Chapter 39
HAYES
Time passes in a blur. The contestants get twenty-four hours to do the trial and another twenty-four to see if Senior lives.
Then a day to prep. During that time, I followed Collins around her rounds—the new instructor’s nice and hands-off.
Apparently, my girl’s reputation for being intelligent is enough to make this doctor give her free range in the ER.
It’s amazing to watch her work. The care, the dedication, and how she solves the crisis without breaking a sweat. She’s a work of art, something I can stare at, be mesmerized by.
While she cares for patients, I set up my plan with Briar. He’s all too happy to help—he knows Senior is gunning for his sisters and the kid isn’t happy about it. I’m just lucky he’s on our side.
Finn fails to kill Senior. I’m on my way to my room after an intense boxing session, sweat dripping off my brow, shirt soaked. Killian stops me, a hand slapping my chest, peering in the opposite direction. His lips barely move.
“Botched prison jump. The rival gang couldn’t land a hit. Too much protection. Ethan’s up.”
He doesn’t say anything else, continuing on as if he didn’t just assist me.
Why is he helping me? The guy hates me—yet he’s dropping bits of information I can use to win.
A few more days pass and Killian is standing in the hall as Collins and I return from a late date.
It’s normal being with her—spending our afternoons in the bookstore, coffee and tea in hand as we peruse the shelves.
She only goes to local places, picking up previously loved books, hunting for the ones that people have left handwritten notes in.
Standing in a black crop top and a pair of jeans, his hair falls into his eyes as he nods at Collins. She gives him a friendly smile, carting her purchases upstairs. I stop, looking at the reaper, shoulders tense.
He doesn’t waste time. “Assassination attempt while he slept. Didn’t work.
” His dark eyes scan me, lips tight. He’s on edge about something, his weight shifting between his feet.
“He always has someone watching at night. Never the same guy.” He takes out one blade, twirling it between his fingers. “You’re up.”
“When?” I ask, placing my bag beside a new bouquet of white roses. Odd.
“You start tomorrow.” He glances over my shoulder to the main door. I turn to see a sedan pull up and I whistle low.
Shit. I know that car. Maeve’s boyfriend is dropping her off.
The reaper’s face is full of barely leashed fury, eyes so dark no light penetrates them. It’s the promise of stark retribution. “I don’t need to remind you what will happen if you lose this.”
How can he focus on me when he looks like that? “I won’t.”
Luckily, I’ve had my plan ready to go for days. If I miss this chance, it won’t go to anyone and I’ll be in the hole. If I win this, I’m tied to the top with Finn.
Reese Silva opens the door for Maeve like a true gentleman. Dressed in a smart suit, he pulls her to her feet. She doesn’t look like a mob leader now—she’s dressed in a tight red dress and long wool coat. They must have gone out for a lunch date to some swanky place.
The heat in Killian’s eyes is a blistering branding as Reese pulls her close, wrapping a hand around her waist. When he leans forward, Killian’s teeth grind.
I don’t know why, but I step in front of the man, blocking his view. “You don’t need to be here.”
If I want him to leave my friend alone, I should let him watch her kiss the guy. Maybe that’ll break whatever spell is cast over him. It would certainly do it for me.
But instead, I block it. Hope to limit his pain. What the hell is wrong with me? When did I start caring about the reaper and his feelings?
Killian glares at me and he looks like the murderer I know he is. Alright, maybe I don’t care about his feelings. Maybe I care about the effect his psychotic rage will have on all of us.
“I’m fine.”
The front door opens, bringing with it a chilled breeze and our Captain. Her cheeks are flushed, a small smile on her face, hair windswept. She looks almost happy.
Killian looks ready to strangle someone.
“Twenty-four hours,” he snaps, eyes never leaving the woman. “Make them count.”
I don’t bother to stay. It’s between them and now, I’m conflicted. I don’t want Killian around Maeve—he broke her heart, shattered it and then abandoned a woman who’s never had anyone to depend on. But he’s been trying to help me, he knows my secret and still, he doesn’t look at me with disgust.
