Chapter 16 – Isaac
Chapter Sixteen
Isaac
Istep into Callum Murray’s office since he’s the only one of the brothers that I can contact on such short notice.
He has a pleasant demeanor and the radio is tuned to a baseball game, which is pretty old-fashioned.
He turns the knob all the way down once I walk in with Gabby and gestures to our leather, professional seats.
“Are we talking about business appropriate for women today?” Callum asks me, almost ignoring Gabby’s presence.
I forgot that mobsters could have a tendency towards traditional attitudes.
Bikers have always appreciated a little bit of anarchy, but mobsters delight in hierarchy and feel strong convictions that their families only survive because of adherence to tradition.
Gabby looks to me for direction, which I’m sure she only does because of how physically terrifying Callum Murray is.
He’s around six-foot-eight, and muscular in a way that looks like he abuses the fuck out of steroids.
I’ve learned since moving out here that it’s all fueled by expensive wagyu steaks.
“None of our business suits women. She’s a friend. We can trust her.”
Callum’s examination of Gabby lingers.
“I would prefer if she sat outside.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I don’t know her and neither do you.”
“I met her at the bar.”
“For all we know, she could be working with the federal government, immigration, or the cops.”
“I’m not a cop, thank you very much. I’m more like an ACAB type…”
I don’t know what that means, but I glare at Gabby so that she pipes down. The less she says here, the better. I’m not letting her wait outside the office.
“I’ll send her down with a security guard.”
“Excuse me if I don’t trust a strange man with Gabby’s life.”
Callum grins. “I said I would send a guard. I didn’t say I would send a man.”
He lifts his old school black phone off the hook and presses the number 3. I don’t hear who picks up, but within a few minutes, a black woman appears in the doorway.
“This is my sister-in-law, Onika,” Callum says. “She’s interning for the company this summer while attending Harvard Law. Onika, this is Gabby.”
Gabby and Onika introduce themselves to each other and I feel as if now, she would willingly go outside and out of my sight.
“Take Gabby across the street for a pastry,” Callum says. “I need to talk to Mr. Sinclair.”
“No problem, Mr. Murray.”
“Onika will take good care of her,” Callum says. “I’m assuming Ethan doesn’t know that you’re down here?”
“Correct.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Callum says. “But will you discuss the contents of this meeting with him? I don’t want to get in the middle of any turf wars.”
This is a matter of efficiency, not secrecy. I let Callum know as much.
“Absolutely.”
“Perfect. Onika?”
The girl takes Gabby out of the office and I feel the strangest pang of concern in my chest. I shouldn’t betray this much vulnerability in front of Callum.
Our allegiances with the Boston Irish mob have lasted several years, but you never know when the tables might turn in the other direction given the times.
Some people think the best way to get their freedom is to take away someone else’s.
It would be unfortunate if the Irish ever tried to make that mistake.
First, I ask Callum to catch me up on the business events out East. At first, they were fairly unwilling to get involved in our direct action, especially since running guns to anti-DHS militia might attract negative attention from the federal government faster than running coke or guns for civil wars in Central America or other bullshit that didn’t interfere with their schemes.
Callum understands the risk we’re taking.
There’s plenty money to be made from conducting shady trade deals with fucked up veterans.
The militias may or may not have a righteous grudge against the government originally, but certainly appear to have a righteous cause now.
The number of felonies we’re racking up could fuck us all, but helping them out doesn’t feel as wrong as it should.
The mob – Callum Murray’s people – has lawyers and financial backing for that. The Barbarians don’t. We’re more country boys and handshake deal types of people than lawyer types – but I’m still willing to risk it. Not just for the money.
I can’t say I know what I would do if anyone tried picking Gabby up off the streets or worse to ship her off to some detention center somewhere. I can’t say how I would react if someone tried to take my kids from me.
“It’s my personal problems delaying our business,” I confess to Callum. “I married my best friend’s sister and she’s been hell to deal with since.”
“Sorry it didn’t work out for you.”
“I think she’s sleeping with an ex-DHS agent, member of one of the gangs that does all the illegal shit the government doesn’t want to be held accountable for in case this all goes tits up.”
“In case?” Callum snickers. “Do you really think we can go on like this for much longer? We need those people they’re rounding up.”
“I stay away from politics as much as I can.”
“Except to run guns from Texas to Boston.”
“That’s about money.”
“You could sell guns to the government. To mercenaries. To whoever the fuck you wanted. So don’t bullshit me.”
“Fine. I’m coming to you because I can’t go to my people and… they can’t know that I spoke to you about more than the guns.”
“Did we talk about more than guns?” Callum asks with the calm, steady voice of someone well accustomed to conducting mob business.
“I need my ex-wife…”
“Deported?”
I was thinking more departed… I maintain firm, steady eye contact with Callum Murray as we both enter a very dangerous
“I need her out of the way and I know the Shaw boys couldn’t order something like that done.”
“We know they couldn’t,” Callum says, staring straight ahead with a gaze that I can’t read. His hand goes to his beard and he narrows his eyes.
“If you give her incentives to leave,” he suggests. “Might that work on her?”
“It would work if I knew what she wanted aside from making me suffer.”
“Perhaps you give her that – your suffering.”
The Murray boys can be difficult to get along with.
East Coast folks are colder with a dry sense of humor that makes it difficult to tell when they’re being serious.
I want to hope that this time he isn’t terribly serious about how much he wants me to suffer.
But there’s nothing that cracks on his face.
He has a big scar across his cheek, which makes the stitched-together face even more difficult to read.
“How would she have that?”
“I don’t know her,” Callum says. “But… I understand what you mean about personal problems. I’ve been there and if there’s any way to help… I wouldn’t mind keeping it discreet.”
“Thanks.”
“Yeah,” Callum says. “Aiden has been talking for a while about employing our Irish cousins – they’re landing from Belfast this summer.”
“Can they work?”
Callum smirks and nods. “Yeah.”
We talk business for fifteen more minutes before a funny expression crosses Callum’s face. I wonder if he’s thinking about Onika and Gabby. I assumed they would wait downstairs or outside, so I didn’t think much of this pastry errand extending far past what was necessary.
“They’re taking too long.”
“I thought so.”
“I’ll text Onika.”
He sends a text message.
“Your sister-in-law works for you?”
“Yes. We started taking on interns recently… Rian’s wife went to Harvard and started working as one of our au pairs and Aiden thought we could have a more constructive influence on women in college than we have in the past…”
“I guess I see his point.”
“Should we check on them?” I add, barely pausing. The need to see Gabby presses on me already. Maybe it was foolish to let her out of my sight.
“Sure,” Callum says. “But our property is secure, I can assure–”
Callum’s office door swings open and slams hard against the wall. BANG!
A tall man with dark brown hair and piercing green eyes yells at him, “Sir, we have a problem.”
Callum’s hand rushes to his jacket. “What problem?”
“Some crazy red-headed bitch just shot through the front glass and grabbed Onika and the other hot chick,” he says in a thick accent that I can finally place as Irish. I’m not too familiar with the differences between their accents, but this man is not American.
The red-headed bitch on the other hand?
I suspect we both know exactly who she is…
Callum and I exchange knowing looks. There’s no need for words anymore. We follow the man I presume is Callum’s Irish cousin out of the room, and the search for Tylee continues.
And more importantly – Gabby. The woman I want to keep.