Page 31

THIRTY-ONE

HARKIN

Play Dirty - Kevin McAlister, [SEBELL]

T he air in the pub buzzes with barely held-back animosity between the two men sitting across from each other. Keira watches the two braced in a stand-off while I watch her relax into a position of amusement at the scene unfolding.

I clear my throat. “Well, as riveting as this little staring contest is, can we get down to business, or do you two need a dual to settle things before we can move forward.”

Domenico’s mouth pops open to spout something at me, surely about my smart mouth, but Patrick steps in, taking the limelight. Keira’s cheek pops with a suppressed laugh when he gnashes his teeth together with a click.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you right now and walk away from this with my granddaughters in tow?” Patrick asks the man responsible for his daughter’s demise by association.

“What happened to Claire was a heinous act on my uncle’s part. It’s why I put a bullet in his skull the moment I found out.”

Patrick’s indignant scoff gains him a curious glance from my girl. Alina straightens across from us, tucking her phone away for the first time since we sat down upon everyone’s arrival.

“Don’t try to make it sound like it was some sort of vigilante justice and not a self-satisfying grab for power.”

“Two birds, one stone.” He shrugs.

“Alright, we get it. There’s bad blood between all of us, yet here we are. Can we get to the fucking point?” Keira breaks into the conversation, sharing our mutual opinion.

Alina’s sneer at her sister goes unnoticed by everyone but me. She must hate the attention Keira garners from both her father and grandfather. Alina will never be the one Domenico looks to for anything more than a bargaining chip. Keira’s skilled and has a backbone that she’s shown him repeatedly. While he may hate it, at least he respects her to some level. Alina’s a pretty face to be married off for alliances. Keira is the heir he’ll never possess.

“I need protected access to the port,” he finally announces.

“Why would I allow that? You have no sway with me.”

Domenico is the little fish in Patrick’s sea—a king amongst his own men, but a peasant to the man across from him.

“How about a cool ten million for a single night of work? All you have to do is allow my contact access to your slot at the docks.”

Patrick sits back in his chair, fingers steepled against his thick beard. The shift in his demeanor is telling. He’s on the line and waiting to be convinced.

“If this is a business meeting, I’m not sure what this has to do with us or why you think we’d care?” Keira confronts her father.

She’s made it clear she has zero interest in working for her father or getting involved in the family business. If it weren’t for my own family, we wouldn’t be here.

His menacing gaze turns in our direction. “You, my dear, have your part to play, as does he,” he finishes with a tilt of his head in my direction.

Interesting. Domenico’s inability to not make a game out of everything grinds my gears. “Spit it out, then,” I bite out.

His unimpressed gaze flicks to me before slowly peeling back to his daughter. “You two will plan a path from the docks to the drop-off location, ensuring we’re not delayed or intercepted, and in return, I’ll let your father go.”

“Breaking your word hardly seems like motivation to do anything for you,” Keira spits. “You said Mr. Greyson would be released back to us for attending this meeting with you. Now you’re shifting things. Why would we believe anything you say, including the payout you’re promising Patrick.” She motions to her grandfather.

“She has a point, Domenico. A man’s word is all he has in this world. I don’t work with liars.” Patrick pushes away from the table, looking between the twins.

“Reach out if you ever need me,” he offers and turns on his heels.

Domenico’s quick to his feet, the chair he was using clattering to the floor. “I am a man of my word; this was your father’s idea, Harkin. He’s very aware of how generous I’ve been with him.”

Patrick stops and turns back in our direction but doesn’t move to rejoin us.

I scoff loudly. “Generous. The last time I checked, generosity included donating to charity, not removing fingers with a guillotine, and then sending those fingers to an unsuspecting wife.”

“He didn’t get a bullet to the head when my men found him. That is generosity in our world, boy.”

A firm touch wraps around my knee, squeezing tightly. The contact grounds my surging rage toward her father. Keira doesn’t move from her otherwise relaxed position, playing the mob princess flawlessly. Yet, her energy flows through our connection, and I know she’s holding firm for her own good, too.

“My father’s plan. Do explain,” I respond, now calm and collected.

“We’ve already established your father owes me. But he also has a pesky problem with the authorities at the moment. I have it in good faith from a trusted source that this could all disappear with a single phone call to the right person.”

I have no words for the diabolical man in front of me. James was right. Domenico’s been pulling the strings all along. The business accusations hitting the news at the same time my father went missing was his way of covering his tracks. A man like my father vanishing into thin air doesn’t go unnoticed.

“We want proof of life before we’ll even consider your offer,” Keira tells him.

Domenico reaches into his breast pocket, plucking a phone from its depths before tapping away. The phone slides across the table, and Keira snatches it before it can fall over the edge.

“I thought you might say that. There’s your proof. As you can see, he’s tucked away for safekeeping.”

“Turn it up,” I tell her.

Keira’s finger slips to the side, jamming the volume all the way up.

My father looks nothing like the man I know. His hair is overgrown and riddled with grease. The clean-shaven, sharp jawline I inherited is covered in a salt-and-pepper beard. His face is sallow and bruised, eyes sunken from malnutrition during his captivity. A raspy, defeated tone fills the quiet pub from the speaker.

“Harkin, I know you must have a million questions, but I need you to do this for me, son. Do as Mr. Morelli asks. You’re the right person to get this job done, and then we can move on from this.”

The video cuts off, and the screen goes black. I want to chuck the device, letting it smash into a million tiny pieces while I pull my pistol from its holster and pepper his body with bullets. He broke the once pompous man of standing into a pathetic, sniveling mess, willing to beg the son who can’t stand him for help. But something deep down refuses to let me walk away and let him suffer his own consequences. I suppose that’s the difference between us at the end of the day.

“Drop me his location pin, and I’ll help you. You have my word; I won’t make a move to recover him until the job is complete. Take it or leave it,” I offer, standing from my seat.

Keira’s quick to join me, stealing the phone from my fingers. She drops it unceremoniously across the table in front of her father.

“Do it, Domenico. We’re a packaged deal. If you want this job to go down successfully, I highly recommend you do as he says.”

My girl rounds the table, leaving before he can answer her ultimatum. Her steady strides deposit her in front of Patrick, who leans against a bar table, taking everything in. The calculating prodigy leans up and kisses her grandfather’s cheek. If Domenico thought he had a hand up in the situation, danglingly the girls in front of Patrick, Keira’s just wiped his ass off the board.

“I expect we’ll be hearing from both of them,” I whisper in her ear, her lithe body tucked into my side as we exit the pub onto the boardwalk.

“One step closer to putting this shitshow behind us.”

“You realize this will make us accessories to his crimes. Whatever this shipment is, it won’t be good if we're caught.”

“We won’t get caught,” she says, matter of fact. “He wants a planned route. We don’t have to be there. We’re not driving it. We’ll get it done, send it over, and once his truck of God only knows what it's transported, we collect your father.”

“I don’t know. It seems too easy. Why all the fuss? Why the meeting with all of us? Ten million on the table is enough incentive, even for a man like Patrick.”

We make it away from the building without being interrupted. The horn from the blacked-out SUV sounds, pulling our attention from the conversation. James is waiting for us a few cars back.

“It’s Domenico. He had to have thought he’d have more pull with Alina and me there. He was counting on Patrick having a soft spot for us. I don’t think he was wrong, per se, but he underestimated the job he was bringing to the table.”

“You’re right. Patrick was curious.”

“Do you know anything about who your father’s contact might be? What this could be about?”

“No. But the best thing about my father's system for his business and communication is that I built it. And I made it with a backdoor.”