I almost pity him. It must suck to be in love with a woman who doesn’t want you back.
Taking out my phone, I send one line to Briar to activate my plan.
Me: We’re a go. Twenty-four hours starts now.
Sitting on the outside of the glass case, I lean back in the metal chair, the phone to my side. I keep my hands on my thighs—close enough to pull my knife but not to attract attention.
Score one for Briar having a guard at the entrance.
My side is relatively quiet with one guard in the far back, a bored expression on his cookie-cutter face. On the other side, two guards stand by the door, and it opens, revealing Senior himself.
My body tenses, and I have the strongest urge to hide. I haven’t seen him since I left that house—him lying on the floor, bleeding out from a head wound I gave him before stealing my mother’s ring. I was only able to do it due to junior’s fault.
My brother has never been astute. He couldn’t handle Ace when they were kids, and he couldn’t do his job duties right by Senior. When he came to let a guy out of my room, drunk and smelling like old perfume, he never properly locked the door.
And he never chained me back to the floor.
I grabbed a small bag, threw whatever I could into it—some clothes, a few things to sell—and snuck out.
But I couldn’t just go without one last thing.
Sneaking into Senior’s office, I opened his safe— I’d overheard his passcode years ago, my mother’s birthday and he had never changed it—to retrieve my mother’s ring. It was the only thing I knew that was hers, the only thing that I remembered.
Senior found me. Tried to subdue me. But I was faster—animalistic. I wouldn’t go back to that room—to that blue prison, full of pain and trauma and swung the closest object at him.
It was an old banker lamp and the man fell. I didn’t stop—just ran to The Wharf. I knew that was Ferguson’s base of operations, that it was a place to withstand Senior’s wrath.
Now, sitting before him, I can’t help but be unimpressed. He’s old, drawn. Prison has not been kind to him.
He leans against the chair, exhaling when he sees it’s me.
It pisses me off to notice our similarities. The same nose, the same chin. I have my mother’s eyes and hair color, but I’m wide like Senior, tall, imposing with the same warm skin.
The branding on my forearm itches, as if it too is irritated being this close to the man who put it there. The mark of a Bruno property, it was etched on my skin as a child. As soon as I could, I covered the mark with tattoos, patterns and shapes that were once inked on my mother.
Bruno was dead to me.
At once, we both picked up the receiver.
“You.”
“Me.”
He sits before me, the orange jumpsuit bright in a sea of grays and whites.
“I know what your cunt Captain is doing,” he says, voice deep. “She’s using me for the second trial.”
I nod. There’s no use in lying. I’m sure junior knows about the plans and I’m sure Senior figured it out after a few fucked up attempts on his life. That leak needs to be found soon.
“It’s a show of strength.” I shrug, leaning my arm over the back of my chair. “Whoever can kill you, wins this round.”
He snorts, dark eyes looking to the side. “Is that why you’re here? To gloat?”
I can’t help it—I smile.
“Not exactly.”
“Not like I expect you to do anything.” He glances around. “I might be behind bars, but not for long. You can’t touch me in here.”
I shrug. I’m not going to respond. Senior likes his own voice.
I just have to wait it out.
“She told you she did this to me.” He points to the table, brows slashed over angry eyes. “That fucking whore put me here. She’s a damn rat. No honor.”
My blood boils at the need to defend Maeve. She had her reasons—and even if she didn’t, that woman has my loyalty more than this miserable sack of human flesh.
“Why am I telling you this?” He scoffs. “The minute you had freedom, you ran with your tail between your legs to stand behind her skirt. Even now, you’re her bitch.”
“Aw, Dad,” I finally say, rolling my eyes. “I’m not her bitch. You know that title belongs to someone else.”
He sneers. “Fucking reaper.”
He finally looks at me, assessing. It’s the same look he always gave me, before locking a new man in with me. No escape. No help. I was to behave—I was a commodity. Not a son to him.
