“Tell me when you’re ready, little bird. Right now, I’ll settle with wrapping my arms around you every night as we fall asleep and keeping you till we wake up.”
She sniffles. “Oye, Kier, you don’t mean what you say.”
“Is that what youwant,lassie?”I stress. “Will you honestly tell me you’d rather be angry?”
“Good things never happen to me.”
“Ava.” My hands engulf her cheeks, clutching tightly.
“Here’s some honesty for you,” she says, “Sometimes, this is surreal. At others, a friggen nightmare.”
“I’m bloody trying here. The only one—”
“I get that. And now I’m saying,” she pauses, catty voice moved by a yawn, “who wouldn’t love to be happy, Kieran?”
“Good. We’ll figure out how, together. Not tonight, though. There’s nothing I want more than to hold my little bird as you sleep.”
* * *
After the year I’ve had, I bloody damn well forgot a good night’s slumber incites clarity. I’ve not heard a peep from Mam, no hallucinations or delusions, or the godforsaken crying. While my arms enclosed Ava, I slept like a wee bairn.Now, I’ve a bit of rope in my hands, and the corner of my mouth cocks. An image of a bound Ava flits through my mind.
Clearing my throat, I tug at the rope that’s anchored to the wall and looped around the ankles of Marty’s replacement. In the corner of a storage room in my home, Tybalt hangs upside down, praying to God I’ll spare him.
“Three indicates a routine, Tybalt,” I snarl through clenched teeth. “The nextmotherfeckerwho takes your place’ll think, ‘Hmmm, is the money worth my life?’ Then he’ll decline my proposition. The smart guy will take the gig that places him in a narrow box while I’m forced to pay the same commission to a lousy, halfwit nugget.Your incompetenceis ruining my reputation!”
I pause, pulling my cellphone from my pocket. Leith, the name of the second eldest MacKenzie son, flashes on the screen.
“Just the lad I’ve been waiting for.”
He whispers into the receiver, “Kieran, I asked you to put a pen in this discussion until the end of the week.”
“No.” I settle on a crate of Christmas items.
“Have youoffedMarty?”
Eyes rolling away from Tybalt, I retort, “Technically—”
“A yes or no will suffice.”
“Marty’s dead. I ranged you about it the other day. Get your head out of the rodent’sarse!”
“You were in one ear while my weewean, Mia, was complaining the other day. Moreover, Mickey Mouse isn’t—”
“And tell me the big news you have, Leith!” I tug at the rope, causing Tybalt’s arms and hands to flop like a dead fish.
“It wasn’t big news per se. Well, not where you’d need to dead another referral of mine. I can’t keep doing this to the guys. Saying, ‘Hey, a mate of mine has a gig for you. Top bloody pay.’ Then they say, ‘Brother, sounds too good to be true.’ While I assure them working for a lad namedKieran—which doesn’t sound like much of a blessing,the dark one, by the way—I double down with “Yup.’ Yeah. Uh huhhhh. No catch.” Leith pauses in his rant to snort. “Big, bloodyfeckingcatch. You kill them! Kier, thatshite’sgutting my soul.”
“You done, mate?”
Leith snorts, “I suppose so.”
I fork a hand through my hair. “Tybalt and I were having a blether about that very subject.”
“And you have a gun to his head?”
With a triumphant grin, I reply, “No. Actually.”
“Cut thebullshite.”