Cillian
Kinahan scum.
Those bastards have rudely interrupted my little tête-à-tête with the fieriest redhead I’ve ever met.
Perfect fucking timing.
My brother is still inside, conducting what should have been a routine cash collection.
But I can already tell that our simple little errand just got a fuck-ton more complicated.
I walk down the thin alley that connects the backyard to the front of the house—just in time to see Brody Murtagh step out of the hulking jeep.
He’s wearing black jeans, an oversized black t-shirt, and a bunch of thick gold chains draped around his neck. The whole ensemble makes me roll my eyes.
Looks like the prick sent away to a magazine for “The 21st Century Wannabe Gangster Outfit.”
I risk a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure Saoirse has stayed in the backyard like I’ve told her to. Something tells me she doesn’t follow instructions well.
Miraculously, I don’t see her.
I’m more relieved than I should be, considering we met half an hour ago.
“Brody,” I drawl, positioning myself right in front of the door. “Fancy running into you here.”
He swaggers forward with two goons at his back. Three Kinahans in total.
My smile grows a little wider.
That’s about three too many for my liking. But dealing with these gobshites will be a piece of fucking cake.
My hand doesn’t even twitch towards the gun in my back pocket. Easy does it. Especially with the Murtagh runt at the helm of this little rebel wannabe clique.
He can dress like a gangster all he wants, but he’ll never be true mafia.
He bought his way into the Kinahan organization thanks to his father’s money and influence. Their loyalty is paid for.
In my opinion, that makes it fucking worthless.
If loyalty can be bought for a sum, it can be broken for a penny more.
“O’Sullivan,” he growls.
The corners of his mouth turn up in a grimace that might be an attempt at an intimidating smile. I’m not entirely sure. The overall effect just makes me queasy.
“What are you doing here?”
I sigh with exaggeration. “I’m guessing you already know,” I retort. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Are you the guard dog then?” Brody taunts.
I shrug. “I’m whatever I have to be when my family needs me.”
I learned early that one of my superpowers is indifference.
If you act like nothing bothers you, then at some point, it’s gonna piss off the people who’re trying their damndest to get a rise out of you.
“Not a very good watchdog if you’re lurking in the back with your tail between your legs,” Brody chuckles.