Page 9

Chapter Nine

O nce his eyes adjust, he takes me in at the bar. Antonio enters behind him, his wide shoulders almost brushing against the doorframe. Malik cleans the bar, far away from me now. His ability to read and assess a situation in a heartbeat is admirable. A moment ago, he was holding my hand.

Finn frowns and shoves his hands in his pockets as he wanders to me. “All the way to Newport for a drink at some shitty bar?”

“It caught my eye.” I gesture to the stool beside me. “Drink?” My heart hammers against my chest, reverberating across my ribs. He followed me. How did I miss that? The fact I didn’t realize is more terrifying than having him here. These are the kinds of mistakes that kill agents, lead to bloodbaths.

Finn slides into the stool beside me. Over his shoulder, he calls to Antonio, “Guard the door.”

“Whiskey?” I ask.

“Irish Car Bomb.” Finn gives me a sideways glance.

Swallowing, I raise my hand to Malik who is at the other end of the bar. He saunters toward us as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. His face and eyes are blank as he takes in Finn. Not a glimmer of recognition in him.

“One Irish Car Bomb, please.” I take a sip of my whiskey. Does he think he’s being funny ordering that drink? In Ireland, a reference to the IRA would get us chucked out of a bar. Or is it a warning? Does he know something?

Malik preps the request. He passes the shot filled with Baileys and whiskey to Finn and then pours him a pint of Guinness. Sweat trickles down my armpits. I lean onto the bar, letting my fingers slip inside my jacket to ease off the button holding one of my guns in place. More guns should be behind the bar. For Malik’s sake, I hope the ammunition is well stocked. With Antonio at my back, I won’t survive if this turns sour.

“Bombs away.” Finn drops the shot into the pint. His Adam’s apple bobs as he chugs most of the drink.

“Checking up on me?” I keep my elbow on the bar, leaning in so my fingers rest close to my gun.

Finn’s lips quirk up as he sets his glass on the wooden surface. “You know the only person I trust?”

It should be his brother, but I suspect he doesn’t even trust him. Both his parents are dead. “No idea.”

“A dead man. That’s the only person you can trust in this business. Anyone else, given the chance, they’ll drive a knife into your back and not even think twice.”

I give him a steady stare and try to keep my features neutral. “Very cynical.”

“It’s the truth, Kimmy.” He draws out my name.

My name. He can’t know. It’s a common nickname. A wisp of panic threatens to take hold. Calm yourself, Kim. Keep your head in the game.

“It’s Kim.” I sip my whiskey. “Just Kim.”

“Okay, Just Kim. What are you doing here?”

“Having a drink.” I raise my glass. “It’s been a long week or so.”

He cocks his head and picks up the remnants of his own drink. “My deartháir beag treating you well?” He downs the rest and sets the empty glass onto the bar.

There’s no menace in his tone. It’s not what I think. He doesn’t know. After releasing my held breath, I ease down my shoulders and take my hand out of my jacket. My heart calms in my chest, the sprinting done for now.

“You thought I was going to kill you?” His voice is tinged with surprise. He stares at the side of my jacket where I keep my gun. “Thought you could take me, did you?”

I give him a wry smile. “Your brother thinks the two of you are on the cusp of a war.”

“If I was going to use you to start it, he’d never see it coming.” Finn leans back in his chair. His pale gaze looks me over.

I shift in my seat so I’m facing him, an arm propped on the back of the stool, exposing one of my guns. “Perhaps you’re the one who should be afraid of me.”

He chuckles and with lightning speed snatches my gun out of its holster. I grin, pretending amusement at his quickness, his deft skill with a gun. Sweat trickles down my back. Very few people get the best of me. It scares me and pisses me off he’s done it. Stupid. Stupid. In the back of my mind, I hear Carys say a man will get a woman killed. Only if I let him.

“The day I fear a woman is the day I quit this business.” He checks the safety on the gun. “There’s no quitting, Kimmy. The only two ways out are death or jail.”

“You’re warning me?” This time the nickname doesn’t send my pulse skyrocketing.

“Nah.” He offers me the gun handle. “You don’t know enough yet. If you stay, someday you’ll know too much, and then you’ll be like me and Lorcan. No way out.”

“I’ve been in this business, or a version of it, for a long time.” I shove my gun back into its holster.

“Moved all around as a kid. Lived in Newport very briefly. Mother and father split up. You’re not close to either one. One brother killed in a freak accident. You were a runner for an organization in Miami for a few years. Carys snatched you out of obscurity because she has a soft spot for tough, beautiful women. You’ve been working for her for about a year now, right?”

My jaw clenches. At least my backstory holds up. The lies roll off his tongue, but they hit me smack in the chest. Being confronted with them all at one time makes me unsteady. “Yes,” I bite out, unable to say more.

“Why would you leave her to come work for Lorcan?” He gives me a side glance. “That’s the question that’s been circling.”

“Your brother was very persuasive.”

“I’m missing something. But I’ll figure it out.” Finn tilts his empty glass from side-to-side. “I like a little mystery.”

“You drove all this way to check up on me, to figure it out?”

