8. Declan
DECLAN
Fuck!
I’m officially broken. After talking to Ewen two weeks ago, my head hasn’t been the same. Yes, I still watch him, think of him, lust for him, but this is different than before. I feel like a junkie trying to quit. And I can’t.
He made it sound so easy. Just turn myself in. Yeah, that’s never going to happen.
I was so frazzled by him and all his prayer bullshit that I might have gone a little off the deep end.
Ciaran had informed me of the Bianchis’ drug deals encroaching on our territory, and I may have slaughtered the dealer like a mad man.
Possibly even burned his dead body and left him in the same alleyway.
Our alleyway.
For the same reason I did years ago, they’re getting greedy again. It was a yet another sign for them to step the fuck back.
This side of town has and will always belong to the O’Sullivan clan. We founded the rules. We regulate what happens and we control this area.
The Irish, not the fucking Italians. They need to learn their place. We don’t go to their area or cause issues for them. Just because our territories border one another doesn’t mean we can’t get along.
But they get greedy and want everything. We don't care if they have businesses close to the borders, we all do. But they can't expect us to keep quiet when they cross into our territory and take our girls, drugs, and guns. Our space, our business.
“What’s up with you?” Ciaran asks.
He called me an hour ago to see if I wanted to grab lunch with him. This was normal. He was the face of the organization. I was the secret.
I wipe my mouth, then throw the napkin on the table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ha! You’re the craftiest person I know. You’re my brother. I know when something’s off with you. Finally find some pussy to get all worked up over?” He sets down his fork and stares at me.
He isn’t my biological brother but we were raised as brothers, and I’d die for him. Hell, I kill for him all the time. Ciaran, Fiona, and I are all close.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the fog of Ewen’s words that continue to haunt me. “It’s definitely not pussy that’s got me worked up.”
“So, you found a dick you want?” He cocks his brow at me.
I don’t need to confirm it. They’ve always known I’ll fuck anything living, or at least I used to. I haven’t fucked anyone since Ewen moved back to Boston.
Maybe that’s my issue. I need to get laid.
But I don’t think that’s it. I don’t want to just get laid. I want my fallen angel.
“I’m just trying to process some shit. There isn’t a way for us to be anything.
” I sound like a child who’s lost his favorite toy.
I’ve always known there would never be anything between Ewen and I.
I’ve accepted it, but when he talked to me, saying his stupid bullshit about right and wrong, I let it affect me.
Ciaran leans across the table and grabs my forearm in a brotherly embrace.
I look at him. “If this guy can’t see who you are, then he doesn’t deserve you.
I know you. I know you don’t catch feelings.
Hell, I’ve never seen you in anything close to a relationship since Margo and that shit was over a decade ago.
” He squeezes my arm before pulling back.
“You never have to put up with any of that. You’re an O’Sullivan and we fucking run this city.
Fuck, I’ll even get my hands dirty if they hurt you. ”
I smile at that. Ciaran has never gotten his hands dirty, at least not directly. That’s why he has me. I have and will always be the one to do it. I enjoy it.
“Ciar, don’t let Gramps or Dad hear you say that.”
“Gramps is so far removed from the world, he’s lucky he still remembers us. And Dad would understand. He loves you just as fiercely as I do. Now, let’s move past this inner bull. You’re better than that. I’ve heard some interesting information about Geno recently.”
That pulls my interest. Geno is the future leader of the Bianchis. Their father Frank currently holds that title. “Oh, do tell. You have my full attention.”
He smirks. “I knew that would work.”
Ciaran looks around, checking to see if anyone is paying attention to us. They’re not. We’re in the center of our territory. Everyone here either respects us or fears us, which means nobody would eavesdrop.
“A source has said that he knocked up one of his girls. Barely of age. And that he plans on marrying her. I guess Frank is livid. From everything we know he was already set up in an arranged marriage. You know Frank and those old thugs love making those arrangements,” he leans in, “and he told Frank he wants out of the family business.”
