Chapter 27
Callum
Cockalorum (adj) a little man who has a high opinion
The fluorescent lights above buzzed softly, casting a cold glow over the gym’s cracked wooden floor.
They weren’t enough to light the entire gym, though.
Its corners and recesses were in shadow, and it looked eerie, liminal.
In the corner of the ring, the rhythmic thwack of my fists meeting the pads echoed through the space.
Each punch landed with sharp precision, focused and clean.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Lorcan stood in front of me, tall and solid, his arms raised, holding the focus mitts high. His breath was steady, and his eyes were locked on mine. "Keep it tight! One-two, one-two!" His voice cut through the air like a whip, his accent stronger in that moment than his everyday cadence.
I grunted and threw my punches. The impact is fast and sharp, like rapid gunshots echoing in a shootout.
Boom! A heavy punch landed on the mitts. I felt the vibration travel through my arm, followed by a grunt of exertion. My muscles were on fire, but I pushed forward. Each connection with the pad cleared more of the unwanted thoughts.
"Again!" Lorcan barked, his voice gruff and demanding.
I tightened my core, launching myself into another combination. My jab smacked into the mitts cleanly, followed by a thudding cross that made the air whoosh as the pads absorbed the power.
Pop! Smack! Wham!
My shoes squeaked against the floor as I shifted my weight, each step a staccato rhythm matched by the rapid-fire punches.
The air smells of sweat, leather, and the sting of salt on my skin.
My breath came quick and shallow, my movements swift, my body a machine working in time with the rhythm of the strikes.
Thud. Thud. Thwack.
With each punch, I heard the mitts bend under the pressure, like the snap of a taut rope. Lorcan’s grunts of encouragement fueled my pace. The punches grew faster, louder.
I was pouring sweat, my heart pounding in my chest, the rhythm of my strikes like a different heartbeat altogether in the eerie emptiness of the gym. Then, one final punch.
BOOM.
It was a deep, resonating sound that vibrated through the gloom.
I stepped back, breathing heavily, the thudding of my heartbeat ringing in my ears. The gym fell into a brief, taut silence. I couldn’t tell if it was the weight of the punch or if I was just finally feeling the burn.
“That’s enough for today,” Lorcan said over his shoulder as he stepped out of the ring to grab some water and take a moment to breathe.
“I still have more,” I said, grinning as Lorcan cut his eyes in my direction.
I can’t help but chuckle a bit. We’d been at it for hours, and I knew he was ready to leave.
Ronan was waiting for me at Charlie’s, anyway.
I stepped out of the ring and walked over to my bag, pulling out my water bottle and checking my phone to see what I missed.
My heart stopped.
A picture of Maeve.
She was in the pit with a guy twice her size.
Ronan had sent it two minutes ago. I clicked the screen a few times to dial his number, eager to get him on the phone and find out what the fuck was going on.
As it rang, I slung my gym bag over my shoulder and ran out of the gym doors.
I didn’t say goodbye to Lorcan on my exit.
My car was already running thanks to the remote start.
I slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut, tossing my bag carelessly into the backseat. I shifted into drive and peeled tires out of the gym parking lot, the backend fishtailing slightly with the force.
Ronan finally answered the call.
“Hey man, we’ve got a problem.”
“No shit,” I growled as I weaved in and out of traffic. “Why the fuck are you allowing her to stand in that ring?”
“You do know she isn’t supposed to know I’m here, right? Or did we forget that? And not to add fuel to the fire or anything, but the motherfucker had the gall to slap her ass, and I want no part of that fury,” Ronan said, slightly amused.
“Where the fuck is Orin?” I said, feeling a wave of fury wash over me.
“He’s standing on the edge of the crowd. You know he’ll step in if it’s needed.”
My grip on the steering wheel tightened reflexively. I didn’t care if he was right. She didn’t need to be in there. I clenched my teeth, trying to bite back the anger and the panic, and the pressure sent an ache all the way to my temple.
“Find a way to get her out of there, now. I’ll be there in five minutes,” I retorted. I was about to hang up when I heard the crowd “ooooh” in apparent astonishment, and Ronan cursed in my ear.
“What just happened?”
“Boss, I don’t think we will need to find a way to get her out,” he said, sounding shocked.“We may need to get a body bag.”
“Open the back door. I’m pulling up.” I hung up abruptly as I shifted the car into park, not caring about the fact that I’d most likely need a new gearbox after not coming to a complete stop before I parked it.
Sprinting to the door that just began to open, I could hear the crowd inside going feral. I climbed the stairs to the balcony to ensure she didn’t see me.
Maeve was straddling the man in the center of the ring, her fists flying relentlessly.
He was motionless. Orin stepped up, placing his hand on her shoulder.
Her punching ceased, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession as she seemed to realize where she was.
I couldn’t quite see her face, but I could tell she was processing it all.
