Page 14 of Cutting (Doyle Irish Mob #1)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sean

FUCKING SHOOT ME .

I don’t want to be here. I want to be home with Tara. It’s been three days since I brought her home. She won’t talk to me. Won’t talk to anyone. My cook at least gets her to eat.

Why in the hell did I let Killian talk me into coming to the club tonight?

Callum could handle things for a few days.

Hell, Massimo and Livianna can stake out the club from my office without me. They aren’t doing anything new. Just monitoring the club levels and seeing if they can catch any of Patrick’s associates, or any asshole trying to drug and kidnap someone.

Being here, is just further pissing me off. Massimo and Livianna can’t keep their hands off each other. They are so in love, it’s disgusting. Okay, it’s not disgusting. It’s annoying. And I’m fucking jealous.

Jealous because I finally have the one woman I want, and she fucking hates me. I saw my parents acting like Massimo and Livianna all through my childhood. I swore I would never be like them. That I would never want a woman that bad. Now it’s all I think about.

I get I fucked up.

I ruined us before their even was an us. Then because I’m a high-handed dick, I fucked it up again.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, and turn my attention back to the window. Being mindful to take small sips of my whiskey, rather than pounding it back and grabbing another one like I want to. I’d be drunk in ten minutes if I give in to the need.

I can’t. As much as I don’t want to be here. Killian must have had his reasons. Aside from the attack on Tara’s place that we haven’ been able to confirm was Patrick. There hasn’t been much action.

We’ve reached a stalemate in our search for Patrick. The little fucker only stopped at the Pub once in the last three weeks, and when he did it was only for a few minutes. He didn’t say much, and what he did say was vague as shit. Elena has been working on using the various cameras she can get into to track his movements back to wherever he is staying. So far she has only been able to narrow it down to a general area. Somewhere on the South side of the city, in neutral territory that borders the Russian’s. It’s a depressed area with little to no camera coverage. The three families are meeting as a group in two days to discussion our options for next steps.

It’s infuriating and has us all on edge. It’s why Killian increased the weekly visits of Livianna, and by extension Massimo. While we haven’t been having luck finding Patrick, we have stopped over a dozen kidnappings, and close to thirty drug related incidents since we’ve joined forces.

Livianna’s ability to see little, imperceptible ticks that give away when someone is lying or hiding something, has been invaluable to us. I’ve been learning from her. I doubt I’ll ever be half as good as her, but the knowledge she has shared is greatly appreciated.

Looking out the window, I can see Callum circling the VIP section. Jake is working the bar just feet away, with Zack out on injury, we’ve reassign Danny to the bar on the main floor. Each of them have been given the same lessons on what to look for by Livianna.

Zack caught one attempted kidnapping two nights before the incident in Milwaukee. The man admitted to being paid ten thousand dollars per girl under twenty-five that he could get. He’d only managed to grab one so far. Unfortunately we haven’t found her yet.

We went to the drop location but it was a dead end. Elena placed cameras at the area and has been monitoring it for any new visitors.

Massimo and Livianna join me at the window, and I have to stifle a laugh as I notice Massimo push Livianna further away from me and positions himself between us. The man is a fucking Neanderthal. I swear, the woman is lucky she gets to walk on her own two feet at the club.

I’m pretty sure Massimo carries her everywhere at home.

If she wasn’t pregnant, he might even club her over the head, and throw her over his shoulder.

“Got one.” Pipes Livianna.

Massimo moves closer to the window to try to find what she sees. “Red dress?” He asks.

I look too. It’s become a bit of a competition between us. Something to pass the hours of boredom. See who can find the victim Livianna has spotted first. “Blue skirt?” I throw out.

Livianna smiles at me. “And?”

Hell yeah, I won the first part. Second part of our game is to find the one who spiked the drink. The one who is our target.

