Page 35 of The Mafia Assassin’s Redemption (Mafia Obsession #2)

TWENTY-SEVEN

torin

I shove an agitated hand through my hair. “Fuck, really?”

“Yeah, Lucie Joy just told me,” Cal mutters. “It was impossible to stop her. Jesus, couldn’t you get a tame church mouse?”

I half hate my brothers for the uptake of the church mouse joke, but I also like it. Because I call her that, too. And she’s not that at all. Cal sees it now.

“Well, where’s the fun in that? It’d be like if I told you to marry Lucie’s boring ass sister.”

“Fuck no.” But there’s worry beneath the thread of his laughter.

“Harry’s with Liam. She said something about things she needs to do.

Lucie swears she’s calm. Okay, not fucking calm, but not ‘boil you in oil’ not calm.

” He pauses. “Look, Tor, Lucie knows what we were up to, how we were searching for Anthony. And I told her before I left with you that we wanted to find him alive.”

“Lucie isn’t Harry, Cal.”

He shoots me a glare. “I fucking know that. But Lucie explained the situation to Harry. She’ll be back home and… like I said, she’s with Liam. She’s safe.”

I rub my temples .

Dec and Seamus’s contacts paid off and Anthony’s been found. Beaten, stabbed, and he’s fucking lucky, because the teenagers who found him scared off his attackers.

But… This is Harry. A wild card at her core. A brat. My girl.

“Shit, we should have been there, not out, not… looking into things.” I try to swallow down my frustrations.

“Lucie didn’t demand we come back, and she didn’t stop Dec from leaving. She also didn’t send five guards after Harry.”

“We don’t have five guards sitting around.”

“You get my point. I just need you to be prepared for your little powder keg if she decides to ambush you later.”

I’ll deal with it. I always do. But I bite back some nasty words and ask, “What did Seamus say he heard at the hospital?”

“He’s stable.”

“We see him or the gunrunner?”

“Both. Anthony first, then the fucking dude who sold Dec the stolen guns. There’s an answer here.”

“We just have to find it,” I say.

“Look,” Cal adds, “It’s up to you about how you wanna handle Harry. I can order Liam to bring her back, get her under house arrest with Lucie and the animals. Mikey’s there and the guards, too.” He breaks off as I swerve around a car. “Watch where you’re driving, Jesus.”

“I am.”

He makes some calls, and soon we’re speeding through Brooklyn, into Park Slope, and we finally reach the private hospital where Anthony was taken.

We pull up near our brothers and trusted crew…

the loyal soldiers who do small collections, make up an army when we need them, serve as guards, and even drive.

“Everything all right? I’m sorry, Tor,” Dec says, not looking happy as we get out of the car. “I didn’t know she heard me. But she can’t think you’d have done something to her uncle.”

Oh shit yeah, she can. I’ve threatened to take out her uncle plenty of times before.

I force myself to be calm.

“I’ll try to get her here,” I say, because she’ll be safe here at the hospital with me, “but she was upset about the letter, and if she thinks… Shit, if she thinks I killed her uncle as well as her parents?—”

“You killed her parents? What the hell is with this family?” Dec yells. I punch him in the arm.

“Christ, shut up,” I mutter. “I didn’t kill them. She just thinks that.”

“And did you try and explain it to her? Like you did to me the other night?” Cal asks tersely.

This is news? Of course I didn’t. I shake my head. “It’s my fault.”

Callahan swears, grabbing me and hauling me away from the others. “You want to carry a cross and martyr yourself all over the fucking place, be my guest, but this girl… I’ve never seen you like that. Not even about Siobhan. Don’t fuck it up, Harry’s the shit, as Dec put it.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll fix it.” I shake him off and dial Harry’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. No shock there.

I leave a message. Then I text her Cal’s number, Seamus’s number, Dec’s number, Lucie’s number, our fucking mother’s number because I made myself memorize all the family numbers since there are situations for us where we need to know a number and don’t have our phones. Modern day life and death.

And I want to be sure she can get in touch with at least one of us.

I type out my message as a text.

Harry, call one of us back. Your uncle’s in the hospital. Address coming. We’ll meet you there. But call first. Someone hurt him, he’s fine. Got a guard. Please get somewhere safe. HOME. Go the fuck home. We’re trying to get to the bottom of all this. I need you safe. I love y?—

I stop, stare down at the screen in horror, and delete the last bit before I press send. Then I send the hospital address to her.

