Five
Brennan
The rideback to the city was a pain in the ass. A necessary evil since we’d moved the folks upstate for their safety, but a pain nonetheless.
Because Aidan Jr. was a fuckwit and wasn’t pulling his weight, I was the one managing his load as well as my own, and that load wasn’t exactly fucking light. Not in the middle of a war. Not with all this shit going down with the New World Sparrows.
Goddamn Sparrows.
Who named a secret organization after a fucking bird?
A tiny little fucker too.
Not a dirty great eagle or some kind of vulture, but a sparrow?
Shaking my head, I settled into my seat for the annoying, traffic-jammed ride ahead. One hand on the steering wheel, the other leaning on the door of my Mercedes-Maybach GLS600, which was just fresh in and still with that new car smell. Driving down the highway toward home, I tapped a button on my steering wheel which had the music soaring so loud it made my ears ring.
Audioslave.
No better soundtrack to cure me of my fucking mood.
What with the birds, those greasy Italians, and a fiancée who didn’t know I was stalking her ass, who didn't even know she was my fiancée, and Ma who was going all ‘one flew over the cuckoo’s nest’—birds were fucking haunting me at the moment—I needed something to stop my ears from bleeding.
Tension lines bracketed my mouth as I scanned the rear-view mirror, checking on who was following me. I usually had a Fed tail, but I didn’t mind because we had the Director in our pocket, and I preferred them there. It was easier when they were out in the open, made it simpler to control the fuckers.
Of course, they didn’t mean to be so visible, but the useless pieces of shit needed to go back to Quantico because I could tail someone better in my fucking sleep.
Before I’d climbed into my new SUV, Forrest had confirmed Coullson’s location, which made that my end destination.
Just because I wanted to head to the stables in Forest Park didn’t mean I could.
I had outstanding debts that were racking up, debts that had been as much on my shoulders as whatever sins were weighing down Ma.
Funny how the shit you got up to as a kid could come back and haunt your ass when you least expected it.
The Russians and the Irish had always been enemies.
I’d never thought that would change.
Then, shit had.
The Colombians had tried to gun down the family at Finn’s wedding, and we’d teamed up with the Russians to stamp them out. Ever since, we’d been on a recruitment drive, and with our numbers finally healthy—economic downturns were always great for getting people onto the wrong side of the tracks—we no longer needed our allies as much, but that didn’t mean we weren’t stuck with them now.
Eoghan was married to one of them.
Not just fucking married, either.He loved her. It was clear whenever he looked at Inessa. The possessive stamp on his face, the way his hand rested on her, how he was always turned into her, an arm slung about her shoulders, around her waist...
My baby brother had an issue with sharing and hand-me-downs.
Inessa was his. No one else’s. And whenever he was with the family, he made that clear.
I’d just never thought that Mariska’s daughter would be my sister-in-law.
And I never thought, that last day in our usual room in the Ritz-Carlton, when we’d split up, my body nearly broken from the beating Da had given me when he’d found out who I was screwing, the promise she’d made me give her would come to pass.
As enemies, there wasn’t shit I could do to help.
And that wasn’t me being a chicken shit either.