Chapter 21 Caroline
CAROLINE
Murdering my brother shouldn’t be this boring.
I slump back in my seat with a groan of frustration. For the fifth night in a row, Redmond hasn’t shown up. “Where the hell is he?!”
Finn shrugs, not looking particularly bothered, even though we’ve been watching the construction site for the past five hours. My back hurts from sitting. All I want to do is go for a walk. I like my husband, but right now I want to stab him in the face, just to break up the monotony.
“You could always ask your family.”
“Yeah, right. Like that wouldn’t be suspicious.”
“You don’t talk to them?”
“Not unless I absolutely have to.”
“Guess that’s fair. They don’t fucking deserve it.” He stares out into the night. “The bombs are planted. He’ll show.”
I have to trust him. I mean, what other choice is there?
Liam assures us the following day that Redmond is definitely still in the city and actively working on Flanagan projects.
But it seems that his attention has been diverted elsewhere.
I spend another few nights with Finn staking the place out in a black, beat-up old Altima with fake plates.
No reason to risk one of his cars being seen in the area.
We eat fast food and pass the time talking.
That last part isn’t bad. I expected it to feel like pulling teeth with him. Finn’s cocky and funny, but he’s not exactly a great conversationalist. Mostly he wants to make jokes and move on. Except when we’re alone, somehow things just flow. We never run out of things to say.
He tells me about his family, about his brothers, their wives, and his parents. He talks about his father like the man was a saint. “He kept everything together. My mother was the brains and he was the charm. Dad is the reason the Whelan clan is as important as it is.”
“Why are you so important, anyway?”
Finn glances at me. “We help the community.”
I bust out laughing, but he’s clearly not kidding. “You sell drugs. You blackmail politicians. What do you mean, you help the community?”
“We do sell drugs and blackmail important people, that’s true.
We also kill violent bastards who beat their wives, give out turkeys at Thanksgiving, help needy assholes with their bills, run more than a few markets that sell goods at discounted rates, and practically manage half a dozen different charities that keep parts of this city running. We’re more than just monsters.”
I lean back and consider it. I twirl the murder glass ring around my finger.
That’s becoming a nervous habit. “But you’re criminals too.
I mean, I’d know better than anyone. My dad’s the worst of them all.
He basically skims money from every single city construction project imaginable thanks to his sway with the unions. ”
“Nothing’s ever that simple. We’re not just a gang of roving thugs.
My brother genuinely cares about this city and the people he looks after.
Anyone remotely related to the clan has a decent standard of living.
He makes sure of it. And everyone else, if they’re not bastards or rivals, they’re given what we can spare. ”
“Prove it.” I sit up straight, frowning. “Show me.”
“I’ll take you to the health clinic in Brooklyn or the shelter in Hell’s Kitchen. We have a dozen places just like those.”
“Do you think that good balances out the bad shit?” I feel a sudden eager flutter in my chest. Maybe this is how I can wash the stain off my soul.
“If you want to get theological, my answer is a resounding who fucking knows.”
“But it could, and maybe once this is all over—”
He looks at me, and I expect him to laugh in my face. I mean, what do I think I can do for people? I’m just some random abuse victim with no money, no education, and no prospects outside of my psycho killer husband.
But he only nods. “Once this is over, you can do whatever you want. I’ll make sure of it. You’ll walk away from this marriage with enough money to live and then some.”
I stiffen and look down at my hands. I forgot that was a part of the deal. Once I’m done helping him kill my brothers, he promised to divorce me. We’re not really married, remember? This is all fake. It’s all some bullshit smoke screen.
But if that’s the case, why the ring? Why look at me the way he does?
I shouldn’t feel so crushed. I smile and act like that’s totally fine. “You better add a few zeroes to that sum. I plan on doing a lot of philanthropy once I retire from murder.”
He nods, face a grim set. “As much as you want.”
My smile slips. Silence settles into the car.
It’s the first time I’ve felt any sort of strain being with him.
Why would I care though? This has always been the deal.
I knew it from the start, and it’s not his fault I haven’t thought about it.
I can’t blame him if I’ve been imagining myself living as his wife.
