Page 19 of Duncan (Irish Mob of Boston #1)

Duncan

The phone cut off, and I turned to Cian. “You get him?”

“Yea, I got him.”

“Call Liam and Oscar. Tell them to get a crew together and get to wherever the hell he is, fast.”

Mac pulled his phone out and moved away to make a few calls. We had to get to Sean before Ty killed him.

“Bellamy, what the fuck did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Why is Ty calling you?” Sal barked.

She lifted her chin in defiance. Bellamy Healy was as stubborn as her grandfather. She was twenty-five years old and thought she had lived long enough to understand how this world worked. She didn’t have a fucking clue.

“Why is he calling you, Bellamy? We made it clear what would happen to anyone caught helping him. Don’t think because you’re a woman, you won’t suffer the same fate as a man.”

Bellamy held my eyes for a moment longer before turning to Sal. “Do you what you have to.”

“Jesus Christ. Call someone to come get her. I want her locked up until we know what the fuck is going on.”

“What about Grandad?” she asked.

“We will take care of Sean. Is he involved too?” Sal asked, watching her for a lie.

“NO!” she shouted. “He doesn’t know anything. Don’t you fucking hurt him.”

Sal and I exchanged a look. Whatever connection Bellamy had to Tyran, I assumed it wasn’t one of consent.

“Mac, call Flynn. Tell him to come get her and bring her to his place. I want eyes on her every second.”

Mac walked away again, calling in reinforcements.

“Sit!” I pointed to the barstool behind her. She sat down slowly, watching us all closely.

It wasn’t long before Flynn showed up and escorted Bellamy out. Flynn Sullivan was quiet. A moody bastard covered in tattoos. Aiden’s younger brother, who did what he was told without question.

We needed more guys like him. He wasn’t looking to make a name for himself other than being trustworthy. Someone we could rely on. He had proven that trait more times than I could remember.

“You think he was telling the truth about Darcy?” I asked, not wanting to accept that my sister was never coming home.

“Yea. Tyran wouldn’t lie if he knew the truth would hurt more,” Sal explained. “We have to find her, Duncan. I want her home. She should be with your parents. And Duane.”

I wasn’t sure I agreed. Darcy didn’t want to be here. She could have come home when Eamon died. Could have reached out to me, or her son. She made a choice to erase us from her life. Hell, she chose to erase her own life multiple times. Even in death, she didn’t want to be here.

I didn’t answer Sal. If he wanted to keep looking for her, so be it. I was done. Now that I knew she was gone, what was the point? It would only bring more heartache.

Liam and Oscar came in carrying Sean. He was a mess. His left eye was swollen shut. His arm hung at an unnatural angle. And he was bleeding from a wound in his shoulder.

“What the fuck happened?” Sal barked, helping Liam sit Sal at a table.

“I’m fine.” Sean looked around the bar. “Where’s Amy?” He tried to get up, and Oscar held him down. “Easy, old man.”

“Amy is fine. She’s with Flynn.”

“He needs to watch her. Protect her. Tyran will come back for her.”

“What the hell is Ty doing with her?” Sal asked.

“Blackmailing her,” Sean confessed.

“With what?”

“Me. He threatened me to get her to help him. She doesn’t think I know. But because she wouldn’t turn on the phone he gave her, he’s been sending messages.”

“How do you know this?”

Sean lifted his arm and placed it in his lap. “Call the damn doctor and get him down here!” I yelled.

“I’m fine.” Sean glared at Sal.

“You aren’t fine. Your arm is fuckin’ broken, and you can’t see out of your left eye. Not to mention your shoulder is bleeding like a stuck pig.”

Sean continued to glare for a moment before giving in, and we watched as the tension released from his shoulders.

“Tyran talks a lot when he thinks someone is dying. I deserve a damn Oscar for my performance.”

“What did you hear?”

“He’s working for someone. Has been for a long fuckin’ time. Since before E died.” Sean shifted in his seat and immediately winced in pain. Liam was taking care of the shoulder, and the eye would heal in time. But we needed the doctor to set his arm.

“Any idea who?” I asked.

“No. But whoever they are, they aren’t local.”

“Sean, why did Ty do this to you?”

Sean closed his good eye, and pain washed over him. “Amy wouldn’t turn the phone on. She was ignoring the messages he sent. So, he beat the shit out of me and tied me up at a warehouse. I can only assume that when Amy couldn’t find me, she turned the phone on this morning.”

“That’s when we caught the trace,” Cian informed.

“Ty said Kelley was working for him. So, whoever is pulling the strings must know Kelley is a loose end,” I mused.

“Maybe that’s why we can’t find him. Maybe whoever is in charge already dealt with him,” Mac offered.

“No,” Sean said. “Kelley’s still alive.”

“How do you know?”

The door to the bar opened, and Larkin Cavanaugh walked in. Mac stiffened when her eyes landed on him.

“Hey, Doc, Sean has a broken arm, and I know it needs to be set, but I just need another minute or two.” Sal never took his eyes off Sean as he spoke to the doctor.

Larkin huffed. She shot a glare at Mac and walked to the bar. Her bag landed with a heavy thump as she sat on the stool. Her crossed arms signaled her displeasure, and I shook my head.