What the actual fuck? I love you? I don’t do love. It isn’t even part of my vocabulary. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Harry. She’s what’s wrong.

Anger starts to beat a vicious drum inside me. She’d better be okay. Skulking and eavesdropping in corners, getting the wrong idea about our business dealings.

“What happened?” Dec asks, rushing to me. “Did you really kill her parents?”

“No. I didn’t.” I push him away. “I went to save them, and because I chose to try and save Shiv, they died. Harry’s the only one I saved from the burning building in Dublin. One scared little girl. Who, by the way, shot me the first chance she got.”

Suddenly he starts laughing. “She shot you? Oh man… I remember you were shot… I don’t really remember Sian, though.”

“Siobhan.”

He shrug. “Whatever. It’s pretty fucking kick-ass of you to walk into a burning building, because that’s how I see it. You, emerging through the smoke, probably on fire to save a girl. Kick. Ass.” He turns. “Did you know this, Seamus?”

Thing is, my idiotic brother has the scenario right. Not the heroism of it. I was doing a job, and one I failed to complete. Failed to complete, I realize, except in the most important way .

Saving Harry.

I didn’t fail there.

I might have failed her and what she wanted and needed in regard to her parents, but… I saved her.

“I know enough,” Seamus says. “Now let’s get this done.”

We head into the hospital. No one stops us as we get Anthony’s room number and storm the place. As a family, we all go in. And our two guards follow. Good men. Trusted men.

They’ll either kill him or keep him safe, depending on our word.

Although, one thing gets us respect—if we need someone dead, we Murphys do it ourselves.

We don’t want that… yet. The guards are here to protect Anthony until told otherwise.

Because I know and suspect that Cal worked it out before me, that as much as I’ve said I’d kill Anthony, I won’t.

Purely because Harry’s asked me not to.

If he’s guilty, which I now don’t think he is, I would make his life hard, but he’d live. For her.

Anything for Harry.

Anything.

I check my phone. Nothing from Harry. I snap a photo of him and send it, saying to Anthony, “For Harry.”

“Just so you know, kill me and not Harriet. I’ve tried to protect her, and I knew your family would. I’ll?—”

“Calm down,” I say quietly. “I took the photo for her peace of mind. We—I—care about her.” I clear my throat as heat creeps up the back of my neck. “The priest gave me this for her.”

I pull the letter from my pocket and show it to him. And instead of relief, confusion crosses his face. “I don’t understand.”

Callahan puts a cigarette between his lips, then pats himself down for his Zippo. Clearly, he then remembers where he is as he snatches the smoke away and puts it back behind his ear. “Try.”

“I understand what’s on here,” Anthony says, coughing, the steady beep of the machine beside him punctuating the air.

His gaze shifts to me. “After the blood wedding, with the Ricci threat gone, I oiled the way a little more by investing for them. And so I thought it was done, but a man and a woman turned up at my office late one night, right before I was heading home.”

He looks at me and then my brothers.

“He was like you lot, Irish,” Anthony says. “She was American, a Ms. Rao. Wanting money they were owed. All of it. A lot more than I remember my brother-in-law owing. And this says it was paid back. I believe my sister.”

Anthony coughs again. “This couple, they wanted more than what’s in Harry’s trust, and that’s a fortune.

They wanted me to take the money from there, but I said there was none.

You saw me with Amherst Bancroft. We were discussing how to bring them down, if we could, or how to even get the upper hand, but… ”

He half laughs, then winces. “I don’t talk about what I do, but I’ve helped the mafia make money.

I don’t question it. And yes, I helped this Rao couple a little in the end.

But it wasn’t enough. Never will be. People like that are never fully satisfied.

They’ll always take and take. But I don’t think they were part of the Rao family.

I’ve never known mafia to act like they’re doing a common shakedown. Not at my level.”

I exchange looks with Cal. He goes over to Seamus and mutters something in his ear. Seamus nods and takes Dec out into the hallway.

Then I settle my gaze back on Anthony. “What was her name? ”

He hesitates, thinking. “Joan?”

Disappointment fills me and I’m not sure why, because who did I expect it to be? Someone I know?

Yet this feels so much like a Donal Quinn move that something makes me do it.

Shiv and Donal looked similar. She always claimed they could pass for sisters if you slapped a wig and makeup on him.