Well, that’s some fucking news. The Bianchis are very similar to our family in hierarchy.
Usually if you head the organization and have a son, it’s assumed they’ll follow in the father’s footsteps.
It’s how we keep from getting caught and thrown into prison.
For an heir to give that up, it’s not common.
We’re in this world for life. Family first and foremost.
“No way Frank will accept that. He hates his other son. Geno was the one groomed to take over.”
He shakes his head and picks up his fork and knife, cutting into his steak. “Trust me, I know all this. I guess Enzo is determined to make daddy proud. I think that’s why they’ve been trying to move into our area. He’s trying to prove to Frank he can do it.”
I never thought of things from this angle. Enzo was never more than a joke in our world. He always aspired to be more to his father and crew, but Frank made it clear he only wanted Geno—not Enzo—to succeed him.
“I’ll have to keep my eyes on him. He used to run his mouth a lot, but I thought that the stabbing I gave him back in high school would shut him up. I’m also curious how I haven’t heard any of this from the yappers in the bar. The street boys always know the gossip.”
“Oh, my information isn’t well known by anyone outside of the immediate family. No way Frank wants the knowledge out there.”
That gets my attention. “So, how do you know this?”
He gives me his evil smile.
“Oh no way! You’re fucking Teresa again,” I say, laughing.
Teresa is Frank Bianchi’s precious daughter.
Similar to Fiona, she’s kept from the dark underbelly of our world.
But, unlike Fiona, Teresa’s most definitely arranged to be married to some crime family in Chicago. Just like all the important Bianchis.
From what I knew Ciaran ended things with Teresa a while ago, saying it was nothing more than a summer fuck.
“Oh, I did fuck her again. And yes, that’s where the information came from. She hates her family. It’s why she comes to me. She thinks hooking up with her family’s rival will cause some inner drama and the arranged marriage will be called off.”
“Ciaran, that’s a risky fucking avenue to go down,” I warn. I’m the one who does stupid shit, not him.
The waitress brings our check over, flirting with both of us and probably hoping to get somewhere in this city.
Being on Ciaran’s arm would make her a queen.
Ciaran enjoys flirting too much to ever settle down.
Hell, until recently, I didn’t think either of us would stop sleeping our way around Boston.
We ignore her advances. She’s a cute girl, but exactly that, a girl. We’re in our thirties and unlike Geno, we don’t go for them barely legal.
Ciaran throws a hundred into the check book, then stands and buttons his jacket. He’s always in a suit. I, on the other hand, prefer a basic outfit. Jeans, a shirt of some form, and my boots. Suits aren’t the best for working the bar or my second job.
“Just keep an ear out for anything that might be of importance. I have a feeling it’s only a matter of time before this knowledge starts to spread through town.
You know once our guys get wind of it, they’ll be flapping their lips about it.
They all want the Bianchis gone.” Ciaran gives me a stern look.
I know it’s because I’m still sitting but I haven’t finished my lunch.
“Don’t go off the rails before I give any orders.
You can be a little heavy handed when you’re impulsive. ”
That makes me chuckle. He knows me.
Fuck this. I don’t need to be here anymore either so I stand and follow Ciaran out of the restaurant. There’s a car waiting for him already. The driver’s job is to be where Ciar needs him at all times.
“You want a ride?” he asks while opening the back door.
I shake my head. “Nah, I’m going to catch the T back to the bar. I have a detour to make before opening.” A detour to check on my angel so I can get my daily fix.
He steps toward me and pulls me into a hug. “Take care brother. We’ll get together soon. Tell Fi that Mom misses her and she needs to go visit.”
Our bro hug doesn’t last long, and as we break apart I agree to relay the message to my sister. There’s a little more pep in my step after talking to Ciaran. He helped get my mind off the shit Ewen said.
I jog down the street to the T, ready to see Ewen again.