My eyes quickly go back to scanning the room. The assailant will stay close to their victim. Waiting for the drug to begin taking effect. The problem with this damn drug is that the symptoms make it look like the person is drunk. Making it hard to distinguish the actual drunk from the drugged. They’re wobbly on their feet, slurring their words, and become hot quickly. It makes them seek out a cooler setting.

Like going to the bathroom, or outside. Within ten minutes the drug will render the person immobile. They aren’t unconscious, though sometimes their eyes are closed and they appear that way. It makes the drug even more fucked up than we originally thought. It means that when someone’s drugged with it and is assaulted, they not only feel everything, they remember everything.

“Black shirt. Long black hair pulled back in a bun. Looks like a silver hoop in his ear. Approaching from her left.” I say once I spot him.

“Go get him.” Livianna says to me. She turns to Massimo. “I’ll text you if I spot another.”

He leans down and gives her a quick kiss. Thankfully, it’s not the full blown face attack he sometimes gives. I’m not averse to witnessing public displays of affection, but damn. I was afraid they were going to start stripping right here in my office, and I did not want to see Massimo’s ass, nor do I want the ass whipping I knew he would give if I saw his wife naked.

Now, if it was me and Tara, I would be all for the stripping and fucking in my office. It’s a fantasy I have played in my head while sitting at my desk many times. I picture her bent over my desk, laying naked and spread on my couch, and kneeling at my feet, sucking me off while I do paperwork.

I head to the door, knowing Massimo will be joining me in a moment. Meanwhile I shoot a message to my team on the main floor with the descriptions. They will grab both the assailant and his victim.

Then I send a text to Tara. She probably won’t answer. I’ve already messaged her twice and called once with no response. Before I left, I added my number to her phone and, told her to call me if she needed anything. I doubt she’ll call me even if she did need something.

I’ve got two guards on our door, and we bumped up security as a whole on the apartment building. I know she’s safe. No one can get to her there.

Doesn’t stop me from worrying.

I’ve turned into a major fucking pansy ass.

As I step out of my office, I give a nod to the two guards stationed by the door. Tommy is one of ours while Benjamin is Livianna's personal Italian guard. Massimo's guard is playing bouncer in the lower level along with Rian.

Our men down on the floor have to be discreet during the extraction. They will work in two teams. One going for the victim, who will be brought to the make-shift infirmary we have set up in our third floor conference room.

The second team will grab the assailant and bring them to Massimo and me in the basement.

As much as we don't want the drugs in our businesses, we need them to remain there for the time being. It give us some semblance of control over the issue and will hopefully help us to find the mastermind behind “V”. We know it isn’t the Cartel. They are buying it, but they aren’t the manufacturer.

It’s definitely not Patrick. He’s not smart enough to create a drug, let alone one of this caliber. And any contact in the underground world he has, would have been someone from our family, or the Cartel. We have eliminated both as suspects. Which means there is a third player in the game.

Massimo and I take the elevator down to the basement. “Hear you got a kid on the way.”

My head whips to look at him so fast, I swear I see stars for a moment. “Who the fuck told you that?”

“Little bird.” He answers as we exit the elevator.

I don’t need to guess. Fucking Elena.

“Yeah, my girl is fifteen weeks with our first.” I concede. The cat’s already out of the bag, no reason to try and hide it.

Massimo crosses his arms against his chest and leans against the wall. “Your girl?”

“Yeah, my girl. It was just a one night thing, but she got pregnant.”

“You like the girl.” He states.

“I wouldn’t have married her if I didn’t.”

The elevator doors open. I go to walk out, but Massimo’s giant arm across my chest stops me. “You married her? Just like that?”

“Yeah. She’s carrying my kid. She needed the protection. why?”

“Jesus, fuck. Please tell me you asked her?”

I don’t answer.

“Holy shit. That’s why you’re even more of a bear than you usually are. Your girl is mad at you.”

I don’t answer. I just push his arm out of the way and move to my table of tools.

