Chapter Nine
T imothy, aside from Seamus, was one of my most trusted men, and was making his way over to me.
He had the slightest limp in his left leg, from a stab wound a Chinese smuggler gave him a few years back when they’d tried to take over part of our warehouses for their drug and human trafficking business.
The limp was barely noticeable, but I’d known Timothy all my life.
He was nearing fifty and had become even more stoic since the attack, though he’d never been a very talkative man. “Lorcan, there you are.”
“Here I am,” I said as I climbed out of my Land Rover.
From the tight set of Timothy’s mouth and the deep furrows of his forehead I knew something was up.
“Problems?” I asked, following him past our smaller warehouse and several containers, which hopefully held our shipment of some of the best opium money could buy along the old Silk Road.
Business was still flourishing, just not from legal avenues.
“One of the dock workers tried to steal from us,” Timothy explained as we entered our main warehouse where a few of my guys were taking stock of the new containers while Seamus glared down at a middle-aged man I didn’t recognize.
The harbor area was vast and workers changed all the time.
Most of them, even the new ones, knew to stay away from our shipments.
Seamus nodded at me. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to deal with him yourself. You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I was busy.”
Seamus let out a quiet sigh, again showing his disapproval.
“I’m here now,” I said. The asshole always found a way to make me feel like a fucking school-boy in need of reprimanding. That was the trouble with friends and older brothers. I had left Balor’s presence behind in Ireland. Maybe I should give up on the concept of friends as well.
The dock worker peered up at me like a puppy begging for a treat. If he was looking for empathy, he would be disappointed. Considering his busted lip and swollen eye, Seamus or whoever had caught the asshole in the act, had already given him a very slight taste of what was still to come.
“Where’s Rody?”
“Over there,” Seamus said with a sly grin as he gestured to my favorite iron rod, which had traveled with me for the last ten years and had given many traitors, thieves, and people who annoyed the fuck out of me a last farewell.
I brought two fingers to my mouth and whistled sharply, grabbing the attention of Nollaig and Riordan, our newest additions from Ireland. Riordan gave me a crooked smile.
“Bring me Rody.”
He looked around, trying to figure out which lad I meant.
“Not the brightest candle on the cake, eh?” Seamus laughed dryly.
I shook my head. I was in an exceptionally good mood thanks to my meeting with Aislinn, so I only cocked an eyebrow and didn’t punch some wisdom into the kid.
Timothy stalked over to the two boys, who looked about ready to bolt.
“Did you recruit them from the church choir? Why are these two like fucking newborn lambs?”
“They can throw a punch, don’t worry. They’re only seventeen. First time away from home. They’ll grow into it, and they’re in awe of the infamous Lorcan Devaney.”
Timothy hit them both over the back of the head and grabbed my iron rod.
Nollaig snickered. “Rody. Cool name.”
I gave the two boys a look that had him and the other kid scuttling back inside the container.
“Were we like this once?” Seamus asked.
“Far from it,” Timothy muttered as he handed me my Rody .
The worker at my feet stared up at me in horror. “Your turn’s soon enough,” I told him.
“What are you waiting for, Lorcan?”
“We’re expecting visitors at seven. I want them to witness Rody’s talents.”
Timothy glanced between me and Seamus with a puzzled look then seemed to decide he didn’t want to be involved and stalked over to where a forklift brought in a smaller container.
“Let me guess, the Killeen girl?”
“And Gulliver. I feel like he needs reminding of who’s boss on this side of the clouds.”
Seamus looked at me for a few heartbeats. “You’re going to do something that’s going to make your father really unhappy.”
“That’s my job, Seamus. But I’m bringing justice to our clan.”
“Don’t tell me you’re—”
“…going to marry a Killeen, in good family tradition, only she won’t be running off.”
“How did you get her to agree? Did you blackmail her? Or did you promise her something in turn?”
“She hasn’t said yes yet but I’m sure she will tonight.”
Seamus shook his head with a chuckle. He nudged his steel-toed boot against the dock worker. “Not a good day to be on Lorcan’s bad side.”
My eyes roamed over to one of the steel chains we used to position crates inside the containers. “Rody might not get his turn today. I feel like drawing the show out a little for my future wife.”
