Page List


Font:  

“Jesus Christ,” I ground out. “You can’t be serious?”

Tink shrugged. “What do you want me to tell you? The bastard’s whining about a shipment of some kind of fucking snake that’s gone missing. He wants your help with Customs.”

“Pass him on to Da. He’s the one with friends there.”

Tinker’s eyes widened a little before he smirked. “He’ll love you for that. Shouldn’t you get him on your good side if you’re about to—”

I raised a hand to stop him from finishing that sentence, then glowered at him. “Shut the fuck up, Tink. Christ, we’ve got enemies in our midst.”

“They’re upstairs,” he argued, but he did as I wanted—shut his trap.

Loose lipsand all that.

My den of inequity had once been a haulage warehouse before Da had gotten his paws on it, but Uncle Paddy, his brother, had reno-ed it to the hilt before he got shot by an Albanian back when I was thirteen. Now, it looked like an eighties’ bordello, but I wasn’t interested enough in the building to change anything.

Bright red walls with intricate brocade detailing in black, brassy gold light fittings, and a rich crimson carpet that had worn down over time—a hooker would more than feel at home in this shitpile.

I walked up the stairs to my office, the only room I’d adjusted thanks to the invention of the Internet, and as I opened the door, murmured, “Send Dunbar in first. Tell Isaac to go to Da.”

“I thought you were joking,” Tink muttered.

“No. I’m not dealing with Customs Enforcement or who the fuck ever over a bunch of goddamn snakes. Da’s got more time on his hands than I do.”

“Yeah, but you’re not the one who’ll have to handle Senior when he blows up over Isaac calling him.”

My lips curved into a gleeful smile. “That’s what happens when you forget to get Mary-Joseph an anniversary present.”

His eyes narrowed upon me. “You’re fucking with me. She got you involved?”

“I’m a friend of the family, ain’t I?” My grin widened. “Serves you right.”

A storm cloud crossed over his face before he grumbled, “Motherfucker,” under his breath and hurried over to the unofficial waiting room.

With Baggy at my back, I slipped into the office and walked directly to my desk. As I took a seat, I saw Baggy was laughing too.

“Brennan, the savior of Pointer’s womenfolk.”

I mockingly wafted my hand, waving like a royal would. “Just send my info to the Vatican. I’m sure they’ll be ready to canonize me.”

“I’ll bet.” Baggy snickered, then his tone dropped. “You noticed Tink’s been quiet?”

Shrugging, I admitted, “Wasn’t altogether surprised to get that call from Mary-Joseph, no.”

“Think they’re having marriage troubles?” Baggy rubbed his chin. “She’s a cunt, but he ain’t much better. Love the man like a brother, but wouldn’t want to be married to him.”

I snorted. “Me either. But, whatever it is, ain’t like they can divorce. Just got to put up and shut up.”

“That’s what I don’t get, man. You’re fucking free to do what you want. Your dad ain’t tugging on you to get married, so why are you tying the knot when you don’t have to? We’re all stuck with our women until death do us part, and let’s face it, they’re going to be the ones who survive us so they’re the ones who get to dance on our graves even if they make us fucking miserable.”

I knew he was right.

I did.

But...

“It’s time.”

That was as much as I’d give him, and it was just enough because a knock sounded at the door a few seconds later.

Baggy opened it, and in the hall, the corrupt bitch who’d almost cost my nephew his life stood there, both scowling at me and hovering like she was too afraid to do anything about it.

She was a Fed, which technically gave her power, but the O’Donnellys existed in a parallel universe of technicalities.

One pissant Federal agent meant jack shit to us, what with Da having the Director on speed dial. And yeah, that was the kind of phone the old man had. God forbid we trusted him with a smartphone.

Rocking back in my desk chair, I nudged the mouse to wake up my computer as I called out, “This had better be good, Dunbar. I thought Declan made it very clear that you weren’t to get in touch without good reason.”

Her jaw tensed. “Trust me, I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Curious now, I arched a brow. “Do tell.”


Tags: Serena Akeroyd Five Points' Mob Collection Erotic