He was always the petty criminal. So I pull out the old photo I have. It’s Shiv, but… Fuck, maybe he got out of prison somehow. Maybe he…

I hold it out to him “Did the Irish guy look like him?”

Anthony looks, then shakes his head.

“No.” He pauses. “She’s pretty, though.”

A big fucking help. But he’s tired, eyes already drooping closed, and I can’t stop the nagging voice urging me to get to Harry, that she’s in trouble somewhere.

Cal and I head into Manhattan. Cal’s behind the wheel and I call Liam.

We chose to meet at a Russian bar in the East Village.

Dec and Seamus should be there. Dec’s got the gift of gab when he wants to use it.

Fuck knows what Dec said to him, but the gun thief was so hungry for money that he went for the meeting.

Mikhail and some of his bratva will be waiting… for after we’re done with the thief.

“Boss, I was just about to call,” Liam says.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“Stopped at Miss Harry’s place in Alphabet City.” Fucking Harry. “We’re heading to the hospital. She should be back soon.”

I grit my teeth. “Call the second she gets in the car and do not go anywhere without my say-so.”

I hang up. Cal clears his throat. “You think the Russian will stick to the deal?”

“Mikhail wants his guns back and hands on the cretin who stole from him. And I figure it’s good merchandise, so we’ll buy a few. He seems okay, he’s into control, he’ll do it.” I tap my hand on my thigh. “Harry better be okay, so I can punish her later.”

“Whoever is messing with us.” My brother pauses as we cross the Williamsburg bridge. “Are you good?”

“Dandy.”

“Talk to her, okay?”

“No. Once she’s safe, I want you to get her out of here?—”

“Fuck no. One martyr attempt per family’s enough. It didn’t work for me with Lucie, and it won’t for you. She’s under your skin now. Can’t you see that?”

“I never said she wasn’t, Cal. I just want her safe, not destroyed by me.”

“You made one fucking mistake, but here’s the thing.

If you’d gone in and left Shiv, maybe her parents would already be dead, and Shiv, too.

Or what if you saved them only? I know you’d be beating yourself up for not saving Shiv.

Fuck. Siobhan had a cause and a death wish.

The two of you were never good together.

But we’ve all been dumb fucks at one point. Except me, of course.”

I roll my eyes.

“Look, your girl’ll be safe because she has you, Tor.

” He pulls up to the curb and turns to me.

“And out of all the girls I’ve met from the handful you dated, to those who’ve trailed you with hearts on their sleeves, this is the right one.

Trust me. She’ll keep you interested, straight, and loved.

Ah, fuck it. I’m not Mam, I can’t do this shit.

Don’t be an eejit or I’ll beat you to a pulp.

Also, she shot you. How many women get to say that? ”

Thank fuck my phone lights up at that second. Dec’s name flashes on the screen.

We get out of the car and go into the quiet bar. Well, mostly quiet bar. Because Seamus let’s out a guffaw of laughter and says, “Y’don’t say? Your big boss went and set up an Irish bastard named Torin? With guns and cocaine? And tried to have him shot? And his wife? Hilarious.”

Seamus’s eyes snap to me and I nod to Mikhail who gives me the floor.

They have the thieving fuck in their sights.

His fate’s sealed. I just want to know who left the photos of Harry on that bar.

Because the more I think about it, Donal Quinn being out of prison, here in the States, and out for revenge, fits.

Donal and I weren’t the closest. He’d want money. And me dead.

I slap the pictures on the piece of paper down. “Seen these?”

The guy shrugs. “The big boss used to wave them around uptown. Why? Have you?”

“Something like that,” I say, wishing I could shoot him, but his main crime’s against Mikhail so… I pull out my wallet and put the picture of Shiv down.

“Have you seen someone who looks like this?”

“Yeah,” he says. “The big boss.”

Suddenly everything clicks perfectly into place, and I take off without another word, dialing Harry again. It goes to voicemail. I get Liam’s voicemail, too. I don’t wait for my brothers. Adrenaline pushes me forward. I make it down to Harry’s street, and I turn, running until I hit her apartment.

I slam open the door with my shoulder, one gun holstered under my hoodie and one pressed against the small of my back. I race up the stairs and kick open Harry’s door.

And my world crumbles.

Harry stands there with a woman I know.

There’s a look on Harry’s face, one that reminds me of her at ten. The fear and confusion and fight.

The woman has a gun. It’s pointed at my heart.

Right at Harry’s chest.

My. Heart.

“Hello, Tor.”