Massimo comes up beside me. “What else did you do?”

“Why do you think I did something else?” He just gives me a skeptical look. “Fine. I didn’t give her a wedding, I had a license filed with a forged signature. Then I had her stuff moved and her lease broken without permission from her. Oh, and I drugged her outside the doctor’s office so she didn’t cause a scene.

“You are fucked.” He says with a laugh.

“Thanks man.” I reply. “Your girl seems happy with you, any advice?”

The elevator dings again before he can answer. Our guest has arrived. Thank fuck! I need to hit someone.

We spend the next two hours picking the man apart. Cutting into his secrets.

It was time well spent. The man had a burner phone. It wasn’t his. He stole it off the man who proposed the same deal to him as the other’s we’ve interrogated. Ten thousand dollars per warm body.

We sent the phone with Oscar for him to deliver to Elena and Val about an hour ago. They will bypass the code to get into it, and see if it holds anything of value.

We’re wrapping things up when suddenly the elevator dings, announcing a new arrival. We didn’t get a text about a second assailant. I wonder who it is?

I don’t have to wonder long. Within seconds the elevator opens and out steps Livianna, She is accompanied by Tommy. He’s one of the few who have the code to our system to get down here.

Massimo rushes over to her. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He asks. His eyes and hands roaming up and down her body as though looking for a physical injury.

She grabs his face between her hands to stop him. “I’m fine. Peanut is fine.”

He blows out a heavy breath. “Then why are you down here?”

She shuffles over to my table of tools and grabs a knife. The man in the chair is still alive. For the moment, he’s just not conscious for the time being. Knife in hand, she moves to the left side of the man. Massimo and I follow closely behind. “Had a hunch. Need to check.”

Taking the knife, she presses the handle of it against the man’s cheek. His head rolls to the other shoulder. Spinning the knife around, so she can use the sharp side, she moves his hair away from his neck. “Bingo.”

Hidden behind his ear, and partially under his greasy hair, there is a tattoo. It isn’t our Insignia, or even a version of the Dara knot which is at the center of our Doyle family crest. No, it’s a tattoo I haven’t seen in years. An intricate double “S” overlapping with a sword pierced through them. The symbol for the Street Soldiers gang. The gang we thought was dismantled years ago.

“Fuck.” Grunts Massimo.

My sentiments exactly.

Fuck.

Did any of the other men we interrogated have this tattoo and we missed it?

It’s usually the first thing we check after we strip them down to their boxers, and tie them to the metal chair. Tattoos are statements, symbols, and a trademark of all organized crime groups. This man was covered in them, but most seemed like stereotypical tribal tattoos, and animals. He has a wolf, eagle, bear, even a fucking octopus. None had any significance to a criminal organization.

Except for this one.

“How’d you know?” I ask Livianna.

She looks reluctant to answer. “I watched the hallway security tapes when the guys brought him down. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but something about the way he held his head didn’t sit right with me. It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch, so I rewound the security tapes and watched it again. After that didn’t work, I scrolled through the tapes from earlier, looking for when he arrived. Took me a while. I didn’t want to come down and bother you for just a hunch. I wanted to be sure. I finally found it. Camera at the corner of the building, before you get to the entrance caught the bottom bit of it. After that, there was never another good angle to see it. It was like he was purposely trying to hide something behind his ear. So I went with my gut and came down to check.”

“Fucking brilliant.” Massimo declares before he sweeps her up in his arms, kissing her hard, and stomping his way over to the elevator. Tommy is waiting inside it to take them up.

“Guess I’ll finish this by myself.” I tease.

As though choreographed, they both flip me off at the same time, while never disconnecting their lips.

I laugh. Then right before the elevator doors shut, Massimo calls out to me. “You need to romance your girl. Buy her flowers, draw her a bath, give her a massage.”

Then Livianna pipes in. “And talk with her. Not to her.”

What the hell is the difference?