Chapter 38
Killian
I’m sitting in the monitoring station, watching the girls at the bar.
I’ve already sent Pat to warn off two men who were eyeing them with too much interest. Sam is laughing at something Sloane just said.
I feel a smile tug at my own mouth. It’s good to see her laugh.
It lights up her whole face. Feckin’ hell, she’s beautiful.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I reluctantly pull my gaze from Sam as I dig it out and look at the screen. Da. Finally returning my call.
“Hey, Son.”
“Da. How we gettin’ on?”
“Grand. We got the east side deal settled this week.”
My gaze drifts back to Sam. She’s reaching for one of the crackers. I grunt in satisfaction. I don’t know why, but taking care of her feels better than anything I’ve ever done in my life. “Fair play.”
“And Bran has asked Maeve to marry him finally. She wants a summer weddin’.”
“Bet Mam is happy, yeah.” Maeve is the Boston boss’s eldest daughter. They’ve been getting to know each other long distance for six years.
“She’s already plannin’ for the grandbabies.” His deep chuckle comes through the line. Then a sigh. “So, what’s goin’ on in Florida? Problem with The Lucky Sinner?”
I glance at the monitor that shows Rona sleeping peacefully in my bedroom, her tiny arms wrapped around a stuffed bear. A fierce protectiveness rises up in me. “How do ya feel about goin’ to war with the Amato family in New York?”
There’s a beat of silence and then Da chuckles. “This about Dr. Sam, yeah?”
I pull the phone from my ear and stare at it, then shake my head. “How the bloody hell did ya know that?”
A long sigh comes over the line. “Wars start over money, power and women, Son. And you don’t have a power or money problem. So, what’s goin’ on?”
I lean back in the chair and rub the St. Michael’s medallion that used to be my granda’s.
“Sam has a daughter. Her name’s Rona and she’s two.
Conceived through rape by this cocksucker named Michael Barone in New York.
” I tell him the whole story, including Barone’s value to the Amatos, and by the time I’m done my blood pressure is through the roof again, and I’m ready to go hunt down this arsehole myself and put a bullet in his brain.
I can hear the cold rage in Da’s voice, too, when he finally speaks. “That can’t stand.” His breathing is hard against the phone. “How can I help?”
Relief unknots my neck and shoulders. “Remember that Ronnie Dunn cunt who you helped out a few years back when he got in trouble with the Cobras?”
“Aye.”
“You were right, he can be useful. I looked him up. He’s in the New York office now. TOC division. I need a sit down with him as soon as you can set it up.”
There’s silence. “I can arrange it. But Son… you have to play this smart. It can’t come back on ya.”
Having him point out the danger makes it more real, but that’s the only thing it changes. “Aye, I know.”
There’s a shuffle over the phone. “Does this mean you’ve finally taken my advice about Sam?”
I massage my pounding temples. “I guess it does, yeah.”
He laughs quietly. “She’s a good lass. Take care of her and the wee one. I’ll text you in the mornin’.”
“Grand. Night then.” I crack my neck. I’ve been sleeping in the office off the dancers’ room while Sam and Rona stay in my bedroom. The cot is leaving knots in my body the size of bleedin’ golf balls. Worth it to keep them safe, though.
I have a hundred things to do, but I go back to watching Sam on the monitor. Her chin tilts up, and she smiles into the camera like she can feel my eyes on her. Something warm stirs in my chest. Cheeky little vixen. I stand. I’ve given her enough space.
***
The next evening, my mood is deadly as I pack a small overnight bag. Sam brushes Rona’s hair and watches me with a worried gaze as I emerge from the bathroom. “You promise you’re not putting yourself in danger?” she finally asks.
My brows rise with amusement. I want to ask her if she knows what I do for a living, but I guess she just means putting myself in harm’s way for her. I pause beside her, lift her chin. “I’ll not be in danger, love. Just a meeting with a friend. And I’m takin’ Shay with me to watch my back.”
