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A couple comes in, stumbling, and Seamus scoots himself back, making sure there’s more distance between me and them. Like he’d be able to stop me if I decided to start something.

Lucky for him and his face, I don’t want to.

But I do really want to check in on Lucie.

She has that stupid little cat, Arnold, and my brothers with her. She’s fine.

Ah, fuck, she’s probably veering between tears and making voodoo dolls of me.

Or would she only do that if I hadn’t just killed her no-good, fake bastard father?

When I go outside for a smoke, Seamus follows because he clearly doesn’t trust me, and he’s right not to. I kick back against the wall and stare up at the sky.

“So let me get this straight, Cal. You save the girl, you’ve gone completely soft for her, we all have eyes and see that, but then you kill her father?—”

“Not her da.”

“—in front of her and then you kiss her, give her some wild speech about turning her into sport to hunt her down like a crazy man?—”

“Not crazy.” Maybe a little crazy. “But the other shit is true. She’s mine.”

“You don’t own people, Cal.”

I snicker. “You say that now, but meet a lass like Lucie. You’ll change your tune.”

“Do you?—?”

“Careful with your words, Seamus. If you want to keep breathing.”

He rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh.

I take another drag of my cigarette. “I saved her twice; I get to tell her she’s mine.”

He takes the cigarette and finishes it. So I light up another. “Cunt.”

“Fucker.”

“You quit smoking years ago, Seamus.”

He shakes his head, smiling. “You drove me back to it. Look, Cal, do me a favor. Tell her how you feel, even if it’s just that you want her to stay and that you like her. Or let her go or work out some deal, but… Lucie… Fuck. She’s young and she looks at you with her heart in her eyes.”

“God forbid,” I mutter, trying to ignore the sudden slam of my own heart into my rib cage.

After a few more drinks, and Seamus having to stop mefrom punching someone, he drags me out of the bar. We drive around, and I smoke half the pack of Carrolls, then force him to pull up to a liquor store to buy me a bottle of whiskey.

He gets me Jameson. I drink it straight from the bottle, ignoring his head shake.

I stare out the window as he drives some more, the passing lights blurring more with each second. “Fucking de Rosa got in bed with O’Sullivan because the guy would’ve offered him a deal.”

Seamus sighs. “One that wouldn’t have been what he signed up for. Paddy must have sought him out when he got wind ofourdeal.”

“Does it matter?” It doesn’t. Paddy would have screwed him over, stepped in, and then taken us out. Or tried to. And de Rosa? Fucking greedy fuck. “De Rosa wanted all our power and all our contacts on both sides of the pond.”

“I get that,” he says, “I do. But that’s not how it works.”

“The idiot figured the contract would have given him all of our assets if we were out of the picture or if he could get Lucie to turn against us.”

He snorts. “Lucie? She wouldn’t ever betray you, and you know she wouldn’t betray her family.” He falls quiet. “Maybe there was another way, Cal.”