I pace my apartment like a caged animal, muscles twitching with the need to do something. Anything. Preferably, beat the life out of Hampton and Ronan Kean and all their minions.
Staying low has never been my strong suit. That’s more Blaise’s specialty. I’m going stir crazy hiding at home waiting to find out the aftermath of Marshall’s death. The TV drones in the background as I drop and start cranking out push-ups. The local news anchor’s voice catches my attention when she mentions Marshall’s name.
‘Police Superintendent James Marshall was found dead early this morning in what appears to be a robbery gone wrong.’
I pause mid-push-up as I listen intently.
‘Sources say Marshall was last seen leaving O’Malley’s Pub. Police are reviewing security footage and interviewing witnesses.’
I resume my workout, moving to pull-ups on the makeshift bar hanging in my bedroom doorway. No mention of Lucy. No mention of me. The alley was dark and the cameras wouldn’t have caught anything useful. Still, they could have caught us in the bar. She and I came in together, but she left with Marshall, with me following after. That would be suspicious.
The light in O’Malley’s is dim. Can they even make out who we are? I imagine they reuse tapes over and over, which would degrade the quality of the recordings over time. My mind is going a mile a minute trying to figure out what’s going to happen.
The news moves on to the weather, and I drop from the pull-up bar, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from my face. My knuckles are still bruised from beating the life out of Marshall. How did things spiral so out of control? One minute, I was working my way into the Keans’ circle and the next, I’m killing cops in alleys and holding Lucy prisoner.
Of course, Lucy is the answer. The minute she followed O’Brian out into the alley, our course was set. The good, the bad, the ugly of it all started there.
I catch my reflection in the window. I look as wild as I feel, covered in tattoos and scars. No wonder Lucy looked at me with such fear when she learned who I really am. The memory of her expression twists in my gut worse than any punch I’ve taken in the ring.
At least Lucy’s safe. That’s what matters. Even if she hates me for it.
A knock on my door draws me from my self-recrimination. I check the peephole and see Ash, opening the door eager to hear whether he saw Lucy. It would be just like her to leave. God, the idea of that nearly brings me to my knees.
‘She’s safe,” he says as he strides in.
‘Did she eat? Sleep?’
He makes a face. “How the fuck do I know?”
I stare at him, wanting a little sympathy for once.
He runs a hand through his hair. ‘I think she slept. I brought her food and her work, although I don’t know why. It’s the reason we’re in this mess.”
“It will give her something to do so she won’t leave.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not our biggest problem. She’s acting like this is all some temporary inconvenience. She asked me how long she needs to stay there, like we’re running some kind of witness protection program.’ Ash’s eyes narrow. ‘You need to face facts, Brother. She’s a liability. Not just to you, but to everything we’ve worked for.’
‘I know.’ The words taste bitter.
‘Do you? Because from where I’m standing, you’ve compromised our entire operation to protect a woman who is in a position to bring us all down.”
I turn away, unable to argue. Lucy’s determination to see this as just another news story will get her killed. The Keans don’t leave loose ends. And… normally, we don’t either. Didn’t I kill Marshall to prevent our exposure?
‘She thinks we’re the bad guys,’ Ash continues. ‘Just like the Keans. You should have heard her today, acting like we forced her into this mess.’
“I did kill Marshall and force her into the safehouse—”
‘No.’ Ash grabs my shoulder, turning me to face him. ‘She walked into that alley. She kept digging despite your warnings. She made her choices. Now she has to live with them.’
I know he’s right. It’s the same argument I made to her. So why am I trying to defend her? Probably because I don’t want him and my other brothers to decide she’s not worth the risk.
“You need to let her go. She clearly doesn’t want our protection.’
‘And watch the Keans kill her?’ My voice comes out as a growl. ‘Not happening.’
‘Love’s made you weak. We can’t afford distractions. Not when we’re this close.’
“You, of all people, should understand—”
“I do understand.” His eyes flash with rage, but as usual, he contains it, just like he contains all emotions. “I warned you that falling for her would only lead to heartache. There’s no place in our world for it. Trust me, Flint. I know exactly how love can break a man.”
‘This isn’t about love.’
‘Bullshit.’ Ash pushes off the wall, getting in my face. ‘I watched Megan die in that fire. I know what love looks like when it’s burning you alive. You’ve got the same look I had.’
I can’t stop the image of the house fire morphed with Lucy. She’s in the window, stuck, fire and smoke consuming her. I can’t bear it. ‘Don’t you dare compare Lucy to Megan.’
‘Why not? Because yours is still breathing?’ His words are cruel, deliberate. ‘For now. But if you keep putting her first, you’ll end up watching her die too. Is that what you want?’
I shove him when what I really want to do is hit him. ‘You think I don’t know the risks? That I wanted this?’
‘I think you’re compromised. The Flint I know wouldn’t have killed a cop in plain sight. Wouldn’t have blown his cover for some journalist.’
‘She’s not just some journalist.’
‘Exactly my point.’ He lets out a breath and his voice softens. ‘Let her go, Flint. Before she becomes another name we add to that list of the dead.’
I turn away, unable to look at him. He doesn’t understand. If she publishes anything unsavory about the Keans, they won’t let her walk away, and I won’t let them hurt her. Even though she doesn’t trust me, never wants to see me again. I can’t not protect her.
“The good news is that Marshall’s death is being reported as a mugging gone bad.” Ash is on to the next topic.
I nod.
“Blaise went to O’Malley’s. Saw Marshall still undiscovered.”
“Talk about risking exposure,” I quip.
“Yeah, well someone needs to be proactive. He called the cops anonymously. Said he saw one of Kean’s men with Marshall.”
“That’s not on the news.”