Okay, friend is a stretch. “I’ll explain everythin’ when I get back and know my plan is solid.
” My plan is to make it look like Barone is cooperating with the Feds.
That way, Amato won’t mind when I take him out, and I’ll avoid starting a feckin’ war.
At least, that’s the hope. “You and Rona will be safe here, and I’ll be back tomorrow evenin’. ”
We fly into Teterboro Airport from Davis Island on Sandro’s Cirrus, the fuckin’ Ferrari of single engine planes. One thing you have to admire about the Italians is the way they choose to move through life in style.
After we check in to the hotel, we have a few hours to kill.
“Lunch and a pint?” Shay asks.
“Why not.” We head into New York City. I haven’t been here in a few years.
The sun is fierce, glaring off the glass skyscrapers, but the fall air is cool and laced with the smell of exhaust, fried food and a faint trace of the East River. Shay and I being able to comfortably wear a suit jacket is convenient to hide the Glocks we’re carrying in shoulder holsters.
As we navigate the crowd on 3rd Avenue, I fantasize about hailing a cab and showing up at the hospital. Looking that Barone cocksucker in the eyes when I put a bullet in his skull.
The devil on my shoulder likes this idea, the devil on the other shoulder reminds me to stick to the feckin’ plan.
We reach Molly’s, an authentic Irish Pub and Restaurant that Da turned us onto when we visited a few summers ago.
I can already taste their Shepherd’s Pie.
Almost as good as Mam’s. I immediately relax as we step into the dim, cool pub, with its warn wood bench tables, brick walls and mouth-watering smells.
We take a seat at the bar and order a Guiness, then I check in with Sam.
Me: How ya getting on
Sam: Who’s this?
I raise a brow and my nostrils flare. What the fuck?
Then…
Sam: Kidding. Calm down, Irish. All good. Lennon is here hanging in the pool with Rona while I work with the girls.
Me: Cheeky, love. Be safe. I’ll check in later
I shake my head but catch myself smiling. Picking up the Guiness, I take a sip and text Pat to make sure he’s keeping on top of the security. If Barone’s goons are watching her, they know I left this morning.
An uneasiness creeps up my spine. I glance around but don’t see anyone who should get my hackles up. The sooner I can get back to Sam, the better. Being away from her for even one bleedin’ day is turning out to be harder than expected. I think I’m fuckin’ addicted to the lass.
“Everythin’ good?” Shay raises a brow at my sudden alertness and glances at my phone.
“Grand.” I take a swig of the Guiness.
Two women enter and sit down at the bar next to us. They look like tourists with their tans and bleached blonde hair and are too friendly for my liking. Shay chats ‘em up though, and I overhear them say they’re visiting from South Carolina. I tune out and check my emails.
While I’m working on my Shepherd’s Pie, I feel one of the women slide onto the stool next to me, her too-sweet perfume tickling my nose.
I swing my gaze to her, still chewing.
She holds out a hand with pink polish and gold bracelets. “I’m Lyla, and you are?”
I ignore her hand. “Enjoyin’ my lunch.” I go back to eating and scrolling on my phone. I feel an elbow poke in my ribs and turn a sharp gaze on Shay.
“Be nice,” he whispers through his teeth.
I narrow my eyes. “We’re not here to make friends.” I glance around him to the now glassy-eyed woman who’s got her tits resting up against Shay’s arm. Then I give Shay a cold glare, my voice low enough for only him to hear. “Get rid of her or I will, yeah.”
He sighs. “You can be a real fuckin’ cunt, you know.” After he gets the women to leave, I can feel him eyeing me.
“What?” I ask without looking up from my phone.
“This thing with Dr. Sam… it’s serious, yeah?”
I turn to look at him. He’s not pissed anymore, just curious. So I decide to answer him. “Aye.”
He grins then and pats me on the back. “About time, brother.”