29. Connor
CONNOR
Igrunt in discomfort as Angie gingerly changes my bandage. She swats at my shoulder and chides me when I flinch. “Don’t be such a baby.”
“Your hands are cold.”
“Liar.” She kisses my shoulder and lets out a breath. “It’s already looking better. But these bruises—“ Her fingers graze over my back and she sucks air through her teeth.
“They’ll be fine, angel. Better those than dead.” After the fighting, after we escaped from Malba and ended up in another of my safe houses tucked deep in Brooklyn, a doctor tended to everyone and made it very clear that my bulletproof vest saved my life.
Like I needed him to explain that.
“Stay still.” She covers over the stitched-closed bullet wound and tapes the gauze down. “Almost done. There you go.” Another kiss to seal it. “How’s that feel?”
“Fine.” I stand and tug my shirt back on. Angie watches, trying not to seem worried. I stoop to kiss her. “Honestly, angel, I’m doing fine.”
“It’s only been a few days. Nobody’s fine in here.” Her eyes cut to the door. Beyond it, everyone’s crammed into a ten-room townhouse.
I sit beside her at the edge of the bed and take her hands in mine. “You want to talk?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Look at me.” I tilt her chin and meet her gaze. “You went through something hard. It’s okay if you need to let some of the memories out.”
Her eyes get wet but she wipes them away. “Focus on Rowan. She needs you more than I do.”
Concern turns my stomach. My little sister hasn’t said more than three words since we landed here. She spends all her time in her room and even Danielle’s starting to admit there might be a problem.
“We’ll help her, don’t worry. She needs time to process.”
“Nobody her age should witness what she saw.” Angie shivers and rests her head against my arm. “Poor Colm. And all those bodies?—“
“It’s over now, love.”
“But is it?”
I don’t answer because we both know the truth.
The fighting hasn’t stopped. There are street battles constantly now. Marcus is running my forces, at least when I’m not there, and we’re barely containing my cousin and the Gallaghers.
But I don’t know how long that will last.
The war’s leaking into the news. Broadcasters are talking about an uptick in gang-related deaths. Even with all our money and influence, we can’t hide the endless shooting and killing, and if we don’t end this soon, things will only get worse.
“Go check on your sister.” Angie touches my cheek and kisses me. “I’ll be here.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll go see how my mother’s holding up.”
“Of everyone, I think she got through that mess the most unscathed.”
“Probably because her brain’s so fried from years of smoking weed.”
I stand but hesitate. I hate being away from Angie now. I came close to losing her and the idea of walking away is painful, but I can’t win this war while sitting on the bed. If I want her to be truly safe, if I want our child to grow up healthy?—
I have to find a way through.
I leave Angie and head down the hall. Rowan’s door is closed like always. I knock, wait, but there’s no answer. I announce that I’m coming in and open it.
Rowan’s lying on the bed. She’s got earbuds in, her feet up on the wall, head toward the door, hair splayed around her. I think she’s still in the same clothes from the day before. I move into the room until she can see me. She scowls and doesn’t take out the buds.
“Hey, I want to talk.”
She says nothing.
“I know you’re having a rough time?—“
She rolls her eyes and looks at the ceiling.
At another time, a younger version of me might’ve gotten mad at that. Instead, I crouch beside the bed and touch her wrist. She flinches away.
“When you’re ready, come talk to me or Angelina. I know you’re struggling. We’re here when you need us.”
She chews her lip and turns her head. “Thanks.”
That one word sends a shiver of relief down my spine. Rowan goes back to studying the ceiling and ignoring me, but at least she heard.
I back out of the room and pause in the hall. It’s cool and dim. I hear Dad and Danielle talking a few doors down and the sound of Dawn’s television on too loud. I lean a hand against the wall to steady myself.
All this teetered. Everything I worked for, all my blood and sweat, everything I care about, nearly gone. Deck almost took her. Deck almost stole my heart.
God damn him, fucking Deck.
My fingers curl as rage pulses in my core.
We grew up together. I looked at him like a mentor when I was younger. I know he struggled when I took over the family, but over time I managed to win him over.
When did he turn? When did he decide family meant less than dirt?
My phone buzzes. I hesitate, slipping it out, and check the screen before raising it to my ear. “I was wondering when you’d call.”
“Finding time hasn’t been easy.” Sinead’s voice is strained. She sounds almost as stressed as I feel. “I need you to know that I couldn’t stop it.”
“I find that hard to believe. You know, I’ve been asking myself. Did you call that meeting to make sure I wasn’t in the house?”
“The opposite. When I realized what was happening, I canceled so you’d go back. I’m sorry for your family, Connor.”
“I’m not sorry for what I did to your brother.”
Her voice lowers and there’s a sharp note. “I didn’t expect you to be. I’m not a fool. I understand the risks we take in this life. Fergus did what he did and now he’s gone. I won’t ever forgive you.”
“Good. I hope not.”
“But he went behind my family’s back. Him and your cousin. They’ve been working together for years, haven’t they?”
“I think so. All those payments. You know who really figured it out? My wife.”
“I’m glad you married well.” She doesn’t sound like it at all. “We need to talk about the future.”
“What can you possibly say?”
“That I can save your miserable life and spare the rest of my family in the process. Meet with me in an hour at Central Park. I’ll text you the exact location. Somewhere busy and public. Come alone.”
“Why would I trust you?”
“Because we have aligned incentives.”
She hangs up before I can question it. I linger in the quiet after and look up sharply when there’s movement nearby.
Angie’s standing a few feet away. “That was Sinead, wasn’t it?”
