Chapter 18
Romeo and Romeo
CORMAC
Setting up the security system for her was either the worst idea I've ever had or the best.
I don't know for sure that it'll keep anyone out.
I do know for sure it won't keep me out.
And not only because I angled the cameras to leave myself just enough space to go unnoticed if I slip in through her bedroom window instead of the back patio. The climb to that is a bit more precarious, but it's definitely not impossible.
And not just because, after I set it up, I made sure to screengrab the code she typed on my own phone so I can dismantle it any time I want to.
A few extra layers of safety measures won't hurt.
And they're basically useless against me.
She doesn't know that yet, but she will soon enough.
After our last visit, I've been giving her just a little space.
I don't want to. I fucking hate it, actually. Hate every moment spent away from her, but Brigit needs to feel like herself again and keep living her life.
I'll just watch it through the cameras she doesn't know about.
For now, I need to figure out who the fuck was poking around her place.
If it was really an officer, that's a problem. Their access to her address and place of work is going to make it much harder to keep her safe from them.
If it's not an officer, I have nowhere to even start looking.
She described the man to me, and while I had initially suspected it was Steele, her recollection didn't sound like him, which was even worse, leaving me with nowhere to even begin looking.
"You got it all figured out, then?" Sky asks, setting up behind the bar for tonight's patrons.
I nod, slicing lemons and arranging them to help with the preparation. "Only thought about throwing the fucking thing out the window a couple times."
He laughs, "Yeah, doing this one took us all day when we set it up. You actually did crush one of the cameras. Smashed it against the wall."
"You're kidding," I groan.
With another laugh, he continues, "Nah. It was hilarious. You cut your hand open and then stormed out of here all Fuck this and bullshit camera."
"I'm not sure if I should be embarrassed or not," I grimace. "In the grand scheme of the shit we’ve done, breaking a camera seems pretty tame."
He shrugs, "We are who we are, Cormac. Even if you don't remember him, you're still that guy."
"Do I have to be?" I ask. "What if I don't want to kill anyone anymore?"
Sky sighs, "Then we don't. I don't like getting my hands dirty, and I don't trust myself not to leave DNA in the form of my fucking vomit if I have to be the one to kill someone. We just pivot and eliminate these scumbags another way."
"Like what?"
His face lights up with manic glee, "Like luring them into Mingle to watch the fights and then tipping off the police to where their stash is."
"That's why you've been so happy to pummel them?" I ask.
He nods, throwing a handful of orange slices into a black plastic container.
"I've been doing it basically since you left.
I wouldn't let them fight, wouldn't even let them in since we're rivals or whatever. It wasn’t until they accused me of fixing the fights that I decided to prove them wrong and fuck them over at the same time.”
"And what if one of them had been able to kick your ass?"
With a shrug, he moves on to lemons, "Then they'd kick my ass. It wouldn't change the fact that they've been here, distracted, unknowingly leaving themselves vulnerable."
"If they've been here, and you've been here beating their faces in, who found their shit?" I ask, curious about how he's kept this all running while also being the distraction.
"Wolfy's been hanging out with one of 'em."
I raise a brow, "Hanging out?" From what I've picked up from bad mafia movies and my short time back, there's not really much inter-gang friendship happening.
"Yeah," he shrugs. "It's very Romeo and Romeo. Feuding families. Horny barely legal idiots."
"And you used Julian's relationship to gather information?" A slimy, guilty feeling pulls at my stomach.
Sky's responding laugh is uncomfortable, "Fomori, I know this is a lot to readjust to, but we're putting away people who are smuggling drugs and using kids on the street to deal. Wolfe knows the deal, knows what's happening. He thinks he can save the guy if his bosses get locked up."
"But you disagree," I supply what he's not saying.
With a heavy sigh, he knocks his knuckles against the table, "I think Julian isn't ready to accept that his boyfriend isn't just dealing. He's using the shit. And when his bosses are put away, he'll either find new ones or somewhere else to get it."
"I don't know how I feel about it," I groan.
"Well, if it helps," he slices a little more aggressively, "I feel like shit about it."
His honesty does help. No sane person could possibly enjoy the prospect of hurting kids who are barely old enough to drink; of them getting their hearts broken or worse.
