Page 71 of Irish Vice

“So Kieran Ingram’s a liar?” Braiden’s voice shreds like silk over sandpaper.

“I was talking about Fiona. Not about her father.”

But Braiden doesn’t hear me. He’s still talking. “Ingram’s heard all the stories. He knows all the lies, about all you’ve done for Russo. All the Fishtown secrets you’ve given away. And today you gave him the one excuse he needed. You made a threat he can’t ignore.”

I want to protest. I want to explain. But Braiden doesn’t give me a chance.

“He could have sent one of his own men to do it. He could have called someone over from Dublin. But it’s not enough for him to see you dead. He wantsmeto do the killing. He wants me to prove I’m loyal.”

“Shoot her now,” I whisper. “Before she can holler.”

“What the fuck?”

“Fiona wrote it. She left a note on my desk before she cleared out of here yesterday.”

When Braiden finally speaks, his words feel like an ancient earthquake. “What note?”

I barely have the range of motion to nod toward my briefcase, where I dropped it by the door. “I found it this morning.”

Finally, he releases my neck, shifting his hand to grip his gun. He holds the weapon far out of my reach as he eases his body off mine, and then he slips the pistol into his belt, at the small of his back.

“Let me see,” he commands.

I grimace as I stand. I don’t know if I’m unsteady because of his weight, or because of my adrenaline, or because I haven’t eaten all day. Nevertheless, I manage to cross the room, and I retrieve the lipstick-marked note.

He scans the lines, all five of them, his eyes flicking from the end of one phrase to the beginning of the next. His attention lingers on the scarlet stain for so long I want to scream.

When he finally speaks, his voice is washed clean of every atom of emotion. “You didn’t bring this to me?”

“You weren’t here.”Asshole. I think it, but that’s another thing I don’t say out loud.

A muscle twitches in his jaw. “So you found this in your office. And instead of waiting for me, instead of mentioning it toLiam,instead of telling Fairfax for God’s sake, you hopped in your car and drove all the way up to Boston. To Kieran Fucking Ingram.”

“You. Weren’t. Here,” I repeat, packing each word with frustration.

“Did you think I’d driven off forever?”

“I didn’t know where you went! For all I knew, you changed your mind about Fiona. You could have been off to Boston yourself, making her the third Mrs. Kelly. Wait. She wouldn’t have been third. BecauseIwasn’t second.”

“Don’t start on that?—”

“Start on what? The fact that you lied at the altar? That you made me a laughingstock in front of your brother? In front of every one of your men? You set me up for Fiona.”

“Iprotectedyou! Father Brennan?—”

A wordless cry of frustration rips my throat. “No! Father Brennan wasn’t for me. Father Brennan was foryou. So you could keep Birte and me both. So you could have a virgin in your attic and a whore in your bed.”

“I never treated you like a whore.”

“You bought me clothes. Gave me an office. Set your goddamnhouse rulesso you could fuck me anytime you chose.”

“I never laid a finger on you that you didn’t beg for.”

“Tell yourself whatever lies you need so you can sleep at night.”

“You could have stopped me with a single word.”

Red. I want to scream it now. I want to make him stop. I want to make him leave. I want him out of my life forever.