Chapter Three
LIAM
That needed to be done.
I head to the bar, ignoring Dare’s murderous gaze as he walks past me.
He has no idea the load I carry on my shoulders. Yes, he is one of my best friends. Him, Cillian, and I are a well-oiled team, and I trust them with my life. And I’d take a bullet for either of them in a blink.
We are all different, and we all have our baggage, I know.
But he has no idea what it’s like to be the de facto leader of one of the biggest crime families and have your own father, who should be the actual leader, going behind your back and ruining all the work you are trying so hard to do.
Dare won’t be getting laid tonight, and as sorry as I am to be the one to kill his buzz, I had to let him know that the woman he was seducing was a traitor.
A beautiful, mouth-watering traitor, who I would have no problem finding inventive and very pleasurable ways to torture. Pleasurable for me, at least.
Maggie Sullivan has been feeding information to our rivals for months, but she’s gone ghost, and not even our bloodhounds could find her.
And they have been trained to find anybody.
“Moscow mule, please,” a sultry voice says next to me as the bartender slides me my whiskey neat.
My shoulders stiffen when Maggie looks at me, tilting her head.
“We haven’t been introduced.”
I look straight ahead, toward the elevators. Everyone who’s anyone is already here, so I’m hoping they stay empty and available for a while.
“I’m Isla.”
“Sure, you are.”
Dare is an idiot, blinded by pussy, but I’m certainly not.
Maggie Sullivan is a traitor and liar.
“You interrupted my talk with your employee.”
“I did.”
“May I ask why?”
As if you don’t know…
“That’s between me and him.”
“Well, it should be my business too, since I was the one you interrupted, don’t you think?”
“If you are so interested, I’ll tell you. Dare is trouble, you should stay away from him.”
“Trouble? Shouldn’t that be my decision to make?”
“You don’t look like you make smart decisions,” I snark, sipping my drink. “So, why don’t you turn around and go home before something happens you might regret?”
Like you being kidnapped and held against your will for your crimes.
Fuck. I hate this!
There is no way we should be thinking about, and let alone actually going through with, kidnapping a woman and taking her to be interrogated and possibly killed. This is not how we do things.
But what else can I do? I can’t let her leave, can’t let her keep selling our secrets.
Maybe I can have Cillian follow her when she leaves. Find out where she has been hiding. Have someone keep a permanent eye on her. That way, we don’t have to take her today.
Then maybe I can talk to my father, arrange for her to be let go.
It’s a really long shot, though. I’m pretty sure my father will have her killed instantly after we learn everything she knows.
I’ve killed men for a lot less, but my father has always been a bit more lax about those types of things. God knows he cheated on my mother enough to send her into an early grave. He doesn’t respect women the way that I do.
And though, I have no problem with killing people who deserve it, punishing those who offend my family, chosen or blood, I do have a problem when it comes to taking severe measures against women and children.
I may be a killer, a criminal, but I don’t cross some lines lightly.
I try to tell myself it’s just my father’s culture, his generation, his illness, but I’m not so sure. He’s become more and more unhinged in his old age, and I worry.
I don’t even like working for my father. I never have. But when you’re born an heir to the clan, you don’t really get a choice.
“Well, you are not the boss of me, are you? And I’ll go home whenever I choose.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Besides, you sent my company for the night away, so maybe you should make it up to me. What do you say?”
The conniving, manipulative…
I look at her coolly.
She’s beautiful in the right light. Her pictures don’t do her justice. She’s lost some weight on the run, and her hazel eyes sparkle in a way the dull, lifeless picture can’t replicate.
She flushes and smiles.
My body responds to the tease, my cock jerking to life as my mind plays a movie of all the ways I could use to make her talk and make it good for both of us.
No, stop it. She is a traitor, and I will not play her games.
Besides, who does she think she is, coming here and making demands of me?
She clears her throat after sipping her drink.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose between my index finger and thumb.
“What is it that you want?”
She shrugs. “Maybe I just want to get to know you.”
“Not interested.”
She pouts, her lips pink and plump.
Jesus.
“Why not?”
I look at her, eyes narrowing. “You’re not used to being told no, are you?”
Her hazel eyes sparkle with a hint of green. “I guess you could say that. I’m an only child. Used to getting what I want.”
“And you want...?”
She doesn’t respond, just grins up at me.
Damn her beautiful eyes. She was pretty enough in the pictures my father sent me, but in person, it’s a whole different ball game.
Maggie Sullivan is a real bombshell, and that tracks with what information we’ve gathered about her.
I’ve never been more sure that we have the right person.
My eyes find Cillian’s green eyes. They look almost sheer, sometimes.
He’s nursing a glass of tequila on the rocks.
Cillian is a dangerous man.
Maybe more dangerous than me, which is saying something.
Being heir to the Hayes clan when my father is unwell is... an experience.
After a couple of moments, I give Cillian a little nod.
Cillian nods as he stands, heading for the empty elevator.
I clear my throat, looking down into my glass before chugging it. “I think everyone’s moving to an afterparty.”
“Maybe I’ll see you there?”
“Maybe.”
I hail the bartender to pay my tab, and the traitor who introduced herself as Isla walks toward the elevator.
Cillian’s already in there, waiting.
It’s time.
The bartender walks over. “Yes, sir, what can I get you?”
“The tab, please.” Now that Maggie left, it’s time to become memorable. I need everyone to remember me sitting here after she left. So, I yell, “Hey, can you add another whiskey neat to that tab before you close it, please?”
He sets both the whiskey and the tab beside me when he is done.
Time for the final axe in the plan.
“Here, keep the change.”
The tip of five hundred bucks will make sure he remembers me and gives me an alibi if I need one.
I could punch him in the face, make a scene for all to see, but the truth is I’m a bit exhausted of all this, so for now, I’ll stick with playing drunk.
Getting up from my seat, I make sure to put enough strength on my legs to send it back, crashing to the floor, as I pretend to slip and let my glass crash and shatter all around.
“Oops! I guess that was one too many for me.”
I stumble forward and feign a few almost falls to make sure all eyes stay on me.
God, will this ever not be my life? Will I ever escape this prison?
“Do you need me to escort you to the elevator?” the security guard asks.
He looks at me and gulps. He recognizes me, I suppose.
I’ve only had two drinks, so I’m not even close to drunk, but the attention I called upon myself did the trick. This is what they’ll remember of me for the night.
Now, it’s time to go join Cillian and Dare.
From what I’ve seen of Maggie Sullivan, they’ll need the help.
I make my way to the door leading to the stairs that will take me to the parking garage.
Annoyance runs through me as I open the door and start descending the stairs.
What am I going to do with her?
I bite my lip.
I don’t want to take her to my father. He’ll kill her on the spot, and I’m...conflicted. Even if she’s a traitor, she’s still a woman, and my father’s code used to be no women, no children.
But since he’s gotten older, he’s gotten more violent, more... unhinged.
I take a breath and call him.
“Hayes,” he barks into the phone.
“Da. I might have eyes on the prize.”
“Good. Grab it and bring it in. Time to end this once and for all.”
“Da, are you sure—.”
“Do what I’m telling you, boyo. Or you’ll face the consequences. And hurry. Your mother has been calling you for dinner.”
I stop descending and squeeze my eyes shut. “Yes, Da. I’ll be home for dinner.”
“Aye.”
He hangs up the phone, and I sigh.
My ma has been gone for five years.
My da is getting worse, so there is no way I can take Maggie to him now. He isn’t himself.
I resume descending the staircase to the parking garage again.
What the fuck am I supposed to do now?