Butcher (The O’Sheas Fitheach #4)

PROLOGUE

ANDY

“You’re a fecking disgrace Andy,” Johnny fumes. Internally I wince, but I don’t let that show on my face. Instead, I keep my expression blank. I don’t want him to know how much his anger hurts me, even though I don’t blame him for feeling like he does.

Ever since Rhett got taken down and he and Noni split, it feels like my whole life has been falling apart.

Da’s been broken since my mam died and he seemed to fold in on himself when Rhett was taken.

I’ve been left floundering ever since. Rhett was the one I went to when I had a problem, and Noni was the one who was there for me through teenage break-ups and everything else that came with being a teenager.

It was as if, when Rhett was sentenced and put in prison, all our lives derailed.

Instead of dealing with it like I should have, I'd shamed my family by attacking Noni when I should have kept my mouth shut. I knew why they’d sent me to Uncle Sean, Da’s youngest brother.

They wanted me to see what it was like to be running guns, and the danger that came with it. It was no secret that I’d been sheltered when my brothers hadn’t.

I’d always felt like I wasn’t really part of them. They had the scars to prove themselves as O’Sheas, whereas I was the one on the outside looking in—an O’Shea brother, but not. Not really. I was the youngest, and for some reason, I’d been kept away from running guns.

Oh, don’t get me wrong I could shoot, and I could do everything my brothers did. But anything tied to the business, I was kept out of. There was no place for me in the family trade.

I’d been relieved when I’d been sent away but my destructive behaviour came with me, and I’d fucked up yet again. I couldn’t seem to help myself.

In the corner of my hospital room, Uncle Sean stood quietly watching as Johnny lost his temper with me.

I tuned Johnny out; it was nothing he’d not said to me before.

Instead I kept my eyes on Uncle Sean, who stared back at me with a grim look and how disappointed he was with me written clear as day over every exhausted line on his face.

He’d come straight to the hospital when they’d called, and I know he hadn’t left.

His disappointment hurt more than Johnny shouting at me.

Uncle Sean had done everything he could to bring me into the fold.

He’d always treated me as if I was one of his own children.

He was the youngest of his siblings, and he’d understood me from the start.

I’d never had to explain how I felt to him; he just seemed to know.

Blinking, I broke our stare and tuned back into Johnny’s ranting.

“I had to leave the woman I’m going to make mine to come and sort your shit out, Andy.

I’m done.” Johnny lowered his head, rubbing a hand over his face before he lifted his head again and looked at me.

We have similar colouring, and you can clearly see we are brothers but other than that, I feel nothing when I stare back at him.

“We’re done, Andy,” Johnny speaks, softer this time, and I can see that even though he’s angry with me, he’s hurt too. A sinking feeling comes over me, and I know I won’t like what he has to say. Not that I’ll let him know that.

“I can’t keep coming to bail you out. Uncle Sean can’t keep bailing you out. You have to take some responsibility.” Johnny rests his hands on his hips. His look of disappointment hits me hard.

“We spoiled you and shouldn’t have. Liam, Adam, and I take full responsibility for that.

I’m sure that Rhett would agree with us.

I know for a fact that Da does. Speaking of Da, you break his heart a little more every day when you pull shit like this.

” The thought of my Da hurting isn’t one I like but I can’t seem to stop myself from being a dipshit.

“We’re washing our hands of you. I’ll pay off the family whose car you stole for a joy ride and make it right, but after this you are on your own.

It’s up to Uncle Sean if he wants to keep you on or send you on your way.

But from us, until you show that you’ve grown up and can take responsibility for the way you act, we're done.”

I don’t reply, I just keep my gaze on him until he sighs and turns towards Uncle Sean.

“He’s all yours until you say he isn’t.”

And just like that, my brother walks out the door of my hospital room.

I had no idea it would be close to twelve years before we made amends. If I’d known it would be that long, I may have called him back, but I didn’t.

“He’s right lad,” Uncle Sean says, moving away from the wall he’d been leaning against and sitting in the chair next to my bed. “None of us can keep you around the way you behave. It brings attention to us that we don’t need.”

It’s those words that break through to me. I’m not sure why I didn’t think about what my behaviour could cost us if the garda came around.

“Fecking hell,” I mutter and bounce my head against my pillows before turning to my uncle. “I’m sorry, Uncle Sean.”

He nods and pats my leg. “You have six weeks to think about what you want to do with your life, lad. Six weeks until your leg heals. Think hard. Show me that you can be trusted, and you’ll always have a home here.

No more chances though.” He holds my gaze, and I see he’s serious.

“I know you have it in you to be a good man, lad. A good man who sometimes does bad things, but deep down you’re a good man that’s lost his way.

You’re an O'Shea, find your way back and prove us all wrong. Prove that you can be the man we know you can be.”

He pats my leg one more time and stands up. “I’ll let your aunt know she can come visit. I’ll see you later.”

Tapping his fist to my bed, he turns and walks out the door.

“Shite,” I whisper, my throat tight with emotion as I press my head into the lumpy hospital pillow. Ignoring the ache in my leg and the lump in my throat, I close my eyes and do what my uncle says. I think about what I want from life.

Do I want to continue being a disappointment? No. It’s not like I set out to be one but somehow, it’s what I’ve become.

Six weeks was a long time to think, and I had little else to do. My cousins and the rest of the crew were giving me a wide berth. It’s not like I didn’t deserve it; I did. I put their lives and livelihood in jeopardy by behaving like an arse.

The only ones that treated me the same were my uncle and aunt, and for that I was grateful.

When my six weeks were up, I worked my arse off to show that I could be trusted. I took all the shite jobs, the ones that nobody else wanted, the dangerous ones and I did them with a smile on my face.

I’d watched my brothers over the years. They may not have known it, but I watched, and I learned.

I grew my contacts until I knew everyone that would be of use to us.

I learned to fight, and to come out on top.

I learned how to clean a scene so that you’d never know that a drop of blood had been spilled.

There was nothing I couldn’t do if I put my mind to it.

You needed a cleaner—I volunteered.

You needed a driver for a risky delivery—I was first in line.

You needed an enforcer to break some skulls—I was your man.

You needed someone to broker a deal in our area—you called me.

It took me years, but eventually I worked my way to the top and gained the respect from not just my cousins, but our men too. Not that I’d allow any of my family to tell my brothers or my Da that.

This was for me, not for them.

We were a stubborn bunch, us O’Shea’s.

I’d slipped into my side hustle by accident but once I started, I found I couldn’t stop. If I did, who else would take out the trash?

Killing people doesn’t make you a bad guy.

Not if they deserve it.

And they all did deserve it. I made sure of that before I took the job.

One of those jobs took me to a bad part of town, and that’s where I saw her.

The one who would change me, who’d make me a better man, if only she wasn’t already with another motherfucker.

I’d have kept my distance if it wasn’t for the fact that I knew he was bad news. I’d wait and I’d watch, because men like him always got cocky. He’d eventually piss off the wrong man.

I was a patient man.

I’d learned to be.

Eventually she’d be mine.