Page 29 of Retribution

I frown. “Drugs?”

A chuckle escapes him. “Viagra. Surprisingly lucrative. Men love their hard-ons.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” I give him an amused smile. “In my next life, I’m coming back as a guy. I need to understand the preoccupation with dicks.”

He laughs and shakes his head. The tension seeps out of him. “Don’t ever put your hand on your gun unless you’re going to use it.”

I don’t bother telling him not only did he put his hand on his gun, but he held it to Derry’s face.

“Guess I have a bit to learn.”

“Self-protection is challenging to overcome.”

“The Cage seems like an interesting organization. Do you know how it works?”

Lorcan searches my face. “No, I don’t.” He glances away, back out the window. “Finn used to fight for the O’Malleys years ago. He might be able to satisfy your curiosity. Course you’d have to be careful how you approached that.”

“Finn fought for Derry?”

Lorcan tips his head. “Derry’s dad. Needless to say, when our father found out, the shit and the fan connected quite quickly.”

“He wasn’t happy?”

“Finn was screwing around, but he could have got himself killed. The O’Malleys knew it, let him fight for a while then rubbed his record in my father’s face.”

“He didn’t win very much?”

“Won all the time.” Lorcan chuckles. “All the bloody time.”

“He was making them money.”

“Heaps of it.”

I fall silent as we pull up to a house. Lorcan takes out some money from his pocket and passes it to Antonio. After sliding out of the car, Antonio disappears down the path of the modest townhouse.

When he comes back, he’s cradling a take-out bag in his hands. As soon as he opens the door, the smell of stewed lamb hits me. The scent is so distinctive, earthy and animal. My stomach rumbles in response. Cooked vegetables and stewed meat permeates the SUV, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it back to the house before ripping into the bag.

“Hope you like Irish stew.”

“I’d eat anything at this point.” I take a deep breath in through my nose. “That smells amazing, though.”

“Jackie cooks it like my mum used to.”

An image of my own mother laughing in our kitchen flickers to life in my brain. The city whizzes by the window, a blur of lights. “How old were you when she died?” The answer was in the file, but I’m not sure he’ll tell me. Tiredness seeps into my bones.

“Fifteen. The year my life went to shit.”

I jerk around, surprised at his honesty. “How so?”

“Nothin’. Nothin’. We’re not trading best friend necklaces. No tales of our broken hearts. They ain’t getting put back together.”

The SUV glides through the gates and onto the property. Antonio stops the car outside the front door, and we climb out in silence. Lorcan leads the way back to the kitchen while Antonio stays behind to watch the door.

Once we get to the kitchen, Lorcan places the bag on the island and goes to the fridge. “Drink?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Water, please.” I take a seat at a stool at the island as Lorcan dishes stew into bowls and downs a beer. He passes me a glass of water before coming around to sit next to me. His shoulder brushes mine.

With each spoonful of stew, I’m more like myself. I dip some of the crusty roll he gave me into the gravy goodness and almost sigh with contentment.