Page 25 of Retribution

“Smart.” I mirror his half smile. “He certainly fell for it.”

He smirks at me and then focuses on everyone else. “Right.” Lorcan raises his voice above the din of the men. “We’re negotiating a joint venture. Do not shoot anyone unless we’re fired on first. Does everyone understand?” His Boston accent is back in full force.

There are murmurs through the crowd, but no one dares to speak up. I frown as I listen to Lorcan organize the men according to weapons and skills. It’s not an attack, but he’s planning for the tide to turn. Considering the O’Malleys are suspected in the death of his father, this deal is unbelievable.

“Why them?” I ask Lorcan while the other men check weapons and talk amongst themselves.

“Money is money. Money. Power. They’re the only two things that matter.”

“This deal would be that lucrative? You think they might have murdered your father.”

The intensity in his eyes sears me. “You’re questioning me?”

I flush and glance away.

Taking my chin in his hand, he brings my face back to him. I grit my teeth.

“You don’t question me.”

“Understood.” I push the word out. “Won’t happen again.” Knowing me, it’ll happen several more times. Carys let me say whatever I wanted. Becoming the silent spectator without an opinion is going to be difficult, maybe impossible.

He releases my chin. Out of the corner of my eye, Antonio smirks. My fingers itch to reach for my gun and put him in his place on the ground.

With a sweeping motion of his arm, Lorcan gets us moving. We approach the door of the club like a mob. He’s front and center. I’m on his right side, Antonio on his left, and everyone else placed behind us. Lorcan may not trust the O’Malleys, but he’s still putting himself on the front lines. Is it impressive or stupid?

The door is black steel. Lorcan knocks, and a small door opens in the center. He passes through a piece of paper, and I mourn the note I threw out. If I’m searched here, having that paper could have been deadly. Malik isn’t usually careless, but there’s no way to be sure. Whatever was on the note is lost until I see him again.

Lorcan enters first.Stupid. It’s not brave.

I follow close at his back, fingers hovering over the gun at my side that’s easiest to access and best concealed. It’s tiny, but it gets the job done if I have to fire in a hurry.

As soon as I’m through, the crowd of well-built men greeting us sets my heart racing. My gaze flicks around the entry, trying to take in as much as I can as fast as possible.

What the hell is this? In the middle of the warehouse is an enormous cage. The limp body of a slight, but muscular man is being dragged out of the fenced area by two men dressed in red with the wordsCleanup Crewemblazoned on their backs. Is he dead or unconscious?

Hundreds of people are sitting in bleachers. There are tellers off to the right with a big sign indicating the fighters, the odds, and the bets placed.

“What’s doin?” Derry O’Malley ambles to us out of the crowd.

His hair is thinning, and his stomach protrudes from his middle like a beach ball. He’s not quite as tall as me, but he’s broader, as though he might have been a fighter years ago. Definitely past his prime. While Lorcan has an air of danger around him, Derry seems slippery, slimy even.

Lorcan rolls his shoulders and extends his hand. “Wicked busy night.”

Derry takes his hand and peers over his shoulder at the cage. He smirks. “Business is good. Hope it’s better after our chat.” He acknowledges a few of the other men in the group, and then he zeroes in on me. “You bringing chicks with you now?”

I tense, prepared for Lorcan to be dismissive.

“Derry, this is Kim. She’s myeverythingperson, and you better give her the same respect you show my boys.”

His emphasis on the phrase Carys used threatens to crack my stone-faced facade. I swallow the smile.

Derry’s dark eyes skim over me again, narrowing. “Understood.” Annoyance is clear in his tone. The O’Malleys are notorious for their terrible treatment of women. “All the same, I’d rather deal with you or your boys.”

“You want a deal, you play nice with whoever the hell I send.” Lorcan’s voice is tight.

Derry grimaces and stares at his men behind him. “Follow me to the office, and we’ll hammer this out.”

I manage to catch Lorcan’s gaze, and the dimple in his cheek appears when his mouth quirks up, as though he understands my nonverbal thank-you. Even if he’s put my head on the chopping block beside his, I’m grateful I won’t have to battle for my respect.