This was always fake.
A truck suddenly slows near the site entrance.
Finn nudges my knee and nods in its direction.
I lean forward as Redmond gets out, opens the gate, drives the truck through, and closes it again.
We sit in stunned silence. Even though this is what we’ve been waiting for, it’s like neither of us thought it would happen.
“You ready?” he says, tilting toward me. “You still think you can do this?”
“Definitely.” I grab a walkie-talkie pair from the glove box and give him one. He gets out of the car and we test them. “This is Caroline calling Finn the dickhead, over.”
“This is Finn the dickhead, over.” He leans down to the window and rests his elbows on the edge. “I watch. You wait. When it’s time, I’ll say the trigger words, ‘Blow it now.’ Then you do your thing.”
I mime hitting the button with my thumb. “Make sure you’re already running.”
Nerves tingle along my spine. He walks away from the car toward the big fence, a hood pulled up over his head, a medical mask over his face. It’s impossible to identify him.
And now I wait. This is how I wanted it from the start.
I made him promise to let me do this part, and he only agreed because he jerked me around with Shane.
I want to be the one that pushes the button.
I want my thumb to blow that generator, and I want it to be my fault when Redmond gets vaporized.
With the amount of explosives Liam cleverly hid inside the generators, anyone standing within twenty feet is going to end up nothing more than pink mist and memory.
I figure Finn doesn’t mind that my job is slightly less dangerous.
I sit behind the wheel and wait. My knee jogs up and down nervously. Beside me on the passenger seat, there’s a small array of buttons, each one corresponding to a different generator. When Finn calls it in, he’ll tell me which to push.
And if I don’t do it fast enough or if something goes wrong on my end, he’s got a failsafe that’ll light them all up at once, just in case.
Finn’s fast and sure as he hurries across the street.
I wait, stomach knotted. I’m not very patient.
I’ve never been good at waiting. Even when I was a kid, I could barely sit still for ten seconds, which obviously pissed off my brothers to no end.
They enjoyed teaching me how to stay in one place, especially Redmond.
One time when I was small, maybe only six or seven at most, he made me sit on a chair with my feet in a bucket of ice water.
If you get up before five minutes, I’m going to hit you.
He said it was to teach me self-control.
All it taught me was to hate cold showers.
He hit me anyway, even when I made it through my time.
I’m looking forward to pressing the button. Every part of me itches to do it. I want to hear the explosion and know that I’m the one who ruined him. I’m the one who ended his life. It’s a shame he won’t ever know it was me, but that won’t matter. He’ll be dead and I won’t.
I look up to check on Finn’s progress, but another car comes down the street. My heart stutters when it slows and pulls up to the construction site’s gate. I stare, not believing it, as Red appears to let the BMW through.
I grab my walkie in a panic and push the button. “Finn, hold on. We need to get out of here.” I wait, but only get static in response. “Finn, do you read me? Over? We need to get out of here!”
More static. I flip through the channels, sweat dripping down my spine, but he never replies. What the hell is happening? We didn’t test these stupid things over long distances, which was obviously a mistake.
If I don’t reply when he calls me, he’s going to wait ten seconds before he blows the generators himself.
And if that happens…
He’s going to kill my mom.
Because that was her car just now.
I shove the door open and jump out. Finn’s nowhere nearby.
I don’t know what to do. I have no idea where he went to keep an eye out for Redmond.
He might still be on this side of the fence or he could have jumped it to get a better view.
That’s what I would do if I were him. It’s the only way to guarantee a kill… and the perfect show.
I can’t just run over and start screaming. If I do that, Mom and Redmond will hear me. They’ll know I was lurking out here. They’ll realize something’s going on. That would ruin everything and we’d never get our revenge on the rest of my family.
But I can’t let Finn kill my mother.
I sprint toward the fence. I’m breathing hard and my hands are shaking.
I find a good spot and heave myself up, climbing as fast as I can.
I need to be quieter, but there’s no time.
I get to the top and nearly fall over. My foot catches on one of the posts and I barely manage to right myself in time to land on my feet.
I stagger and my knees scrape on the dirt, but I’m not hurt.