Page 41 of Retribution
The two things I wish I could do—make a puking gesture or roll my eyes—are out. Instead, I’m left with every woman’s response when faced with a man who, for better or worse, wields more power. A saccharine smile is pasted to my lips. “Thanks, Derry. That’s so sweet of you. I should get going, though. Ian is waiting in the car.” I wag the envelope. “I’ve got what we came for.”
“You might want to serve it with an Irish Car Bomb, soften him up.”
“He’s not going to like it?”
“Who knows with Finn. He works angles nobody else can see.”
That tip is far more useful than his warning about the two brothers using me. Knowing Finn is impossible to figure out even for people who have known him longer, is a comfort. It’s also scary. My life depends on me reading people to protect myself from any threat.
“See you around, Derry.” I make a beeline for the front door.
“Hopefully not too soon. Take my advice.”
I give him a wave above my head. Today, I’m not worried he’s going to shoot me. Even though Finn isn’t here, it’s clear who carries the bigger gun.
When I climb into the passenger seat, Ian glances at the envelope. “We’re good?” He puts the car into drive.
“Hope so.”
We ride in silence, and I’m grateful for it. Derry’s admission about my brother’s fighting skills is surprising but also not that much. Chad always had pocket money and often slipped some to our parents. Chad’s father was a deadbeat who never helped our mom. It was only when she met my father, Chad said things turned around for them. I met Chad’s father a handful of times. He was never around. Stories about life before me and my dad was Chad’s favorite thing to do with me over a burger and fries, sitting in a parking lot after he picked me up from one event or another.
Then it got blown to hell.
Glancing down at my hands, I shake my head a little. I can’t afford to get lost in memories. Vengeance, yes. But not memories. Thinking about the disintegration of my family only leads to madness. My mother is the proof.
“You want me to deliver that?” Ian eyes the envelope as we cruise through the gates of the property.
“No.” First, I need to slip away somewhere private, take photos of the contract, then send them off. “I’ll take them to Finn after I use the bathroom. The O’Malleys don’t clean their toilets.”
Ian chuckles as he climbs out of the car. “Not surprising.”
As soon as we enter the house, I duck into the two-piece bathroom near the entry. Taking out the contract, I snap photos, email them, and then delete everything off my phone. With a deep breath, I tuck the papers into the envelope and open the door. Finn is entering the house.
“You got it?” He extends his hand.
I pass it over, but he tucks it into his back pocket without checking it.
“He behave himself?”
“Yes.” Except for some of his comments, but I realize that isn’t what Finn means.
“You gonna tell Lorcan what I did?”
One side of my mouth twitches in amusement. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”
He chuckles and taps my nose. “You catch on quick. I might have to steal you away from my brother.”
I bat at his hand, but I’m too slow. With a chuckle, Finn steps around me and heads for his rooms.
Over his shoulder, he calls, “You’re going to have to be quicker if you intend to keep ahead of me.”
As soon as he’s out of sight, I search for Lorcan, but I can’t find him anywhere. Back in my room, I pace. Derry didn’t kill Chad. As sleazy as he is, he seemed sincere in that moment. It could have been another fighter, someone jealous of his success, someone who lost a bet or a great deal of money, a rival of the O’Malleys. The possibilities are endless again.
I need something to take my mind off of this. A run. A long one. Clear my head, figure out what the hell is going on in this house, with these brothers, and across the organization. Because I can’t, I ache to talk to Malik.
As I’m getting on some running clothes, there’s a sharp knock. “Who is it?”
“Your favorite Donaghey brother.”