Page 7

Chapter Seven

T he casino isn’t much from the outside. It’s a few sections of a strip mall with blacked-out windows, and in a part of Boston, were I anyone else, I’d never frequent. Once we go through the sliding doors, it becomes clear the business is nothing special on the inside either. Everything is faded and looks as though it came straight out of the seventies. Slot machines line every square inch of the place, and the stench of stale smoke envelops me.

“You own this?” My tone is far from impressed.

Lorcan gives me a sideways glance as he strides toward the back of the building. “It’s not what it seems.”

One of the security guards is in front of us, the other behind.

“Are you going to tell me more than that?”

“Not right now.”

“Trust—”

“Is earned. You earned it from Carys, but you gotta earn it from me.” He points his index finger, and his expression is full of determination.

His accent shifted to more Bostonian than Irish as soon as we entered the casino. The way he slips from one persona to another fascinates me. If he’s aware he’s doing it, he’d be an excellent agent. Lorcan’s ability to blend into his environment or to stand out, depending on the goal, is impressive. Even some agents I work with aren’t skilled chameleons.

“Watch and learn.” Lorcan heads to the keypad beside a door at the back. Maybe an office? “Carys won’t have handled business like we do.” Over his shoulder, his gaze connects with mine before sliding away. “You gotta be okay with getting blood on your hands.”

I push my hands deeper into the pockets of my jacket. Off in a corner, an elderly woman is chain-smoking and pressing the button on the slot machine, shoulders hunched. These places often have regulars, but there’s something sad about knowing she’s gambling away her savings. Slot machines are bad odds. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

As soon as he enters the small room, the buzz quiets. The walls are bare, but there are tables packed tight in the space. The stale smoke smell is mostly absent in here, but there’s a weird combination of too many perfumes. Women are everywhere counting money and packing drugs. For a moment, everyone freezes, then the buzz picks up again. A short, burly guy pops out of the crowd and comes forward, his hand outstretched.

“Danny.” He nods at Lorcan while he waits for me to take his hand.

“Kim.” I grasp his hand in mine, and it’s damp with sweat. When I release his hand, I wipe my palm down the side of my pants.

“Did you figure out who it is?” Lorcan crosses his arms and scans the room, taking in the production.

“I think it’s Bobby.” Danny focuses on the workers, not on Lorcan.

“You think ?” Lorcan narrows his eyes, his voice pitching lower. “You either know or you don’t. If you don’t know, you’re no good to me.”

“I know. I know.” Danny’s voice wavers. “He’s skimming.”

“Is he also the guy selling my product on the side?”

Danny nods.

“I need you to speak, Danny.”

“Yes.” Danny shuffles his feet.

He’s lying. I glance at Lorcan and then Danny. He’s clearly afraid of whatever comes next if he doesn’t answer these questions. Why lie? He doesn’t know, or he’s hiding something. It’s curious Lorcan doesn’t pick up on the signs. Maybe everyone reacts to him and his demands with fear and uncertainty.

Stepping around Danny, I move through the room, watching the assembly line, the way they calculate the large sums of money. The women working with the drugs are in their bras and underwear. One woman who is clothed and sitting behind a folding table is counting money beside a dark-skinned kid who can’t be more than twenty. Her focus keeps straying to Danny and Lorcan, biting her lip, only half paying attention to the money being counted.

“Bobby,” Danny calls to the only other male in the room who does not appear to be doing any work.

The dark-skinned boy glances up, startled, and rises from his chair. “Yes, sir.”

“Come here.” Danny motions with his hand, waving Bobby toward us.

I trail Bobby as he heads to them, waiting to see what will happen.

“Office.” Lorcan gestures to the door across the room with another secure entrance. He strides in that direction, and Danny, Bobby, and I follow.

Bobby looks bewildered, and he gives me a half smile. “You new?” he whispers.

“Ish.” I try to read his features. He’s either very skilled at keeping his emotions in check or he hasn’t done anything wrong. “I worked somewhere else first.”

“And you made it out.”

As the door pops open, I grab it. “Sometimes you get lucky.” And sometimes you get very unlucky. Bobby is the fall guy for the woman working beside him, but I’m not sure why. Danny isn’t clueless, and that woman is nervous, anxious even.

“Who was the woman you were working with?” We slip into the room behind Lorcan and Danny.

“Megan? Danny’s girlfriend.” Bobby shoves his hands in his pockets, his posture more curious than afraid. Oh, to be young and ignorant.

A smirk touches my lips. “Of course it is.”

“Do you think I’m getting promoted?” Bobby asks.

“Nope.” My voice is clipped. “I think you’re about to get screwed.”

The office is little more than a desk and a massive safe. A large spot on the floor is a rusty brown, darkening to black in some places. That doesn’t bode well for anyone dragged in here. Lorcan is perched on the edge of the desk, and Danny hovers by his shoulder. Bobby is frozen in the entryway.

Wandering to Lorcan’s side, I lean close enough to smell the mint and oak which mingles on his skin. “Can I have a bit of leeway here?”

Lorcan’s intense hazel eyes connect with mine, anger in their depths. “Don’t go soft on me.”

“You’ll thank me.” I give him a small smile.

