Page 11

Chapter Eleven

W hen I come out of the bathroom, there are fifteen sets of male eyes sizing me up. Some are part of O’Malley’s crew and others are Lorcan’s. One of Derry’s men smirks at me, and he telegraphs his smart-ass comment before it ever leaves his lips.

“Morning sickness? Lorcan knock you up already?” He chuckles and checks the other guys for a reaction.

Witty responses light up my brain, and I sift through them, rejecting the ones that’ll get me killed. “No, asshole. Food poisoning. Next time I have the urge to vomit, I’ll aim at you, shall I?”

A few of his buddies stifle a laugh behind their hands. “Wouldn’t be the first time a woman’s puked at the sight of him,” one of them says, laughing.

The door to the office swings back forcefully, and Lorcan storms out, Antonio and Ian close behind him. His focus sweeps over me before he says, “We’re done here. The terms are shit.”

Derry leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. Unlike Lorcan and Finn, his arms bulge from fat instead of muscles. Personal fitness must not be a priority. The men fall into formation behind Lorcan with me at the rear.

“Once you cool down, you’ll know I’m right, Lorcan.” Derry raises his voice to get in one last dig as we near the end of the hallway. “Don’t be a fool like your old man.”

Lorcan stops in his tracks, and I put my hand on my gun. When he turns around, his men rotate with him. “Watch yourself, Derry. Your idiocy is showing.”

Derry’s chest goes red, and then the color migrates to his face. “You’re gonna have to come crawling back to me for this deal after that comment. On your knees.”

“Not gonna happen. Hell’ll freeze over first.” Lorcan’s arms are loose at his sides, and then he jerks his head for us to move out.

Derry’s eyes narrow at me, and he sneers. “Collar your bitch, Lorcan. Hands on guns mean bullets start flying.”

He’s talking about me, but I don’t move my hand. Derry could shoot me in the back. I don’t want to be gunned down. I want to know why Chad was murdered. And once I know, people will pay.

“What’d you call her?” Lorcan spits out, his stride carrying him back down the hall. His hand reaches inside his own jacket and extracts his gun. Pointing it at Derry’s face, Lorcan’s rage is spewing out of him as he says, “You show her the same respect you show my men, or you’ll take a bullet as proof I’m serious.”

Five other men train their guns on Lorcan. There’s a weapon in each of my hands, and I rotate them to different targets, trying to gauge who might be trigger-happy.

Antonio appears in my peripheral vision, guns raised. Ian’s shoulder brushes mine as he takes his position beside me. The other men better have our back. If we’re shooting our way out, this is going to be chaos. The hallway with the bathroom is on my right. Escape is straight down the hall.

“Easy, Lorcan.” Derry doesn’t take his eyes off me. “She’s not worth a war.”

“It’s not gonna be a war, Derry. It’ll be a massacre. Yours.” Lorcan readies his gun, his attention never shifting from Derry’s face. “Apologize to her.”

There’s a cacophony of guns adjusting behind me.

Derry laughs. “This isn’t about her. But, fine.” He tips his chin at me. “I apologize for my language.” He lets the end of the gun connect with his forehead. “We both know this is about your pride, and it’s got nothin’ to do with her.”

Lorcan’s jaw tightens, and he lowers his gun. “We’re done here. You hear me, Derry?”

With a chuckle, he spreads his arms wide. “We’ll see. You need what I got, Lorcan.”

“You’re not offering what I need,” Lorcan says. “Stand down.”

Guns clank back into holsters behind me. Easing down my hands, I slide my guns into their places, but I don’t lock them in. What could Lorcan need from a sleazy man like Derry?

Without a backward glance, Lorcan strides past me and the rest of the men. When he gets to the steel door to outside, he slams his hands into it, forcing the door open at an abrupt speed.

On the way back to the vans, he leads the way in sullen silence. I’m still unsteady on my feet. When I weave, Antonio shoots me a look of annoyance.

“I need to eat,” I say before lengthening my strides to catch Lorcan.

As we near the SUV and vans, he slows his stride. He whirls on the men and says, “I need a collection round. Everyone but Antonio and Kim, go collect from people. Protection, tariffs. I don’t care what you gotta do. Money comes straight to me. None of it goes to Finn.”

A couple of the men shuffle and squint at each other.

“Anyone got a problem with that?”

No one says anything, but it’s clear the request isn’t a normal one.

Antonio holds out his hand. I raise my eyebrows.

“Keys. You don’t drive the boss. I do.”

Taking the keys out of my pocket, I drop them into his hand. Do I sit in the front with Antonio who I’m coming to despise or in the back with an angry Lorcan? At least in the back, I might get answers before we arrive at the house.

Going around the SUV, I climb into the back seat. Antonio’s unimpressed gaze meets mine in the mirror. Lorcan’s still talking to a couple of the men outside.

We sit in silence until Lorcan gets in beside me. He doesn’t acknowledge me. Antonio steers the vehicle away from the curb, and the SUV glides through the streets headed back to the house.

“You okay?” Lorcan’s face is turned away, focused outside.

“Didn’t eat enough today.”

“Eat anything yet?”

Darkness is starting to fall on the city around us.

“No.”

“Antonio, call ahead and see if Jackie can have something ready for me to pick up.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Antonio touches the Bluetooth device in his ear.

“Why are you knocking on doors?” I shift in my seat to see him better.

