Page 69 of Alfie: Part One

You dumb son of a bitch, you should’ve apologized.

“Pick a rib,” I told Tony.

He spat blood on the floor. Maybe he’d bitten his tongue or something. Maybe the cat got it.

“Are you seriously this goddamn stupid?” I couldn’t help it; I laughed and shook my head. Because if my ass was on the line, I’d beg for forgiveness. I’d beg for my life. It was worth it.

The best things in life were worth swallowing your pride and begging for.

“Fine. I’ll choose for you,” I said.

I didn’t drag things out further. I eased back and raised the bat before I rammed it into his side with enough force to knock the air out of his lungs.

He screamed out a hoarse cry, and he choked when he tried to catch his breath.

“For fuck’s sake, Tony!” Colby yelled. “Say you’re sorry and thank O’Shea for sparing you!”

I beat Tony again, in the same spot, fairly confident I’d fractured at least two ribs.

The pain seemed to change Tony’s mind a little.

“Won’t happen again,” he wheezed out. “Fuck—I c-can’t…”

“You can’t what?” I swung the bat once more and hoped with every fiber of my being that it was the last.

He choked out the pain, and Colm let him fall to the floor in a heap.

I squatted down in front of Tony. “Use your last two remaining brain cells and beg the boss for mercy.”

As I stared down at this bloody fucking mess, literally, I felt completely detached from my own body. I feltnothing. My mind was…maybe a little frazzled—thoughts and images flashed like static, but that was it. My pulse was barely elevated. The ringing in my ears—okay, that was still there.

I swallowed dryly. My heart wasn’t pounding. I wasn’t nervous.

“I’m sorry,” Tony whimpered.

I scratched my nose and peered back at the boss and Kellan.

Finn lit up a new smoke and took a deep drag. Then he tilted his head a fraction toward Kellan. “He ain’t worth keeping alive. I’ll give him one month with the Caldwells in Dublin. If he hasn’t turned shit around and made enough money to put a smile on my face, he’s gone.”

Kellan nodded in understanding. “I’ll give Shan a call. He can make sure the shit’s ready to hop on a plane in the next two days.”

Well, nothing screamed comfort like sitting in a plane for eight hours with fractured ribs.

At least he was alive.

But part of me wondered if Finn was right. What if Tony took this time to become a rat? Regardless of how clean our hands were on paper—and sure, he’d have no proof—he could make the cops look into things. It would be another sheet in the already thick case file for the O’Sheas.

Finn blew out some smoke and faced me. “Now the other one.”

What?

I rose to my feet and glanced at Colby, and all my apathy flew out the fucking window. No—I refused. The kid was shaking, and at some point during the assault on his brother, he’d pissed himself.

Discomfort settled like a rock in my stomach, and I clenched my jaw.

Not fucking happening. You had to be another level of twisted to push him down further.

I walked over to Finn, ready to plead my case, and I dropped the bat on the floor. It clanked with a muted thud before rolling over to Kellan’s feet.