One side of his lips quirks up, and he gestures for me to take the lead.

“Danny, can you get Megan in here?” My gaze bores into him, wondering if he’ll spill the truth.

Danny’s face loses color. “Megan?”

“Yeah, you know, your girlfriend.”

“She doesn’t have nothing to do with this.”

Cocking my head, I say, “I like to have another woman in the room. What can I say?”

Lorcan raises his eyebrows and gives me an annoyed look, but he doesn’t say a word.

Taking a deep breath, Danny shuffles to the door and opens it enough to stick his head out. “Meg, can you come here for a sec?”

When she appears, I realize my mistake. Behind the table counting money, it hadn’t been obvious, but now it is. She’s pregnant. Beside me, Lorcan recrosses his arms and settles more onto the corner of the desk.

I offer her a smile. “Congratulations on the baby.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, glancing at Danny, head down.

“When are you due?”

“Two months.”

“It must be hard to afford the things babies need—cribs, car seats, clothes, diapers.” I keep my tone gentle, understanding, as though what they’ve done is rational and not suicide.

Meg’s focus flies to me before shifting away again. “We’re getting by.”

“Not without help.”

Lorcan grunts beside me and runs a hand down his face. “Are you kidding me right now?”

Meg’s face is ashen.

When Lorcan’s hand drops, he towers above Danny. “Did you lie to me? You steal from me, and then you lie about it.”

Bobby is slack-jawed by the closed door. “You thought it was me,” he whispers, stunned.

“Danny told him it was you.” I pop open the door. “It’s your lucky day, kid. Get out of here.”

Danny doesn’t meet Lorcan’s gaze. Instead, he’s fixed on Meg. “Do what you gotta do to me, but leave Meg and the baby outta this. She ain’t done nothin.”

“Except steal from me.” Lorcan brims with suppressed rage. “She’s been stealing from me, and you’ve been covering for her.” His fists are clenched at his side.

Danny doesn’t say anything to Lorcan. His pleading eyes are focused on Meg. “It’s okay, baby. It’ll be okay.”

Lorcan’s elbow comes up and slams into Danny’s face, knocking him back. “You don’t steal from me.”

I don’t say a word, and I’m careful to keep my features neutral. I’ve witnessed people in my position lose their cool once the viciousness starts. Crying. Screaming. Begging. Not me. Living this life means I have to seem like I condone the violence. I understand it. Maybe I do.

Drawing back his arm, he drives his fist into Danny’s cheekbone, and Danny hits the concrete floor with a thud. “You don’t lie to me.” An unconscious Danny is sprawled on the floor, and Lorcan whirls around, pointing his finger at a sobbing Meg. “You got twelve hours to get outta town before I send a cleanup crew. You take even so much as one more dollar out of this organization, and your family is dead. You hear me?”

“Y-y-y-yes.” Meg is sobbing, and her agreement is almost impossible to decipher.

Lorcan throws the door open and scans the room, landing on Bobby. “Get my men in here.”

Bobby jumps up and crosses the room to the other door, calling in Lorcan’s two guards.

“Clean this shit up,” Lorcan says to both of them. “Ian, you stay with me and Kim. Sean, you look after Danny and Meg. They got twelve hours to be out of Boston, or you can kill them.”

Danny stirs on the concrete, and Lorcan gives him a swift kick to his ribs.

Up to now, Lorcan’s been restrained, but when he goes to kick him again, I say, “Don’t forget this kindness, Meg. You should be dead right now.” My heart pounds in my ears, but my voice is even. Every time I’m in this situation, I thank the deities out in the universe my training is rock solid.

My voice brings Lorcan up short, and he rolls his shoulders, gathering himself. Bobby would not have gotten the twelve-hour grace; even Danny on his own wouldn’t have. Assuming anything in my file is right, Lorcan’s got a soft spot for mothers.

“Outta town. You never come back, you hear me? I catch a whiff of either you or Danny or your kid, and I’m coming for all of you.”

Meg nods over and over, covering her face with her hands as each sob gets louder.

Lorcan opens the door to the office and jerks his head for me and Ian to follow. We both slip out behind him. Sliding my fingers inside my jacket, I brush up against the metal of a gun.

Once we’re back in the car, Lorcan stares out the window, flexing his hand. “Did you know she was pregnant before she came into the office?”

“No.”

“How’d you figure out it was them?”

“Danny couldn’t stay still. Wasn’t giving you clear answers without prompting. Reluctant. Bobby didn’t care you were there. He was doing his job, like normal. He thought he was getting promoted. Megan wasn’t doing anything but watching you. She should have painted a scarlet G on her forehead and then used an arrow to point at Danny.”

Lorcan’s mouth quirks up, but then he grows serious. “I would have killed Bobby.”

“I know.”

“For no reason.”

I meet his look, and a spark of sympathy stirs in me at the sincerity flowing out of him. Many of the men I’ve known in his position wouldn’t have cared.

“Thank you. I got enough on my conscience without adding to it.” The lilting softness is back.

An uncontrollable urge to grab Lorcan’s hand hits me. I want to touch him, solidify the connection. With a last glance at me, he focuses his attention out the window, and the moment passes.