“No. Well, no chatter indicates that. Mostly we know them as hired guns.”
“So Ballymena, a town with one KFC to its name, is currently home to five snipers? That’s what you’re telling me?”
“That’s what I’m telling you. It’s imperative that they be taken out today. Do you understand me?”
“I understand you.” Bet his gaping ass I fucking did. “What about the others in the area? Do I need to handle those?”
“We don’t care who makes the kill. Just make sure Johnathan and Siobhan Lenister die by the day’s end.”
When he cut the call, and Declan immediately rang, I grunted, shut off my phone, then turned my focus onto the Lenisters.
Knowing who they were, any guilt I could have felt at taking them out dispersed some. Handlers could bullshit with the best of them, but there was a logic in what he was saying.
It was one thing when the marks appeared to be peaceful hippies, but ECD foot soldiers? Those assholes had a special place in hell reserved for them.
For myself, I was honored to deliver them to the Devil’s waiting room.
Suddenly, the hours-long wait I had ahead of me, all while it drizzled, wasn’t that much of a chore.
Finn: How’s Ireland?
Eoghan: Rainy.
Finn: Lol. I thought that was what you wanted.
Eoghan: It was.
Finn: So the honeymoon is going well?
Eoghan: It is. The plan went awry. Inessa insisted on us seeing some sights, but it’s all good.
Eoghan: Out of curiosity, do you know why Declan keeps calling me?
Finn: No. Maybe answer the phone and you’ll find out?
Eoghan: If I answer the phone, then I have to deal with whatever crap he wants to offload onto my shoulders.
Finn: True. Want me to find out what’s going on?
Finn: In fact, don’t worry about it. Whatever he needs you for, I’ll handle it.
Eoghan: You sure?
Finn: I’m sure.
Eoghan: He won’t be calling me for anything pleasant, Finn.
Finn: I know. I said I’ll handle it. What are brothers for?
Eoghan: Appreciate that.
Finn: No problem.
Eoghan: I mean it—thank you.
Finn: You know what we talked about before you left?
Eoghan: The James Bond shit?
Finn: Yeah.
Eoghan: What about it?
Finn: You did the job?
Eoghan: I did.
Finn: You okay?
Eoghan: Stopped crying after missions when I was a kid, Finn. If that’s what you’re asking?
Finn: No. Never mind. Speak later and enjoy the rest of your honeymoon.
Eoghan: Thanks, bro.
Thirteen
Finn
“How much of an in do you have with Jen?”
I frowned at the question as Sam, my driver, pulled up outside Declan’s warehouse. “Aidan, what do you think? No one has an in with Jen. She’s about as prickly as a fucking cactus.”
Until I’d met Savannah, I thought Aoife was the only person in the city to like her best friend.
Jen was definitely not to everyone’s tastes.
“Well, I know that already, but Savannah came back home sobbing again.”
“She cries a lot, doesn’t she?”
“Fuck off,” Aidan grumbled. “She doesn’t cry a lot. You saw her after she was attacked. She didn’t shed a single tear.”
I had to concede that. Armed with a mop and a coffee table book, Savannah had defended herself from a home invader then, after she passed out because of a nasty fall, and had awoken surrounded by a bunch of mobsters, hadn’t even begged for her life.
Not a single time.
He was right—that took guts.
“What happened between them?” I asked. “Why did they fall out? Aoife won’t tell me shit.”
“Surprised you let her keep things from you.”
I snorted. “You’ve been with Savannah for about thirty seconds, so I’ll forgive you for uttering bullshit like that.”
He huffed. “It’s crazy.”
“What is?”
“The reason they fell out.”
“Spill it.”
“It’s crazy,” he repeated, but before I could grouse about him trying to up the suspense, he said, “But I had it confirmed. She wasn’t lying.”
“Who wasn’t lying? Savannah?” I asked disinterestedly as I scanned the warehouse’s yard.
Even dusted with snow, this place looked beyond industrial, and that wasn’t a compliment. This wouldn’t be featured in a magazine spread, that was for sure. It was grim. Grim as hell.
Sometimes, I pitied Declan and Brennan. They came face to face with the grittier side of the Five Points on a daily basis. That was a side I was glad to have left behind a long time ago.
“No, Jen,” Aidan grumbled. “Keep up. Jen wasn’t lying to me.”
“Keep up? You’re not speaking in full sentences. Say whatever you have to say, for fuck’s sake. I have shit I need to do.”
“Like what?”
“None of your business,” I sniped.
“I confronted Jen about the situation. Had what she told me confirmed.” He heaved a sigh. “She’s Padraig’s daughter, Finn.”
Eyes rounding, I blurted out, “Padraig as in your father’s brother Padraig?”
“Our father’s brother,” he corrected, and I winced.
“Our father’s brother,” I amended.
“AKA our uncle. Uncle Paddy.”
I was a smart man, some would say I was a financial wizard, but the simplicity of that statement had me shaking my head as I tried to process what he was saying.
It was simple. So simple. But nothing about my family ties were simple.
“Our uncle,” I repeated blankly. “Padraig is Jen’s father?”
“Yeah. She told me that, and I thought she was insane. So I had some of her DNA snagged, shipped it off, and got the confirmation. She’s an O’Donnelly.”
“Jesus fuck.”
“Pretty much.”
I let that roll around in my head before I asked, “What does that have to do with Jen and Savannah?”
“Apparently Savannah…” He heaved another sigh. “I swear, this is starting to feel like we’re back in high school.”
I had to laugh. “Been a long time since we were back there, Aidan.”
“True. I’m feeling every single fucking one of my years.”
“Jen does that to a man.” I smirked. “Actually, it’s fitting that she’s an O’Donnelly. Only O’Donnellys are this annoying and manage to survive past eighteen.”
His tone turned dark. “Savannah was looking into the O’Donnellys a couple years back. She uncovered a link between Padraig and Jen, went after Jen to get some DNA to confirm things, and inadvertently befriended her.”
“So Jen’s upset about how they met?”
“Yes.”
“How did she find out?”
“Savannah told her.”
“Well, that was fucking dumb.”
“Yeah. She ain’t been around us lying fuckers for long enough to realize that you don’t call your own bluff.”