Chapter 23
Seamus
Ilean forward, my chest practically resting against the glass of scotch in front of me. A Mets game is on TV, a replay from the night before. I can’t pay much attention to it. The bar’s thinning out this late on a weeknight, and I know I have to go home soon.
I just don’t want to.
I know what’s waiting for me there.
She wasn’t around when I dragged myself out of bed after getting a few terrible hours of sleep. Probably at Sistine. At least I’m not worried Molchanie’s going to kill her.
I’ve got new nightmares to deal with.
And more guilt than I know how to handle.
The old Seamus would’ve gone with all this. I would’ve flowed around the situation like water. But now I’m stuck in the river like a giant boulder, and I don’t know how I’m ever going to move again.
Which is a fucking problem.
“I hear you’ve been staring at the wall for the last couple of hours.” Finn sits heavily at my elbow and orders a Guinness. “You all good, or do I need to call Mom?”
“Please, for the love of God, leave her out of this.”
“Good, sounds like you haven’t gone insane. So what’s happening? Why are you hiding out here?”
I shake my head. “It’s not important.”
“Bullshit. You never mope around bars like this. Trouble back home? You avoiding the new wife?” He grins at me and sips his beer. “Don’t tell me paradise is lost already?”
“You have no idea,” I mutter, frustrated, and let out a long breath. “Can I tell you something? And can you swear you won’t repeat it to our parents?”
His smirk fades and his head tilts. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”
“It’s no joke. I need you to swear on your life, Finn. This can’t leave our circle.” I gesture between us.
“You have my word. What’s going on?”
I fill him in, starting with the note Alina found in her apartment, touching on Oliver’s killing, and finally ending with the Molchanie meeting. He sits back and absorbs everything, and by the time I’m done, he’s ordering a second beer and a refill on my scotch.
“You think she’s being serious?” Finn asks, hunched forward on his elbows now, like the weight of my situation is forcing him down.
“I think she cut the throats of two men to make sure I knew she wasn’t fucking around. I think she’ll do whatever it takes to get what she wants.”
“But why?” Finn shakes his head, mystified. “I don’t get it.”
“She says we’re dangerous. And maybe she’s right. We don’t exactly have the safest lifestyle in the world.”
“Sounds like bullshit to me.”
“Whatever her motivations are, our family’s in danger now.”
He rubs his face and sucks down half his second Guinness. “What are you gonna do?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, staring at my glass. I roll it around slowly, watching the liquor press up against the edges. “I lose no matter what. If I divorce Alina, I might spark a war with the Morozovs. Ruslan won’t take that well.”
“You could always explain to him the situation.”
“Think he’ll believe it? And even if he does, think he’ll accept it? It’s not his family getting killed. All he cares about is the business.”
“That’s true, but still. Ruslan’s not a psychopath.” Finn pauses and brushes fingers through his hair. “Well, he’s not stupid anyway.”
“Even if Ruslan did agree to a divorce, what kind of message does that send? It lets everyone know that I can be pushed around. That the Whelan clan is weak. A couple of deaths, some creepy notes, a decent threat or two, and we cave.”
Finn’s eyebrows raise. “You care about our image?”
“I run our street ops. All I do is manage our fucking image and make sure nobody in this city thinks they can fuck with us without repercussions.”
“What are you going to do? Sounds like you can’t win either way.”
I nod to myself and look up at the ceiling. “I could always jump off a bridge.”
“Not funny.”
“I know. Not helpful either. Alina would just have to marry you, and then you’d have to deal with Molchanie.”
“Please stay away from bridges. I’m not really interested in a wife right now.”
“Then you need to find Molchanie for me.”
He snorts softly like he thinks I’m kidding. Then he sighs when he realizes I’m not and finishes his drink. “That’s not going to go well.”
“And it won’t be easy, but what other choice do we have? Find Molchanie, take her out, and our problems disappear.”
“She’s a trained, skilled assassin. There’s no way she’s going to leave herself exposed.”
“You’ve got a week. That’s plenty of time.”
“Why me?”
“Because Cormac’s got a family to worry about, and Declan will run straight to Mom and Dad the second he finds out what’s going on. You’re the only person I trust.”
“Well, shit.”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
“I guess I might as well give it a try. She’ll probably cut my throat in a week either way.” He sighs and pushes himself up.
“I appreciate you, brother.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll keep you updated.”
I watch Finn go. I hate myself for involving him, but I can’t do this alone. I’ll need some family resources, but Dad will notice if I’m devoting too much of my time to hunting down Molchanie.
Finn’s got more leeway in our family. He’s not assigned to anything specific and is free to float between tasks. And because he’s a Whelan, that gives him more clout. He can pull a few soldiers and reassign them as needed without too much issue.
But I can’t rely on him. I have to figure out who Molchanie is and why she cares about Alina. Once I know that, I might be able to find a way out of this situation.
The TV is on softly when I close the door to Alina’s apartment behind me. It’s a little past two in the morning, and I stayed at the bar for as long as I could.
Eventually, I had to come home.
Alina’s sitting on the couch. She’s in a crop top and a pair of flannel pants and looks absolutely perfect. She’s pretending like she doesn’t know I’m home. Her eyes are glued to some paperback she’s got in her lap, which gives me a second to study her.
There are bags under her eyes. She looks stressed and unhappy. But she’s still so damn beautiful it breaks my heart.
“Are you sleeping in the guest room again?” she asks casually, not looking over.
“I planned on it.”
“Good.”
I don’t move. I don’t want to go upstairs to that empty room. I want my wife. I want to pull her against me in the middle of the night and kiss her mouth. I want her to know how badly I want her, but I can’t do it, not right now.
I’m dangerous.
Molchanie seems to care about Alina for whatever reason, but I’m afraid of what’ll happen if I keep getting close to her.
It might cloud my judgment. Or worse, it might make Molchanie decide that she doesn’t want Alina alive anymore after all.
I don’t know the stakes here, and until I do, I have to act like the worst-case scenario is possible.
And that’s Alina with her throat cut open.
“Did you wait up for me?” I hate myself for asking. I shouldn’t even be talking to her right now. I need to keep my distance so I can think clearly.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She snaps her book shut. “Just couldn’t sleep.”
“Been hard lately.”
“No thanks to you.”
“Alina—”
“Whatever, it’s fine.” She turns off the TV and gets off the couch. “I’m heading up.”
I watch her stride past me with her chin raised. I want to reach out and grab her wrist so badly it hurts. If I could press my lips to hers, she might understand. I’m not putting distance between us because I want to. I’m doing it because I’m toxic right now.
It kills me as much as it hurts her.
Probably even worse.
I let her pass. I watch her go. There’s nothing in this world I want more than to crawl into bed with her tonight.
Instead, I slink upstairs after she’s had a chance to get settled and disappear into the empty guest room.