Page 5 of This Blood That Breaks Us

Ezra’s voice snapped me back to the present. “That’s why you need training.”

“And if we don’t?”

“I’ll kill your friends.” Ezra sighed like he didn’t want to say it.

“How long are we going to do that song and dance?” I sighed.

“Till it sits itself in your brain. You’re here. You’re meant to be here.”

“We’ll comply.” Luke nodded, and I fought the shiver of anger that ran down my spine.

Just a small thing. Nothing you can’t handle.Repeating Mom’s words as my mantra, I reminded myself not to be an asshole all the time. It took actual effort. Especially toward people like Ezra who deserved it. I hated him for more reasons than I remembered, but mostly, I hated him because he had been inserting himself into my life since we were kids. He’d ruined everything, and a part of me—something tiny, insignificant, and weak that needed to be pulverized into dust—had missed the bastard.

Once we were cleaned and our blazers were adjusted, we walked on. A huge horse track carved out of warm wood and gray stone stood out in the field of green. There were three tiers of stands of people watching while below smelled like a bar.

“His name is Liam Brennan, and he owns this horse track. It’s one of his many businesses he launders money through. He’s easy to get along with. It will be good practice.”

“And we help him by doing what?”

“By being at his beck and call. It’s mostly diplomatic. If things are serious enough, we’re there with support, like muscle. Whatever is needed.”

I bit my tongue to stop myself from making a smart-ass comment.

We followed him into the lobby. The red carpeted floor was lush and new despite the crowd of people standing on it, and a chandelier hung overhead with tiny Edison bulbs. This place wasn’t a family establishment. No place for snotting babies or little kids running to the snack machine. Everyone was dressed in a three-piece suit and scowled like a riot might break out if someone sneezed or a hair fell out of place. All eyes were on us as we entered.

Ezra parted the crowd, and we walked across the lobby and out the double doors. The noon sun peeked through the clouds, and I fought the urge to complain about the smell again.

We followed Ezra past rows of men and women, all expensive looking, and climbed the stairs to a lounge. It was full of more warm woods and deep-green velvet chairs, and covered by a canopy that hid our meeting place in shadow.

In the corner of a booth sat a man with a mustache and long brown hair that grazed his shoulders. Those around him stood in our presence, but he didn’t. The man sipped his drink before straightening his jacket, then gestured with his hand for us to sit.

“The prodigal sons return.” His Irish accent was thick.

I waited for Ezra’s lead because the guy looked like a dick, and I tended not to get along with men who acted like dicks.

Ezra sat in a wide-legged stance and pulled a cigarette from his vest. Luke and I took an open chair on either side of him.

“Nice to meet you all. I’ve heard loads about ya.”

“Pleasure.” Luke held out his hand to shake, but I kept mine in my lap and nodded.

I could already feel Ezra’s eyes on me.

“Now, tell me how it feels to be back in the home country.”

“Cold.” Luke smiled.

“Smells like horseshit,” I added.

Ezra blew smoke into the air. “They’ve never visited.”

“I can see that.” Liam snickered. “Tell me, boys. Ever place any bets on a horse before?”

“No. We aren’t big gamblers,” Luke said.

I was happy Luke bent the truth a little. He didn’t lie about things that mattered, like keeping promises, but when it came to safety and strangers we couldn’t trust, he tested the waters.

“Take a look out. Tell me. Which one would you choose?”