The back of my neck prickles with sweat and I shift, trying to ignore the urge to move. To get away from the danger he presents.
“Both of you follow her around like she’s a Goddamn messiah.” He shakes his head. “Real Bruno men don’t bow to a woman. Especially one like her.”
I see a drip of sweat fall off his temple and nod. “Maybe if you did, the family would actually be prospering. The O’Brien clan is making moves while the Bruno family is stuck in the past.” I rub my chin. “You know, I’ve always been curious. What did she give you in exchange for me?”
The man snorts, smiling slightly. It’s deranged, full of evil, and I shudder. Another bead of sweat falls off his chin. “I had you up for sale.”
I try not to wince. I knew that—or logically, I knew it was coming. The last guy who touched me, let it slip, buttoning his clothes, still wet with my sweat. He wanted to buy me—see how far he could push my limits. Just the idea of someone like that getting me makes my palms sweat.
I was aging out and Senior saw a chance to be rid of the lasting reminder of my mother. Only, I got free before he could make a profit.
“She paid the fee?”
“She fucking doubled it.” He laughs. “That little bitch came into my house, threw a duffle bag of money on to my floor and said you were now an O’Brien.
Barely five feet tall and she threatened me to leave you alone.
” My father shakes his head. “She’s always been a pain in my ass but to threaten me? No.”
Leaning forward, I watch him rub his eyes, coughing slightly. “What did you do, Dad?”
He exhales harshly. “Sent Junior after her.”
Smirking, I say, “I assume he failed.”
“That girl is a psycho.” He shudders, and I watch the color in his face drain away.
“I don’t blame Roman for failing to kill her.
If Michael couldn’t get her to break, my inept son wouldn’t.
But he did get a good few hits in.” He taps his chest, seemingly to look for something.
“She survived and I only assume because Hell didn’t want her. ”
He’s probably right about that.
Glancing up to me, he waves his hand around, a slight tremble to his fingers. “Why are you even here?”
The blue tinge of his lips tells me my plan is working.
“I’m going to be second of the O’Brien clan,” I inform him, smugly. “And I’m here to watch my target die.”
He laughs, a wet hacking cough racking his body. This is who I’m afraid of?
“How? You’re nowhere near me.” He taps the glass, the other white knuckling the phone. “It figures. My son defects and then gets in bed with the enemy? Over his own family.”
“Family?” I snort. “You were nothing but a bleak existence wrapped in horror. I did what I needed to do in order to survive. Including aligning myself with Ace and becoming this.”
Everything I did was to survive. And I’m not sorry for who I’ve become.
I have a family. A fiancée. A life. I never had that with Senior.
The man inhales, breaths coming too quick. I nod slowly—it won’t be long now.
He seems to understand, mouth flapping open. He pats his chest, his belly. He’s trying to figure out how I got to him.
“It’s amazing what happens when you belong to a clan where people actually give a shit.” I shrug. “Especially when the little brother of the Captain finds out you tried to hurt her and take his other sister in a marriage deal.”
His eyes widen. He didn’t know I knew about that. Oh well. It’s a little late now.
I wince as he coughs again.
“Arsenic, if you’re wondering.” I can’t help but smirk. “Tasteless. Odorless. Applied in food and can be rubbed on the skin.”
“I have testers.”
“Yeah, they’re probably not doing so great either.” I wink. “Consider this my formal fuck you to the family, Dad.”
When I move to hang up, Senior sputters, “They record this.”
Laughing, I hang up. “Do they? Or does the hacker have the lines already disconnected, tapes erased, and cameras cleaned?” Tapping on the glass, I smile wide. “I hope wherever you go, my mother finally finds rest for all you did to us.”
With that, I turn on my heel, leaving the prison before he collapses. I’m only a few minutes from the mansion before Briar shoots me a text.
Briar: He’s dead.
My shoulders sag, as I drop my head back. And just like that, my nightmares are eased and I’m on my way to being second.