“I need capital.”

“You’re going to raise that through tariffs and protection money?”

“No,” he bites out. “I was going to raise it through a deal with Derry.”

“What happened?”

“He wanted the power and the majority of the money. I don’t need that deal.”

“A product or an investment?”

Lorcan’s mouth twists, and he glances at me. “Product. People rise to the occasion for it.”

I frown. “Drugs?”

A chuckle escapes him. “Viagra. Surprisingly lucrative. Men love their hard-ons.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” I give him an amused smile. “In my next life, I’m coming back as a guy. I need to understand the preoccupation with dicks.”

He laughs and shakes his head. The tension seeps out of him. “Don’t ever put your hand on your gun unless you’re going to use it.”

I don’t bother telling him not only did he put his hand on his gun, but he held it to Derry’s face.

“Guess I have a bit to learn.”

“Self-protection is challenging to overcome.”

“The Cage seems like an interesting organization. Do you know how it works?”

Lorcan searches my face. “No, I don’t.” He glances away, back out the window. “Finn used to fight for the O’Malleys years ago. He might be able to satisfy your curiosity. Course you’d have to be careful how you approached that.”

“Finn fought for Derry?”

Lorcan tips his head. “Derry’s dad. Needless to say, when our father found out, the shit and the fan connected quite quickly.”

“He wasn’t happy?”

“Finn was screwing around, but he could have got himself killed. The O’Malleys knew it, let him fight for a while then rubbed his record in my father’s face.”

“He didn’t win very much?”

“Won all the time.” Lorcan chuckles. “All the bloody time.”

“He was making them money.”

“Heaps of it.”

I fall silent as we pull up to a house. Lorcan takes out some money from his pocket and passes it to Antonio. After sliding out of the car, Antonio disappears down the path of the modest townhouse.

When he comes back, he’s cradling a take-out bag in his hands. As soon as he opens the door, the smell of stewed lamb hits me. The scent is so distinctive, earthy and animal. My stomach rumbles in response. Cooked vegetables and stewed meat permeates the SUV, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it back to the house before ripping into the bag.

“Hope you like Irish stew.”

“I’d eat anything at this point.” I take a deep breath in through my nose. “That smells amazing, though.”

“Jackie cooks it like my mum used to.”

An image of my own mother laughing in our kitchen flickers to life in my brain. The city whizzes by the window, a blur of lights. “How old were you when she died?” The answer was in the file, but I’m not sure he’ll tell me. Tiredness seeps into my bones.

“Fifteen. The year my life went to shit.”

I jerk around, surprised at his honesty. “How so?”

“Nothin’. Nothin’. We’re not trading best friend necklaces. No tales of our broken hearts. They ain’t getting put back together.”

The SUV glides through the gates and onto the property. Antonio stops the car outside the front door, and we climb out in silence. Lorcan leads the way back to the kitchen while Antonio stays behind to watch the door.

Once we get to the kitchen, Lorcan places the bag on the island and goes to the fridge. “Drink?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Water, please.” I take a seat at a stool at the island as Lorcan dishes stew into bowls and downs a beer. He passes me a glass of water before coming around to sit next to me. His shoulder brushes mine.

With each spoonful of stew, I’m more like myself. I dip some of the crusty roll he gave me into the gravy goodness and almost sigh with contentment.

“I’ll need you to go back to the O’Malleys.”

Rearing back, I say, “Are you kidding me?”

“No.” Lorcan grimaces.

“Why?”

“Finn controls the finances. If things go the way I think they will, I’ll have no money. I’ll be dead in the water.”

“He doesn’t know you’re going to work with the O’Malleys.”

“Nope. Would ruin the element of surprise.”

“Derry O’Malley is such a prick.”

Lorcan chuckles. “We’re all pricks.” His hazel gaze meets mine. “And don’t say he’s a bigger prick than me. I’ll be offended.”

“No one’s bigger than you.” I bat my lashes.

Laughter rumbles through his chest, and parts of my body warm in response. “I like the sound of that,” he says. “I may need to get it recorded so I can play it back whenever I’m having a bad day.”

“You’d be playing it an awful lot,” Finn says from the doorway of the kitchen.

Startled, I glance up; my bubble with Lorcan popped. I almost forgot Finn could be around somewhere, lurking.

Wandering into the kitchen, he takes a beer out of the fridge and twists off the cap. He tosses it in the garbage and eyes our bowls.

“Irish stew. How quaint.” He gulps his beer and stares at Lorcan. “Where’d you go today?”

“Out.”

“So did I.” Finn gestures to me. “Kim and I had a drink together.”

“Shame you didn’t feed her.” Lorcan takes another spoonful of stew and raises it to his lips. “Would have saved me an inconvenience later.”

I stir my stew while I listen to them spar, not focused on either of them. Nothing would have saved him the inconvenience. The reaction I had to seeing Chad’s photo surprised me. The memory swirls in my stomach and bubbles in my throat.

Rising, Lorcan takes his bowl to the sink. Over his shoulder, he says, “Come find me later, yeah?”

“Yeah.” My voice isn’t much louder than a whisper.

Finn drinks his beer in silence, leaning against the counter. “What sights did my little brother show you this afternoon?”

Looking up from my stew, I say, “The Cage.”

His pale eyes sharpen, and his jaw hardens. “The O’Malleys.”