I think about telling her not to worry but confirm with a nod instead. “She wants to meet.”
“Are you going?”
“I don’t think there’s much of a choice.”
“How bad are things, Connor?” She comes to my side and touches my arm gently. “Tell me the truth.”
I steady myself with a breath before tugging her closer. I can’t help it. Whenever she’s near, it’s like I have to remind myself that she’s safe.
“Marcus is fighting rolling battles on the street. I’m helping where I can, but we’re barely holding onto our territory. The cops are getting involved and that means political pressure is next. This fight can’t go on for much longer. Someone’s going to break.”
She looks like she wants to ask the obvious, but instead she gets on her toes and kisses me. “If anyone can fix this, it’s going to be you.”
“Can I trust her? After what I did to her brother?”
“I don’t know, but you should hear her out.”
I breathe Angie’s smell and drop to my knees. I pull her belly to my lips and kiss her, turning to listen. I imagine I can hear my baby moving around, kicking, laughing, crying, living. I hold her tight as her fingers curl through my hair.
“Whatever it takes,” I whisper, heart thudding rapidly. “I’ll kill them all if I have to.”
“Try a conversation first.”
“You are my light. You are my future.”
“Connor—“
“I love you, Angie. I love this baby you’re carrying. It breaks me, thinking I might lose you, thinking I came this close to finally having you after all this time only to ruin it now. I won’t let it happen.”
She falls to her knees with me, hands cradling my face. “I love you too, and I promise, you won’t lose me. You won’t.”
I kiss her hard, tasting her, lingering against her mouth, thinking, maybe she’s right, maybe this won’t all go away, but it’s all I can do to keep kissing her.
I hold my forehead close to hers and we remain like that on our knees in the darkness of the hallway, our world tipping on the edge around us, but I’ve never felt more stable.
There’s a warm glow in my heart. A brightness in my chest.
Because she loves me, and I love her, and we’ll have this baby together.
First, I have a meeting to attend.
Central Park is crowded. It’s a beautiful afternoon. Buskers play music and couples walk together through the wandering tourists. I take my time, scanning every face I find for any sign of Gallaghers, but there’s nothing.
Sinead is sitting on a bench off to the side. She’s alone, legs crossed, watching everyone warily. When she spots me, her back stiffens and her face hardens.
There’s no friendship here. No softness, no love, no joy, no kindness, and I don’t blame her. I’ve done nothing but hurt this woman. I left her at the altar, started a war, killed her brother. And through it, she’s been holding everyone together.
“I’m glad you showed.” She gestures for me to sit. “Did anyone follow you?”
“No, and I’m alone.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
We lapse into silence. I try to picture what life with her could’ve been. But that’s so deeply overshadowed by my love for Angie and the way it sings in my chest. The heat that drives me.
“How do we end this?” I ask after a time. “I assume you didn’t call me here for nothing.”
Sinead’s jaw works. She keeps her eyes off me, like if she turned her head and caught my eye, she’d lose her mind.
“My father has been declining for years.” She says it like this is a fact everyone knows, but it sends a jolt down my spine. “You must’ve noticed he hasn’t been around much.”
“I was wondering.”
“Padraig Gallagher was once a strong and clever man, but he’s a shadow of himself now. Liver cancer spread to his bones. It’s a slow and ugly way to die.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We’ve come to grips with it already. Except my brothers don’t agree on who should succeed when my father inevitably dies. Fergus believed he had the right of it, and he was already making plans.”
“Did those plans involve buying my cousin?”
“I suspect so. I also suspect our arrangement was partially his doing. I believe he was going to use our marriage to usurp you via your cousin.”
I stretch my legs and look at the sunlight slanting through the trees. “Deck was cheap. That’s what keeps bothering me. I would’ve paid him more if that’s what he wanted.”
“You’ll have to talk to your cousin about his motivations. I truly don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. Fergus is dead because he schemed and went behind all our backs. Lorcan and Cillian are understandably upset, but losing Fergus creates a vacuum.”
Understanding falls over my shoulders. “You plan on filling it.”
“Someone has to take over when my father goes. This is what I propose.” She turns toward me and folds her hands in her lap.
“My father is allowed to retire and die in peace. My brother is given a good funeral. Lorcan and Cillian are allowed to continue on in the Gallagher organization. You will bring me Deck and we will hang all this blood on him. We’ll spin a story about his betrayal.
Declan Whelan will find me a new Whelan match. Do you follow?”
I scrape a hand down my chin. “You take control of your family. You marry into the Whelans. That’s a lot of power.”
“Are you going to complain?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Find me your cousin. Bring me his body. Alive or dead, it doesn’t matter. And convince Declan Whelan to honor our original deal.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“You deserve worse, you know.” She stands abruptly. Sinead Gallagher is tall and beautiful. She’s a queen, and I am deeply impressed. “If I were a spiteful woman, I’d burn you to ashes.”
“But you don’t want to risk losing another brother, and you know we’d only end up killing each other. Neither of us walks away from this stronger if we let it play out.”
“Mutually assured destruction. That’s what they say, isn’t it?”
“I’ve heard the phrase.”
“Know this.” Her hateful gaze meets mine. “We will never be friends. We will never be colleagues. We will coexist and that will be enough. Do you understand?”
“I understand. For what it’s worth, you’ll make a good boss.”
“I know. Find your cousin.”
She strides off, leaving me alone on the bench.
I stay there for a few minutes, wondering what Deck was thinking, why he put himself under Fergus like that, for something as cheap as money. It kills me, knowing my own cousin sold me out.
But there’s an end for him. There’s a fitting death coming and coming soon.