“Added bonus. I’m here expanding my empire.”

He’s focused on the alcohol lined up behind the bar, but he’s clearly serious.

“Empire?” Does Lorcan know? Should I tell him? Or is Finn testing me?

“If we go to war, I need foot soldiers.”

“Hours from Boston? You’re bullshitting me.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Sliding off the stool, he opens his wallet and drops a twenty onto the bar. “See you around, Kimmy.”

“It’s Kim.” I lean over my seat as he saunters to the door.

“Oh, right.” He exaggerates the words. His back remains to me as he zeros in on the door. “I forgot.”

My shoulders ache from the tension, and sweat has left pools on my skin. Maybe there’s a shower in the back.

When he nears the door, he leans into Antonio and then gives me a look. “Antonio will stay to make sure you get back okay.” His voice echoes around the empty bar.

“Wonderful.” I raise the remnants of my drink.

Ian pokes his head in and prompts Finn. With one last glance, he leaves Antonio at the door and slips out onto the street.

Sighing, I swish my drink around. Any chance of speaking to Malik or showering is gone with Antonio standing guard in the doorway.

“Anything else?” Malik’s voice is pitched loud enough for Antonio to hear.

“No,” I say. “Just the bill.” Twenty dollars sits between us. He hands a piece of paper to me. I leave the money and slip the paper into my pocket. Whatever it is, I’ll have to read it later. “Keep the change.”

“Have a good day.” He uses the cloth in his hand to wipe the spot I vacated.

As I approach Antonio, his gaze travels over me. “You ever wear anything other than black?”

“Gray.” I open the door. “I like gray.”

“Seems kinda boring.” He catches the door and then trails after me. “Pretty girl like you could use some color.”

“Woman,” I say over my shoulder.

“What?”

“I’m not a girl, I’m a woman. While I suppose it’s nice you think I’m pretty, I don’t need to hear it. We work together. We’re not at the salon getting our hair and nails done.”

I lead him through the streets back to my car, making sure to weave around the city in case anyone else is following us.

“You know, I’m here to protect you now. You don’t need to take a stupid-ass route back to your car.”

“I can protect myself.”

He snorts. “Women think that until they get in too deep.”

“I’m a good swimmer.” Opening the driver’s-side door, I slide in.

Antonio chuckles, climbing in beside me. “But you’re shitty at picking up a tail. We followed you from the house.”

My stomach drops. Have I become rusty and reliant on other people? With Carys, I was surrounded by bodyguards. When I needed to meet Malik, I left the city by plane. Now, meeting him a few hours away by car, I have to be more careful. Today’s mistake can’t happen again.

“He tell you why he followed me?” My seatbelt catches, and I release it to bring it across again.

“Finn don’t tell me shit. I do what he says.”

“Ever ask?”

“Asking gets you killed. He doesn’t like curious people.”

“You only work for him?” I put the car in drive and check my blind spot before pulling out into the busy traffic.

“I work for them both—mostly Finn lately.” Antonio rubs his hands together and fiddles with the radio. He checks the mirrors and then glances behind him. “Truth is, I’d rather work for Lorcan.”

“Why’s that?”

“At least he’ll ask you if you did it before he shoots you.”

I flex my hands on the steering wheel and follow the soothing voice of the navigation system. It’s set to an Irish accent—my choice when I got in earlier. Hearing it now, it’s foolish. What must Antonio be thinking?

“You know the way back?” My hand is poised over the button to switch off the directions.

He gives me a sideways glance. “Yeah, I got you covered.”

We drive in silence for a while. The note in my pocket is acidic, eating away at my clothes, burning my skin. Why did Malik want to see me? What’s on the paper?

Antonio’s phone beeps, and he takes it out of his pocket. “Boss wants us to meet him at The Cage.”

“Finn?”

“Lorcan.” He checks the clock in the car before texting him back.

How does he know Antonio is with me? Instead of asking, I stay quiet. Sometimes you learn more by not asking in this business.

“You got weapons on you?” He puts his phone back into his pocket.

“Always. Why?”

“The Cage is an O’Malley establishment. Lorcan’s got a meeting with them.”

I frown, pressing my foot on the accelerator to pass an old woman in the wrong lane of the highway. Nervous drivers on multilane highways piss me off. Stay home. Take a different route. Get out of my way.

“What’s The Cage?” The Cage wasn’t in the file, but according to my information, the relationship between the Donagheys and O’Malleys is strained.

“Underground fight ring.”

“Is Lorcan trying to start something with them?” Maybe the intel is wrong, and Lorcan gets along with the O’Malley family. The crime syndicates in Boston need a road map to decipher the connections and old grudges. There’s so much I don’t understand yet.

Antonio laughs. “You think I know? He said come. We come. He said be armed. We make sure we’re armed to the teeth.” He eyes me with annoyance.

I’m asking too many questions. “The Cage it is,” I murmur.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll protect you.”

His condescending tone grates on my nerves. Instead of correcting him, I drive the rest of the way in silence. Mentally, I tick through the ammunition I have, hoping it’s enough for whatever comes next.