As Connor stands, he looks me up and down. “Aye, I’m coming.” He exits the room, closing the door behind him.
Braden works tirelessly until finally, he smirks, raising his hands in a holy gesture by the sides of the laptop. “I’m a fucking genius, I am.”
“You did it,” Julius muses out loud. He sounds impressed.
“I think I have, my friend. Give me a second.” Braden types some more then suddenly, the file opens, and although I can’t see the screen, I can hear the commotion.
If Braden’s face hadn’t blanched so much as he stares at the video in shock, the sounds of my audible sobs and pained screams in the video tell me what he’s watching.
I should’ve known Dino would record what he and Gio had done to me. He was, after all, a voyeur.
Braden looks up at me, confusion written all over his face, his voice soft with compassion. “Lass.”
Without warning, the door swings open and we all turn. Connor stands there, a proud smile on his handsome face. He clicks his fingers, and announces, “I know who you are.”
I swallow hard, my hand fisted by my sides. I feign arrogance. “Oh yeah?” I taunt. “Who am I?”
In a second flat, Connor’s smile turns into a glower. From behind his back, he raises his hand and points the gun at my head. “A dead woman.”
My eyes close and my body jolts with every shot that is fired.
A moment passes, and I feel no pain. When I hear the agonized groan, my eyes widen in stunned disbelief.
Julius stands over Connor, who clutches the bleeding wound at his shoulder, holding one hand up in the air, a hole through it, dripping red onto the white tiled floor. His teeth gritted in pain, he hisses out, “You fucking mule. Do you have any idea who that woman is?”
“I do,” Julius responds in perfect calm. “She’s my wife.”
Braden stands slowly from his chair, hands raised in a placating gesture, his eyes on the gun Julius aims at his brother’s head.
When Shane runs into the open doorway, he looks down at the bloody heap that is Connor then back up at Julius, uttering a quietly stupefied, “Fuck me.”
Braden sighs wearily, “Fuck me, indeed.” He looks over at Shane and states, “Mam’s gonna be pissed.”
Aileen Kelly is the respected and treasured matriarch of the Kelly clan.
From the moment Redmond “The Butcher” Kelly, Aileen’s late husband, received his terminal diagnosis, he scathingly informed his sons that he would not be handing down the reins to any of them, for they were not ready to lead. Instead, Aileen stepped up and took over without a hitch. Not many women hold such power in these parts, but Aileen proved time and time again that she could out-maneuver even the slickest of firms and hold the upper hand for as long as she felt she needed.
She is a brutal but nurturing woman, especially when it comes to her sons.
I had met her only once, and that was at the trial of her son. She held me with her eyes boldly, daring me to take her Danny away from her. And as Daniel Kelly knelt down before me, almost eager to take his punishment, I pulled the trigger with my eyes on her. To show my respect to the Kelly family, I attended the funeral. Aileen didn’t so much as blink my way, not that I blamed her. She was grieving, after all.
Aileen knew the law, and she knew it well. She had no grounds to dispute them as her son, the youngest of the Kelly’s, had openly confessed to his crime. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. So when she storms into the building an hour later, she overlooks her sons and comes at me with wide flashing eyes, hissing at me like a feral cat down to brawl.
Standing at five feet five inches with a slim frame, her frizzy red hair pulled into a sloppy ponytail, and a crisp pair of the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen, she is a force to be reckoned with. Her black sweats and oversized black sweatshirt tell me she’s come straight from her bed, and I’m guessing a large part of her fury stems from the frightening feeling she must have felt when her phone rang at 3:00 a.m.
Aileen confirms this when she strides toward me, raising her hand and pointing her finger at me in warning, while speaking through her heavy accent, “You’ve sent one of my boys to an early grave, Julius Carter, and you’ll take another over my dead body. Mark my words, boy.” She looks up at me, although it feels she’s looking down her nose at me in loathing. “I am having none of this.”
Before I have a chance to respond, the buzzer goes off overhead, and before anyone has a chance to move, I look to Braden and calmly advise, “I would answer that if I were you.”
But Aileen barks a laugh, glaring at me in disbelief. “Think you be dishing out orders, do you, boy?” Years of smoking have caused lines to form around her mouth. She looks to her son, and forewarns with narrowing brows, “You answer that and you’ll have me to deal with, sonny Jim.”
I get the power trip. I’m in her building, having just shot her son, and now I sit here with my gun lowered, but that fools no one. I’m quicker than any of these mutts.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to the mature woman and speak without a hint of malice, despite how hard it is to pull off. “Your son pulled a gun on my woman, planned to kill her right in front of me. What would you have done, Aileen? I only did what I had to, and as you can see…” I jerk my chin over to the opposite wall, where Connor sits against the wall, clutching at his wounded shoulder while wincing in pain. The hand with the hole in the center of its palm rests against his outstretched thigh, shaking. “Connor lives.” I glare at the injured man. “Which is more than he deserves, I might add.”
