27. Keir
Keir
B y the time Mila pulled into the driveway of Oranmore, the sky was just beginning to lighten, with streaks of purple and pink painting the horizon.
It seemed odd that something so beautiful could follow the darkness we’d faced.
Peering over my shoulder, I found both the sisters asleep, curled up together.
With the adrenaline now drained from my body, my head throbbed and my hand felt numb, but at least the bleeding had stopped.
“Guess there’s no jerking off in your near future.”
I turned to Mila. “What?”
With her chin, she gestured to my broken hand, but kept her eyes on the driveway up to the Mac Tíre clan house. The dark hedges which tucked in tightly, allowing only two cars to pass, suddenly gave way to the open space of the circular drive.
“Park it in that space there,” I directed, letting out a hiss when I reached for the handle with my broken hand. I wanted to get inside and head off Finnan before he could tear into any of the women, particularly Molly.
“Stay there,” Mila chastised. “I’ll get the door.”
I watched as the mafia princess rounded the front of the Rover to open my door. With a sigh, I slid out of the seat, already ruing the downtime I’d have to take to heal from my injuries.
“Where the fuck have you been?” a booming voice demanded.
Peering around Mila’s shoulder, I saw Finnan stalking down the front steps.
Mila turned too, her eyes narrowing. “That’s your boss.”
“How did you know?”
Her gaze flickered to me before it returned to Finnan as he marched across the gravel. “He’s wearing the same expression my father wears when he’s about to ream someone.”
An unbidden laugh bubbled up my throat. “Yeah, that’s about right.”
The rear door opened, and Molly peered out. “Are we here?”
“Aye, Jynx, we’re here.”
She bobbed her head and ducked back inside the car, coming out with her sister in tow a moment later.
Finnan’s gaze bounced from me to Mila, then to Molly, before they finally landed on Orla. When they returned to my face, his lip curled in distaste. “Starting your own fucking harem, Keir?”
“I only want one woman,” I replied. Gesturing to each in turn, I introduced them. “Mila Vassilieva, daughter of Maksim Vassiliev, Pakhan of the Russian-American Bratva. And this is Molly’s sister, Orla.”
Finnan scrutinized them briefly. “Debrief. Now.”
With a sigh, I started after Finnan, knowing he was in no mood to wait. At the top of the steps, Fallon appeared.
“Keir?” she asked, worry lacing her tone. Her eyes went to my hands. “Jesus, I need to get you patched up.”
I braced myself for the sense of longing that always struck whenever I was near her, but that emotion was curiously absent. Shaking my head, I said, “Treat the women first.” I followed Finnan up to his office, where I collapsed into the chair in front of the desk.
Finnan’s shrewd green eyes swept over me before he poured himself a drink, despite it barely being six in the morning. Once he’d settled into the chair opposite me, he said, “Tell me everything.”
So, I did. He listened quietly the whole time, never asking a question, even though I knew he wanted to. When I finally finished, Finnan drained the whiskey from his tumbler and rose to pour himself another.
“This is some fucking clusterfuck you’ve brought down on us.”
I let out a deep breath, reaching to run my hand through my hair, only to stop myself. “I know.”
He returned to his seat, this time with the bottle instead of the glass. “How did your hands get fucked up?”
“This one was broken with a bat.”
“By who?”
“Rían O’Neill, Gael’s Caddie turned Owen’s … fuck, I don’t know what. Sentinel maybe?”
“And the other one?”
I shrugged. “Mangled in the fight.”
Finnan grunted. “I need to know exactly what happened to Owen. You only said he was dead. How did he die? If I’m to protect the clan, I need to know every detail.”
The sinister, smug grin that tilted my lips up was reflexive. “Molly cut off his dick.”
The only reaction I got from Finnan was a slightly raised brow. “Seems particularly violent, and personal. Why would she do that?”
“You’d have to ask her.”
He swiped up the bottle and took a long drink. “Is that how he died? He bled out?”
“No. Mila put a bullet between his eyes.”
“And you just left him there? Dickless? Jesus, Keir, what if?—”
Shaking my head, I expanded, “I blew up the house. RPG. The explosion and fire destroyed any evidence that could link it back to us.”
“What about Gael? Has he been informed?”
“I haven’t told him shit. Once I had the women out, we came straight back here. He knew I was headed to Naul Village though.”
My boss’s fingers drummed against the glass bottle still clutched in his hand. “This could make another enemy for us.”
“No doubt.”
His eyes narrowed. “Was it worth it?”
“Absolutely,” I replied without hesitation.
“Does that mean your obsession with Fallon is over?”
I looked away, embarrassed at how transparent I’d been. “Molly is the woman I want.”
“Good. She’s a better fit for you anyway.” He took another drink. “What are you going to do with the sister?”
Shifting into a more comfortable position, I stretched out my legs. “Molly will want to keep her close.”
“You know I can’t have women around here without a purpose. This isn’t some fucking country club.”
“We can set her up in the kitchen,” I offered. “In exchange for our protection, she can cook.”
“And Molly?”
“She’s a nursing student. She can join Fallon.”
A ghost of a smile flexed Finnan’s mouth. “We’d be the only clan with two medics.”
I nodded.
“Fine. What about the Russian-American bitch?”
Now, that was something I didn’t know. “She was sold to the Fiach Clan in exchange for a foothold in Ireland. Now that she’s gone, I can’t imagine her father will hold up his end of the bargain. We may have signed Gannon’s death warrant by bringing her here.”
“Exactly. We can’t keep her, and I have no interest in sharing a bed with the Bratva. Ireland should belong to the Irish Clans.”
“What are you proposing?”
“The girl either leaves of her own volition, or she disappears.”
“You’d get rid of her?”
“I’d do what’s best for the clan. She’s a fucking neon sign to both her father and our enemies that we’ve fucked up. I won’t risk the clan for her.”
I nodded, knowing he was right, but my gut twisted at the thought of what Molly would say about this. “What do we do with her until we figure out a plan?”
“Keep her here. Keep her locked down. No leaving the compound.”
“A prisoner, then?”
Finnan drained the rest of the bottle. “Aye. A prisoner.”
I could deal with that. It was better than being held in a warehouse somewhere. Being held here afforded her some freedom, even if in reality everywhere will have bars.
“Get Fallon to treat your fucking hands and send in your woman. I need to speak to her.”