Chapter 19 Ronan #2
“Sure did. Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t get some hits in first. But promised our friend here some more fun at the warehouse,” Killian says, jerking his head at the half conscious Bobby. “He’s been refusing to talk.”
I step toward Bobby, grabbing him by the face and wrenching his head up. His swollen eyes are glassy and unfocused. Once it registers who’s holding him, fear flickers in his gaze.
“Who do you really work for?” I bark. “Who put you up to the stunt on the promenade? You talk or you suffer the consequences.”
Bobby’s jaw clenches, his busted lips pressing together in a swollen, stubborn line.
Wrong answer.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my switchblade, flicking it open. The blade gleams in the warehouse’s overhead lighting.
“Cian. Teagan. Hold him.”
They wrench his arms behind his back, forcing him to his knees. I stand over him, knotting a fist in his hair and wrenching his head back.
“Last chance,” I say smoothly. “You tell me what I want to know, or I’m cutting out your fucking tongue since you refuse to use it.”
Bobby cracks in a feeble cry. “Okay! Okay! It’s true I work at LDS, alright? But that’s not who put me up to it. It wasn’t Mr. Langston. The hit was… it was a side gig. Just some low-level street work I picked up. I’m not even sure who hired me.”
“Bullshit.”
“I swear! Some guy approached me at a bar in Bay Bridge. Said he’d heard I do good work.
That I served in the military and… and I’m a marksman,” he rambles, husking out deep, panicked breaths.
“He transferred fifteen grand to my account anonymously. That’s it.
That’s all I know. I swear to God. The number’s in my phone.
Saved under Joe Schmo, which is what he told me to call him. Check it. Please.”
I stare at him for a long moment, watching him tremble.
“Sean, search him. Get his phone.”
Sean digs through Bobby’s pockets and pulls out a cracked smartphone, scrolling through until he finds the contact. He holds it up for me to see.
Joe Schmo.
Just like he said.
But I’m not so convinced the Langstons don’t have anything to do with it. Something in the milk still ain’t clean.
My phone rings, interrupting what’s about to be a gory interrogation. I signal to the others to hold on as I check the Caller ID and see Malcolm’s finally decided to return my call.
“Malcolm, just who I was hoping to hear from. So nice of you to finally return my call.”
He cuts straight to the chase, sounding equally as agitated with me as I’ve been with him. “I received a very distressing message from my secretary, Ronan. She said you threatened her.”
“I asked her to do her job. If she found that threatening, maybe you need better staff.”
“I don’t appreciate your tone. I was out golfing with some associates. Is that a problem now?”
“It is when our agreement isn’t fulfilled. You don’t appreciate my tone? Well, I don’t appreciate getting half a fucking shipment of outdated garbage when we were promised military-grade weapons. What the fuck are you playing at, Malcolm? This some kind of scam?”
“I sent the correct shipment,” he snarls. “I have no idea how it went so wrong. Perhaps you should look at your own people before you start throwing accusations.”
“Bullshit. You’re lying through your teeth.”
“I will not be spoken to this way. It’s untoward and beneath—”
“I don’t give a fuck what you think is untoward,” I interrupt crudely. “I’m starting to think my father’s right—you Langstons have been fucking with us from the start. You married your sweet little daughter off to me as nothing but a distraction.
“But you should know that if you’re planning to double cross the Callahans, you better be ready for the consequences. I’m not so sure your Albanian friends will have your back when we come for you and yours. I’d hate to have to hurt the princess.”
“How dare you threaten my daughter! She is your wife! If you lay a single hand on her—”
“One week. You’ve got one week to fix this fucked up shipment. And Malcolm? We’ve got the assassin that works for LDS. He can’t talk right now, but he’s told us all about the fifteen grand he was paid.”
“What the hell are you talking about!? Callahan, this is low, even for you!”
“If I find out you’re Joe Schmo—the guy who tried to have me assassinated—your days are numbered.”
I hang up before he can respond, sliding my phone back into my coat pocket, and look Bobby in the eye. He’s crying openly now, snot and blood mixing on his upper lip.
So fucking pathetic. Too fucking pathetic to live.
I toss the switchblade to Killian.
“You know what to do. He’s provided his use.”
Then I turn and walk away, Bobby’s screams echoing off the warehouse walls behind me.
A couple hours later, I stand in front of my men with Bobby Miller’s blood still drying on the warehouse floor behind us.
“It’s time we make another offensive move. We’re going after Dren and his family,” I explain calmly. “Regardless of who they might be working with—the Albanians are involved one way or another. Since my blood wasn’t off-limits, neither is theirs. We’re targeting them at their home. All of them.”
The men exchange glances. Eddie shuffles on his feet, his brow creased.
“Shouldn’t we find out the identity of Joe Schmo first?” he asks. “Figure out who’s actually pulling the strings before we—”
“We’ve wasted enough time,” Killian snaps. “All signs point to Albanian involvement either way. What’re we waiting for? Fucking confirmation they’re also working with the Langstons? That can come after.”
I nod. “Killian’s right. We move now.”
Eddie falls silent, his jaw tighter than usual.
Sean raises his hand like we’re in a fucking classroom. “I’ll get our tech guy to hack into the Kosovo’s security system. Lower their defenses before we breach the compound. Should be easy enough.”
“Do it. Get him on it ASAP. This retaliation happens immediately. We’ve already waited long enough.”
Dren Kosovo is about to learn what happens when you come for the Callahan Clan.
My phone buzzes as a text comes through this time.
I pull it out with a snarl, assuming it’s Malcolm firing off some outraged text or one of my buttonmen updating me on our operation.
I’m wrong.
The notification on the screen makes me freeze.
It’s from Oona.
I’m not sure what to do. But my loyalty’s with the Callahans first, always has been. Found something troubling in the wash. In a pocket of yer wife’s clothes. Something you’ll be wanting to know about.
I stare at the message, my heart slamming against my ribs as I try to piece together what the fuck she’s talking about.
What the hell does she mean she’s found something troubling? What the fuck could Simone be hiding?