Aileen blinks at me in stunned disbelief. “That’s what this is all about? A woman?” She glances over at Alejandra and scowls. “Over this tramp?”
Alejandra’s cheeks blaze bright red. She opens her mouth and a flurry of Hispanic curses I don’t completely understand fly out. And, by God, it makes my dick want to salute her.
“That tramp…” I reach up, pistol in hand, using it to scratch at the itch on my brow. My voice is low and dangerous, as I return, “…is my wife.”
The buzzer goes off a second time, longer than the first.
I see the exact moment she loses her fury. It slowly oozes out of her, being replaced by a sheepishness that would have made me laugh were the situation different. “I see,” is all Aileen responds with.
My patience is worn thin. “Unless you want your son to die this night, by all means, ignore the nurse who waits outside.”
Braden looks to Shane, who shakes his head. Shane is smart, he knows his place, and unless their mother gives the go-ahead, they would do nothing.
Aileen’s eyes narrow at me in suspicion, searching my face for any sign of distrust. She finds none, and with a discreet nod to Braden, he sets off down the hall to let Aida in. We sit in silence, watching each other, waiting for the assistance I’ve promised. Footsteps sounds down the hall, and when Braden returns with the short, round woman holding a black duffle, I smile at Aida’s irritated expression. “What, you didn’t hear me buzz?”
I don’t bother standing, and I know Aida will understand why. I’m not turning my back on any of these Irish bastards. No way, no how. I rest my stare on Aileen, letting Aida know where the blame lies. “We heard you.”
Aida waddles farther into the room with a sigh, resting her duffle on the desk, opening it and removing medical items. She completely ignores the Kellys and asks, “What did shit-for-brains over here do to get himself shot?”
Alejandra answers coolly, “He tried to kill me.”
That’s when Aida turns, recognizing Ana with a surprised smile. “Well, lookie here.” She lets out an unimpressed snort. “You’re all clean and not at all dead.” She rolls her eyes at Alejandra. “I couldn’t at all have predicted this turn of events. Oh, wait.” She pauses a moment, raising her brows in mock surprise. “Yep, I did too.”
Alejandra doesn’t smile, but her eyes crinkle in the corners.
Aileen can’t take her eyes off Alejandra. She blinks thoughtfully. “I know
you. You’re the one everyone’s talking about. Gambino’s girl.” A cruel smile stretches her lips. “You killed your husband.”
“No, I didn’t.” Ana responds too quickly, her cheeks flaming.
“Technically,” I cut in, “Ling killed him.”
Aileen shakes her head, eyeing Alejandra hard. “Your husband died but a heartbeat ago, and you’ve already taken vows to this one here?” She inclines her head to me. “Have you no shame, child?”
Aida straightens at that. “Taken vows?” Wide-eyed, she looks at me in shock. “Married?” She snorts in amusement. “That was fast, Mr. Carter, even for you.”
Alejandra pushes off from her place, leaning against the desk, and starts for Aileen, when I reach out to clutch her wrist and pull her back to me, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, across her chest, holding her to me.
My anger spikes, but the warmth of my wife’s body has a calming effect on me. “I don’t believe that’s anyone’s business.” I pin Aileen with a stare. “Especially not yours.” Without turning to face her, I state, “Aida, don’t you treat him. Not yet.” I spare a glance at Braden. “I came here for help. A deal was struck, and Braden offered his services in return for a favor of his choice. As far as I’m concerned, Connor’s life became forfeit when he pulled a gun on my wife. Now the choice is yours, Aileen.” I pause for a moment. “Lose another son by my hand, or surrender Braden’s favor in return for Connor’s life.”
Braden lets out a loud, forced groan. “Fucking hell.” He throws out a hand to where his injured brother sits, looking more than exasperated. “Kill him then. I don’t even like him that much!”
“Fuck off, you stupid git,” bellows Connor from the floor.
Aileen barks out, “Shut your bloody mouth, Brae.” She points to Connor. “That’s your blood there. You’ll not speak about your brother that way, understand? Family is everything.”
Shane closes his eyes tightly and moves to cover his mouth, but nobody misses the way the way his shoulders shake in soundless mirth.
Aileen sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose in annoyance. “Why’d you do it, Con?” She drops her hand, glaring at her son. “I never thought you’d do something so stupid.”
Connor grimaces as he shuffles to sit tall. “I didn’t know they was married, Mam.” He turns his dark gaze on Alejandra. “She’s got a bounty on her, this one. I thought to collect.”
A bounty.
Fuck.
People did ballsy things for money. This was one other thing I did not need on my plate right now. “How’d you get wind of this bounty?”