God save us from irritated women.

“How do you know Kelley is still alive?”

“’Cause I heard Ty talkin’ about him. The guy on the phone is setting him up in New Orleans.

Something about the number of accidents that happen every year during Mardi Gras.

With the number of people on the streets, it’s easy to create a fatal accident.

He said even if people witness it happen, there’d be so many witness statements they would cancel each other out. ”

Sal looked up at me and smiled. I rolled my eyes at him and groaned, “I guess we’re going to fuckin’ Mardi Gras.”

“We have less than a week to get everything set up,” Sal began. “Call Ronan and tell him to get us a place to stay. I want to be in the heart of the city. And we need tickets to the Comus Ball.”

“You should stay here.”

Sal looked at me from behind his desk. “Why?”

“Because Sean is right. Over a million people are in that city on any given day during this festival and fatal accidents are easy to pull off.”

“They haven’t gotten me yet.”

“Duncan’s right, boss. Tyran has it out for you. If he finds out we’re there, who knows what he’ll be capable of,” Mac said, backing me up.

“Tyran isn’t trying to kill me.”

“You don’t know that,” I argued.

“Neither do you,” he countered.

He was right. I didn’t know that for sure. But it was a pretty damn educated guess. Tyran had betrayed Sal. Been doing it for years. Now that we knew, what would stop him from taking him out?

“You need to stay here.”

“Fuck that. If Tyran is coming after me and you all are gone, I’m left wide open.”

“Then we have Oscar and McCoy back you up.”

Sal grinned, and I knew he set me up. “Then they can both come with us and back me up down there. I never get out of this fuckin’ city. I’m going to Mardi Gras.”

Mac chuckled behind me, and I glared at him over my shoulder. “Fuck off.” That only made him laugh harder.

Turning back to Sal, I said, “I promised Ronan I’d try to bring Liam.”

Sal stopped what he was doing and looked at me. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“Ro wants to see him.”

“Yea, well, Liam doesn’t want to see him. He won’t go,” Sal said as he gathered up the papers he’d been looking through.

“He will if you order him to.”

“For fuck’s sake, Duncan. I don’t want to get in the middle of their family shit,” Sal whined as he leaned back in his chair, all concentration for what he was doing lost.

“You ain’t gotta get in the middle of anything. Just make him come with us. I said I would get him down there, didn’t say he had to see him.”

“Fine, you can share the good news.” Sal grinned.

I left his office and as I walked to mine, I sent Liam a text to come see me. He would be pissed when I gave him the order.

“You needed to see me, boss?”

“Have a seat,” I said without making eye contact. I folded my hands together on my desk and looked at the middle McGuire brother.

There were three of them. Ronan was the oldest. He left Boston five years ago to take over the organization in Louisiana after the former boss fucked up and got himself killed.

Liam was the middle child. He and Ronan had a tumultuous relationship at best. At worst, they tried to kill each other. All over a woman that wasn’t worth a damn.

Then there was Gavin. The youngest. The peacekeeper. He tried his best to be Switzerland between his brothers, but he usually got caught in the middle, forced to choose a side. But no matter which side he chose, it was always the wrong one.

“We leave for New Orleans in a couple of days. I need you to come with us.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“Sorry, boss. But no.”

I leaned back in my chair and studied Liam. He had never told me no in the past. He was a good leader who would never ask his men to do something he wasn’t willing to do himself.

“Sheena’s not there. It’s time to reconcile.”

Liam’s jaw ticked, and the thin line of his mouth said he was having a hard time restraining himself. He turned his head and looked out the window. “How do you know?”

“Gavin spoke to Niall.”

“Kid never learned to keep his mouth shut,” he grumbled.

“Yea, little brothers have a way of pissing us off.”

“I’m sorry, boss. I can’t go.”

“Not an option, Liam. The order came from Sal.”

I had hoped I wouldn’t have to pull that card. But Liam was stubborn, like every other person on the earth of Irish descent.

“There will come a day when your brothers are gone and there will be no opportunity for I’m sorry.”

“He slept with my fuckin’ wife. I have nothing to apologize for.”

“No, but he does. And he wants a chance to say it.”

“He doesn’t deserve it,” Liam grumbled.

“Maybe not. But family first. Always.”

“Can I go?”

“Yea, we leave in four days. Be packed and ready to go.”

Liam stood from his seat and stomped out the door. He was thirty-two years old and divorced for five years. He hadn’t had a serious relationship since.

He was jaded. Who wouldn’t be? Hell, I was jaded, and I’d only had one night with Freyja. But the moment she told me there was someone else, I swear my fucking heart broke.

What the hell was it about that woman? Yes, she was beautiful. And sweet. She was fucking fierce, though. The way she didn’t cower when I held her throat in my hand made me fucking hard.

I spun in my chair and stared out the window. I wondered what this mystery guy had that I didn’t. Maybe he was closer to her age. Eighteen years could be a lot for some women. Hell, I was old enough to be her father.

I told myself it was better this way. A woman in her thirties probably wanted kids. We hadn’t talked about that, though, because we only had one goddamn night before she walked out of my life.