Since Uncle Gulliver didn’t have a car, we took a taxi and arrived at the docks around quarter to seven.
A cool breeze carried over from the Hudson as we got out of the car, the scent of ship fuel dominated the air.
But I missed the familiar lively scent of the Liffey.
Dublin’s harbor wasn’t a place where I had ever felt comfortable, but this right here, with the skyscrapers and the nervous energy of the too-big city made me want to take flight.
A jungle of shipping containers cast their shadows upon us.
I rubbed my arms. It was colder than expected.
I should have packed a jacket, but I’d already fretted far too long over what to wear for the occasion.
Which outfit said “no thank you”? Gulliver had taken the decision off my hands.
He insisted I wear a dress and since I had only packed one, I didn’t have a choice. This was becoming a theme in my life.
I wore my church dress again and a cardigan over it for more coverage. I felt good in the outfit, comfortable, and considering that Lorcan would be doing his best to unsettle me, feeling confident was of utmost importance. I would stand by my decision.
Uncle Gulliver led me toward a warehouse at the very end of the dock.
He became tenser the closer we got to the two men standing guard in front of the wide steel door.
Both of them carried machine guns and had tattoos of clovers, Gaelic crosses, and Gaelic quotes all over their exposed bulging arms.
They nodded at Gulliver and barely glanced my way before opening the door.
The air was colder inside the warehouse, which seemed impossible.
More men walked around inside, carrying wooden crates or stuffing bags with white powder into other crates.
I quickly looked away. I didn’t want to know about any of this.
I wanted a normal, boring life, and once I found Imogen, I planned to return to exactly that: my old boring life in Dublin, minus Patrick.
Unfortunately, Lorcan seemed to have every intention to prevent that. I still held hope that he was only toying with me, trying to punish me with this stupid prank. Gulliver and I turned the corner of several wooden crates stacked on top of each other.
And there he was. For the first time, I saw him without a suit.
Lorcan Devaney was a beast of a man, and today he looked it even more.
No other words would have done him justice.
He was tall, almost two meters, with dark-brown hair and sideburns, and a rough five-o’clock shadow on his cheeks and chin.
He had the keen eyes of a hunting dog. I’d once seen a pack of them on the fox hunt in the Irish countryside.
They had been out for blood, with only one focus in mind: to find and kill the fox.
Lorcan was wearing a white wifebeater, revealing muscled arms and dark chest hair.
In his big hands he held a massive steel chain. It dragged over the ground beside his weathered, brown boots with a harsh rattle, raising the little hairs on my neck. Every clank created more goose bumps on my skin. My palms became sweaty.
He didn’t bother looking my way, but I knew he noticed my entrance. Lorcan wasn’t a man who missed anything going on around him. This was a show for me. I had no doubt about it.
He stopped in front of a man who was held by two other men; one of them was Seamus, my driver from last night.
The other was a sturdy middle-aged man with a shaved head—gorilla guy from church.
They released their captive and he folded his hands.
I wasn’t sure if he was praying to God or begging Lorcan Devaney.
Whichever it was, it didn’t have the intended effect.
My eyes widened in shock when Lorcan swung the steel chain in an impressive arch and hit the man with it.
The man cried out as the chain made impact with his knee, a high-pitched scream not unlike the fox being torn apart by the pack.
I took a step back, but my uncle gripped my shoulders, keeping me in place.
“Watch closely, Aislinn. Maybe now you realize what you’re up against and why you need to say yes to Lorcan Devaney.
I’m praying for the lost soul in front of us, like I’ve been doing for you ever since you appeared on my doorstep. ”
Bile traveled up my throat as Lorcan smashed the chain down on his victim over and over again.
Soon his wifebeater was sprinkled with blood and pieces of flesh, which stuck to the chain and splattered everywhere.
Hot tears pooled down my cheeks, and I battled with the worst nausea of my life.
I dug my nails into my palms in an attempt to stop myself from vomiting.
Was this all because of me? Had he picked a victim so he could give me a show that would terrify me?
Even without marrying Lorcan Devaney, there was already blood on my hands.
After what felt like eternity, Lorcan let up from the unmoving man and his gaze settled on us.