Aidan straightened his stance and looked him in the eye. “Yes,” he paused, “but I was running errands for you. So I sent someone else to check on her.”
“Who?” Connie choked out. He felt his rage slowly beginning to strangle him. His breaths came out short and close together. “WHO?” he shrieked.
Aidan’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “O’Fallon.”
Connie’s whole body began shaking. He closed his eyes for a second and let out an insane cackle. He was on the brink of a mental break. “Fucking O’Fallon. You sent fucking O’ Fallon.”
Aidan shrugged. “He was the only one that was available.”
“You idiot!” Connie shook his head. “You fucking moron!” It was that moment, that Connie felt the thread holding his sanity together snap. And in one swift motion he yanked his gun out from the holder beneath his desk and shot Aidan in chest.
Aidan’s face went white. He wore shock on his features like a tight-fitting mask. Then he hit his knees and slumped over, his face planted into the hard-wood floor.
Gun still in hand, Connie walked out from around his desk and stopped at Aidan’s body. He kicked him gently in the side, his eyes centered on Aidan’s right hand. When his fingers twitched, Connie moved toward the open door. He didn’t want to kill Aidan. Maybe just puncture a lung to teach him a lesson for acting so foolishly. On top of that, he couldn’t kill him. He needed his Intel for anything police or fed related.
On a rampage, he stormed through the meeting room, shoving his gun in the back of his pants. A few new recruits for the brotherhood sat around bullshitting and pointed at a young one with black hair, “You!” he pointed at the boy. “Call an ambulance.”
The kid pulled his phone from his pocket and Connie watched as he dialed 911. He waited until the boy started giving the address before he started for the exit. He only had one thing on his mind.
Find fucking O’Fallon and decorate the sidewalk with the fragments of his brain.