I sigh. Local. Good. We don’t carry any illegal shipments in the general area.
“Hold on. Bràthair?” In the background, James calls to Firth. “Eddy’s calling Blythe.”
“James,” I growl. I glance over to Kieran, who continues to nurse his beer. This whole thing wreaks of a setup. “Text me when everything’s clean.”
I roll my massive shoulders, returning to the same table as my enemy.
“Everything good?” Kieran asks.
I sneer, “Women.”
“I’ll not settle down.” He scrunches his brows together. “Och, I was saying, I just got in from Boston. Anyway, Hank’s leash is shorter.”
I glare through him. Blythe, James, my entire clan believed in ye.“Ewan care about all of this?”
His look says nae. He nods slowly. “Eh, he should. I do, Brody. I even had some of the hired hands searching for Wilmer. I’ll find him for ye. I owned Boston! Ya know?”
“Aye.”
His stony voice breaks. “After my mam died—”
I help the lad with the excuses. “It hurt Ewan, made him worse.”
“Aye, cut the fecking sarcasm, though. When I left Boston.” He shrugs, muttering how Bawbag Hank has fecked up more than we know.
Like wit? I stop myself from asking my mate. When I do, there will be a military-grade weapon trained at his face.
“Anyway,” Kieran begins, finishing off another bevvy. “I’ll find Wilmer. I’m returning to Boston to stay.”
“Nae need. And I’m referring to Wilmer. Ye can sit on the throne there, all ye like, Kieran.”
“Brody, I’m trying here.” Kieran punches at his chest. “Ewan might be in the wrong frame of mind, but ye have an ally in Clan McFarland.”
“Och, ye suffering yer mam’s death—I’d be gutted too. But how does Ewan get all the passes?”
“I keep telling ya, Brody—”
I scoff. “Still nae need. My cousin James brought me Wilmer. Lesson learned for him.”
Kieran’s lips curve into a sinister smile, and he pats my shoulder. “Good. But ye know, if I had found the lad, he would’ve found death before finding ye.”
“Aye, ye are good to me, clan,” I clip out.
“The lass safe?” He asks of Justice. “Wilmer never got to her, I was told. The idiot messing with her in the first place has disappeared. I have some guys on that too.”
“Aye and aye.”
“So, I guess I’m here for a fecking engagement celebration, aye?” He settles farther into the seat. “My old mate, my cousin, I’m at a loss for words. Listen, I think we all need to have that conversation Ewan wanted to schedule.”
I almost feel sorry for my decision to gut the lad until this precise second. Stoic, I stab each word. “An appointment to chat.” I almost blew up Ewan’s estate over that fecking appointment clause. Now ye bring it up?
“Aye. There’s something Ewan should tell Brody Boy and Nan.” His face twists, but he carries his cards close to his chest—fecking liar.