I whistled once, and Orin’s gaze shot up toward me. I nodded my head wordlessly, telling him we’d take care of this so he could get her out of here. She’d break down soon.
After they cleared the exit doors, Ronan and another one of our men stepped out from the crowd to collect the man from the ground.
I descended the stairs, meeting them outside, where another of our men pulled up in an SUV.
They tossed the body in the trunk space and slammed the door.
Ronan walked over, his expression grave.
“What is it?” I questioned, my eyebrows furrowing at his expression.
All he did was hold out a wallet. I opened it to where the ID was visible, and I cursed.
Costa.
Fuck.
“He’s dead,” Ronan said, stating the obvious. I blew out a breath.
This was going to get messy.
We take our seats at the table. It takes all of my willpower not to launch myself at Liam and slit his throat. Maeve sits tall and confident next to me. No one would have guessed she was just reliving one of the worst moments of her life.
The smirk on Liam’s face as he looks her over has my blood boiling.
I clear my throat, catching his attention.
Disdain paints his face, but there’s a hint of fear there.
I can’t help but grin as I look at him across the table.
I hold his eyes as I lift Maeve's hand to my lips, planting a kiss on top. His eye twitches and his gaze shifts away. I continue to stare at him, relishing the knowledge that he’d soon pay dearly for his sins once this meeting is over. Once Maeve gets her hands on him.
“Why am I here?” Liam asks, trying to hide the fear lacing his voice.
There’s a slight tremble poorly hidden while he waits for someone to speak.
Every man in the room, aside from me, is sitting back in their seats.
I release Maeve's hand to lace my fingers together, placing my arms on the table and leaning forward to make sure he can see the deadly sincerity in my eyes.
“Where is Nessa, Liam?” My voice is low.
Cold. I feel everyone’s gaze shift to me.
I have never called him by his first name before.
As a young gun, I’d always been expected to demonstrate deference and respect to the older guys, and in our circle, that meant never using just first names.
Liam looks offended and curious at the same time.
“I spoke with her around lunch. She said she was supposed to meet you for dress shopping,” he says, addressing Maeve instead of me.
“I asked you the question,” I said, standing slowly and planting my knuckles on the table. “The next time you speak to her, I’ll cut your tongue out of your mouth.”
I hear Maeve's breath catch. Everyone else shifts in their seats. I let the tension simmer, enjoying Liam’s discomfort, letting him realize what a threat I am to him.
“Is that any way to speak to your elder, son?” Liam says, shooting up from his seat after a few moments’ hesitation.
I laugh, but it’s far from amusing. In one fluid motion, I flip my jacket aside and reach to my waistband, pulling my pistol and pointing it straight at his chest. My grin grows wider as I stare down the barrel at his panicked expression.
Everyone in the room gasps. My father, Cormac, Eoin, and Cian stand quickly, trying to talk me down, but my ears are ringing. The blood rushing through my veins feels like molten lava, but outwardly, I’m calm and steady. My arm doesn’t tremble. My aim is dead-on.
“Whoa, son. What the hell is this about?” Liam says shakily, his hands up in surrender.
“Call me son one more fucking time. I dare you.” I pull the hammer, watching Liam’s face pale as the click echoes in the room like a lightning strike.
“I suggest you address your answers to me. If you even look in her direction, I’ll be sure to put a hole in you that can’t be fixed.
Now, answer my question. Where is Nessa? ”
“I just said I didn’t know,” he trembles, looking around the room for help. Ronan leans back in his chair casually, making himself comfortable.
“Callum, care to fill us in?” My father’s voice is stern, demanding.
“This piece of shit doesn’t deserve to breathe,” I say levelly, still pointing the gun at Liam. “He’s lucky I haven’t already pulled the trigger, but,” I say, trailing off thoughtfully, “that would be too merciful.”
“What are you talking about, Callum?”
“That’s a conversation for later on. Right now, we need to know where Nessa is before she makes it too far.”
“Liam, where is she?” Cormac speaks this time, his disdain for this uncivil turn in the proceedings evident.
“I don’t know,” Liam doubles down, but he’s too fidgety. He knows more than he is letting on.
“Give me his phone,” I demand. Ronan wastes no time reaching into Liam’s suit pocket to retrieve it. He protests as Ronan tosses it to me.
I tap the screen, and the password prompt appears.
“Password,” I demand.
“I’m not giv—” Liam’s retort is cut short as Ronan pulls his own pistol from his waistband, cocking the hammer as he places the barrel to Liam’s temple.
“Two, four, one, three,” Liam says, voice trembling.
I punch the numbers in and search for his message thread with Nessa. After I find it, I lock eyes with him. I toss the phone back to Ronan.
“Take him downstairs, now!” Ronan growls after glancing at the screen, seeing what I’d just seen. Nessa is at home.
Lying piece of shit.
I have a feeling our driver might be there as well.
Only one way to find out.