Ash shrugs. “I imagine Marshall’s dirty cops are going to be more loyal to Kean than their now dead boss.”
“Thanks.” I don’t really feel thankful, but I know my brothers are doing their best to help and protect me.
Later that night, I pull a Lucy stunt and head to O’Malley’s just to see what the regulars are saying about Marshall’s demise. As I walk through the door, the stench of stale beer and cigarettes hits my nostrils. Every instinct screams this is stupid, but I need to know what’s being said on the streets. I need to know what I need to prepare for. What I need to do to protect Lucy.
The usual crowd fills the pub, Kean’s men scattered throughout. A few faces turn my way, but most are focused on their drinks.
I slide onto a barstool, keeping my head down. ‘Whiskey. Neat.’
The bartender grunts, pouring the amber liquid. His eyes narrow slightly as he sets it down. “Alone?”
Fuck. He remembers Lucy. “What can I say? Got dumped.”
He shrugs. “Happens to the best of us.”
I take a slow sip of my whiskey, letting the burn coat my throat. ‘At least I’m still alive. Heard about that guy in the alley. Nasty business.’
‘Yeah.’ The bartender leans in, lowering his voice. ‘Word is it wasn’t no robbery. Someone knew what they were doing.’
I keep my expression neutral, though my pulse quickens. ‘No kidding? I heard he’s a cop. Someone’s got balls the size of boulders. Any leads?’
‘Cops are sniffing around, but…’ He shrugs. ‘Marshall had his fingers in lots of pies, if you know what I mean. Could’ve been anyone with a grudge.’
Two of Kean’s enforcers walk in, and I turn slightly away, angling my face from view. They take a table near the door, their voices carrying.
‘Boss wants everyone on alert, but keeping low. Who knows what Marshall told his killer…’
My fingers tighten around the glass. If Hampton Kean is worried about what Marshall knew, maybe the cop had more dirt on them than we realized. I should have questioned him before…
I drain my whiskey thinking I’ve pushed my luck far enough for one night. I’m about to leave O’Malley’s when O’Brian’s bulk fills the doorway, Connor at his shoulder. The bruises from our alley fight have faded, but the way his eyes narrow when he spots me suggests they haven’t faded from his memory.
‘Well, if it ain’t the hero.’ O’Brian’s lips curl into a sneer. ‘Heard you’ve been making quite the name for yourself in the ring.’
I keep my voice level. ‘Just trying to get by like everyone else.’
Connor circles behind me. ‘Where’s your damsel in distress?’
‘Maybe she finally learned to mind her own business.’ My knuckles whiten around the empty glass. I’m either holding back my rage or I’m about to cut his throat with my glass.
‘Or maybe…’ O’Brian leans in close, his breath reeking of cheap beer. ‘Someone finally shut her up permanent-like.’
Fuck. Did they find Lucy?
I work to keep my face impassive as I turn to face him fully. ‘How’s that shoulder healing? Must be hard drinking with a dislocated arm.’
O’Brian’s face flushes red. ‘You think you’re tough shit because you got in a few lucky shots? Things are changing around here. Might want to watch your back.’
‘That a threat?’ I stand slowly, using my height advantage. ‘Because last I checked, you boys don’t do so well in fair fights.’
‘Who said anything about fair?’ Connor pipes up from behind.
I smile with menace. ‘Fair, unfair, doesn’t matter much to me. Results tend to be the same either way. But you’re not worth it. Kicking your ass doesn’t pay.”
“You think you’re tough shit, Tine.” Connor’s use of my fake name is a relief. No one has made the connection that I’m Flint Ifrinn.
“Sometimes.”
“How about I take you out back and teach you some respect?” O’Brian sneers.
I laugh. ‘You really want to do this again? Because last time didn’t work out so well for either of you.’
O’Brian steps closer, but I keep my eye on Connor. He’s the real threat out of the two of them. ‘Would hate for you to end up like Marshall.’
I study him. “That was your work?” I make myself look impressed. “Gotta hand it to you, O’Brian, you’ve got some major cojones. No brains, but big balls to take out Kean’s Pet Cop.” I say it loud enough for others to hear.
Panic flashes over O’Brian’s face and his eyes dart about the room as if he’s worried who might have overheard. “I never said—”
“I heard one of Kean’s men was with Marshall. I never in a million years would have guessed it was you. Was that ordered by Kean?”
O’Brian’s meaty hand fists my shirt. “Shut the fuck up, Tine.”
I brush him off. “Goodness. Why are you in such a tizzy? I was complimenting you.”
“You’ve had your fun, Tine. Get the fuck out. No one wants you here,” Connor says, pulling O’Brian back.
“Sure. I don’t much like the stench around here, anyway.” I toss some bills on the bar. “Oh, and O’Brian? Test me again, and we’ll see how well those threats hold up when you’re drinking through a straw.’
I leave O’Malley’s resisting the urge to go back and finish what O’Brian started. His threat about Lucy rings in my ears, mixing with Ash’s earlier warnings. She’ll never be safe if she continues this story until and unless we get rid of the Keans and everyone who supports them.
I stop at the corner, staring up at the dark sky. Ten years I’ve carried this vendetta, let it shape every decision, every move. Now I’m torn between the revenge I’ve lived for and protecting someone who sees me as just another criminal.
The worst part is, she’s not entirely wrong. I am dangerous. I did kill Marshall in cold blood. And I’d do it again to keep her safe. I’ll kill anyone and everyone who threatens her.
That’s what scares me most. Not the killing. It’s that I seem to care more about keeping her alive than keeping my commitment to my brothers and getting justice for my family. Everything I’ve worked for, everything my brothers and I have sacrificed, and I’m willing to risk it all for a stubborn woman who probably wishes she’d never met me.
