mickey dared.
“Okay, okay, put the gun down. This has gone far enough.” Finally, Luca stepped forward, putting his hand on Mickey’s forearm in an attempt to diffuse the situation. When Mickey didn’t drop his arm, Luca pushed on it. “This is over!” he insisted forcefully.
Mickey glared at him and then scanned the room, sharing his seething anger equally with everyone until he landed on me.
Where there had been anger, there was now a warning—a threat to never question his authority again, not if I didn’t want to see him pull the trigger.
Luca took a deep breath when Mickey slowly lowered his arm, but none of his muscles relaxed. He was still ready to fire in a beat.
“You don’t actually know Connor did anything.” Luca was often the voice of reason, even if he was also often the least serious. Sometimes, I wondered if he was the only one capable of bringing Mickey down off the ledge like that.
“But if he did, he’s dead.” Mickey looked at Luca and then back to me. The dark stare in his eyes told me he meant every word of it. Not that I questioned it—again, I’d seen what he was capable of.
“I mean, sure,” Luca said, chuckling. He patted Mickey on the back and turned to look at me.
“If he stole from us, he’s definitely fucking dead.
But you didn’t steal from us, right, buddy?
You’re like family, and you’d never do anything to betray family.
” The underlying threat was sugar-coated beneath the reminder of a family I only belonged to as long as it worked out for them.
I shook my head. “I didn’t fucking steal from you.” But I was going to find out who did.
Mickey nodded his head and pointed to the door—a simple gesture that resulted in the rest of the captains standing and making their way out of the room.
He walked back to his desk, pausing to look over his shoulder at me one more time.
“You better hope it doesn’t ever get back to me that you did.
I won’t hesitate to pull that trigger next time. ”