Cathal Chapter 17 #3
There was the barest flicker of an eyelid on Baldie, but it was enough, if you watched micro-expressions, to see that Alistair scored. It was a tell. These attacks were personal. Now, to find out who and why.
“So, you’re not weak, you said. I guess that means you won’t spill what you know without pain and bloodshed,” I remarked.
No answer. Gesturing to us, Alistair led the guards and us further away, where Baldie wouldn’t hear what was said, allowing us to speak freely.
“Not sure yet how big of a badass he really is, but we need to break him. Now, I know everyone would like to work out their frustration. I don’t blame you.
However, I’d like to take the lead on this, with Cathal as my second.
It’s nothing personal, just the fact that this is family and Hound business for me, and we all know it’s definitely personal for Cathal due to Bronagh.
We need to know who we’re going up against and how well they’re prepared. Does anyone disagree?”
Everyone murmured no.
“Good. Well, first, the groom needs to be prepared to get dirty. Glad you left the tux at home. He’s not worth messing it up,” Alistair grinned at me.
“I’ll follow your lead, Alistair. As long as we get what we need to protect all of us, and I get to work off a bit of my anger, I’m good,” I assured him.
“I figured as much. Alright, let’s get the real party started. We wanna get you home to celebrate your honeymoon,” my brother-in-law said.
When our huddle broke, the others all stayed back and formed an uneven line between us and the back of the cabin.
Alistair walked to stand three feet in front of Baldie.
Our lead Hound twisted his neck, making it crack loudly.
Then, he stretched his arms up and behind his head and bent at his waist, as if warming himself up.
It was for show. Alistair needed no warm-up to fuck this guy up.
I’d seen him strike like a cobra plenty of times.
What he was doing was trying to see if he could irritate Baldie and elicit a response with his display. The longer the prisoner stayed silent and ignored Alistair, the more likely it was that he’d be tougher to crack.
I glanced at my watch and waited. It took six minutes and forty-nine seconds for him to break. Baldie glared at Alistair, rather than stare sightlessly at the darkness.
“Are you going to peacock all damn night? Is that all you fucking O’Sheerans know how to do? Christ, you make me sick,” he said, disgusted.
“Almost seven minutes, not bad. He’ll crack fairly soon,” I commented.
We’d done enough of these things over the years together to know how to push captives and work them. It wasn’t always physical that broke them. Psychology played a role. My brother and cousins chuckled.
“You think I’m scared of a bunch of rich assholes who have never done more than look good and spend money?
Your granddad might’ve been tough. Your fathers at one point might’ve been, but you’re all soft.
You’re ready to be picked off so real men can take over.
They’ll make things great again,” Baldie sneered. Contempt poured off him.
“I don’t know about you, but I feel we’ve been challenged, Cathal. I say we stop fucking around and get down to business. He knows what we want to know. He heard us ask those two. I want to jump straight to pain,” Alistair said.
“I thought you’d never ask,” was my reply.
That’s when I peeled off the T-shirt I’d worn. Leaving me in a pair of faded jeans with holes in them and a pair of old boots. If either got too bloody, I wouldn’t care if they had to be burned. Alistair was similarly dressed. He removed his shirt, too.
Both of us were muscular men. It was clear we worked out, but not just in the gym. We kept fit through sparring and martial arts practice. Alistair was not only the one who trained his Hounds, but also the one who put all our bodyguards, enforcers, and soldiers through their paces.
I had a leaner body than Alistair’s bulkier one.
And he had tattoos covering most of his chest, arms, and back.
However, we were both strong and capable of inflicting punishment.
A thrill moved through my body. I wanted to make this guy spill his secrets while I worked off the anger that anyone would try to hurt my family or wife.
Alistair’s wife, everyone he considered his family, including his one-year-old daughter, Sheena, had been in the compound. Anyone fucking with Aisling and Sheena, he’d decimate. His love for them was without bounds. He’d killed to protect Aisling before, and he’d gladly do it again.
My brother Shane, our cousins here, and everyone back at the commune would do the same. Family meant something to O’Sheerans. You went after us, and we would respond and bring down hell.
“Someone get the tape. We want to warm up. No need to tear up our knuckles while we do it,” I said.
Daniel came to us holding the tape boxers and some martial artists use when they punch the bag or spar. He taped my hands efficiently, then my brother-in-law’s. I flexed my hands to make sure I could make a good fist. I could. I gave Alistair a chin lift. I was ready.