And while I'm not sane by a long shot, as it turns out, I'm no monster. And neither is Sky. But we've had to act like we are to fight against the rising tide of the real psychopaths out there.
"We're lucky that none of them fall under your specific type."
"What do you mean?"
He sets everything down, looking right through me, "I mean, they're drug dealers and idiots, but they're not sick enough to trigger you to go all serial killer-y. I'm not sure exactly what would happen if someone did right now. You're not 100% you, but you're still in there somewhere."
That doesn't make any fucking sense.
And I don't even know if I'd be capable of killing anyone now.
The drive sits right under my skin, but the inclination just existing isn't the same as actually following through and doing it.
"Anyway, the damage is done," he sniffs dismissively, "Steele and his buddies are rolling up to their warehouse tonight during the fight and that'll be that."
"You called Steele? I thought we were done with him."
Coming around the bar, he brings with him a massive tub of prepped ingredients to drop off downstairs, pointing with his head for me to follow.
As I do, he answers, "We are done with him. But I was hoping that calling to drop an anonymous tip would get him to fucking relax about it. He's been a pain in my ass for weeks about that file he dropped off.”
“What is it that he wants us to do?”
He groans, “Some fucking private loan officer supposedly has skeletons in his closet. Steele dropped off his ultra clean background check but insisted he’s into some shady stuff they haven’t been able to prove yet.”
“And he thinks we can find it?” I ask.
He nods, “He’s probably right. Now that you’re back, it would be easy.”
"Why haven't we killed him?" I ask, "If he's basically just using us and doesn't care about keeping these victims safe, isn't he as bad as the rest of them?"
Skyler laughs, kicking the door to the back of house open, "I'm not sure you're ready to dive back into being a killer, Cormac, much less a cop killer.”
"Might have to be," I mutter.
He pauses, narrowing his eyes, "Why?"
"Someone showed up at Brigit's apartment, threatening her and asking about me," I explain. "That's why she got all freaked out and ordered that stuff."
He scoffs, "So you were right."
I follow shortly behind him, "Not sure how, but yeah, I was."
"I think it's that shit I was saying. Even though your mind doesn't remember, you're still you.
You still know that girl like she's an extension of yourself.
You slice and prep like we've done a million times back when we didn't have the staff to do it.
I didn't even tell you what shape we cut them into, but your hands knew. "
I sigh heavily, weighed down by the truth in his words and the implications. It makes me wonder what other things could come back like muscle memory if I let them. How easy it might be to kill someone if the need arose.
"What did he look like?" he asks.
"She said he wasn't very tall. She towered over him. Dark hair. Blue eyes. No other really defining details," I tell him. "That could describe anyone. Cop or no. You know how fucking easy it is to get a fake badge and uniform now."
He nods slowly, thoughtfully before responding, "I know you're still stuck in limbo about what kind of man you are, if it's who you were ten years ago, or who you were a few months ago.
But I can tell you right now, only one of those men would be capable of figuring out who dared to threaten your girl.
" Setting the container on the downstairs bar top, he sits in the seat in front of it, spinning to face me.
"You were never a bad man, Cormac, even at your worst. Just a violent one.
It's not a bad thing to be just what you are.
You need to stop being afraid of Bás Dorcha and start being afraid of what might happen if you can't find him. "
I know he's right.
But this killer living in my skin terrifies me. What if I let it out and hurt someone who doesn't deserve it?
If I go down that path, will it all play out exactly the same again? With someone nearly killing me, or maybe even succeeding?
I've been given a second chance, and for better or worse, I'm already making different choices than I did before.
I watched Brigit from afar for years after she turned down the job offer. I didn't even speak to her after that. That's the most confusing part of it all. What could have changed from firing my lawyer before even offering Brigit the job, being so sure about her, and then—
"When did it happen?" I ask suddenly.
"What?"
"Your stepdad."
His cheeks puff out as he pushes out a big breath, "I don't know. I wanna say December? Could have even been January. I know it was cold as shit. Several years ago now."
"2021?"
He shrugs, "Could be."
I would bet good money that's when it was. It all lines up too perfectly.