“I’m sending you Kate,” I say.
I’ve caught Fiona by surprise. She nods slowly, as if she’s tallying up a score. “Kate,” she finally says.
“You’ll be her only account. For now.”
Fiona’s lips twist; she’s clearly questioning thenow.
I bargain. “She’s as good a coder as I am. She broke into her first bank before she had her driver’s license.”
Fiona nods, starting to warm to the idea.
“She understands your…business model,” I say. “She grew up in the Canton Crew.”
Fiona’s eyes narrow. “Barry Lynch is a shitty captain.”
“Then you understand why Kate’s spent her entire life being an unmitigated pain in his ass.”
Fiona knows exactly what it means to be the underestimated daughter of an Irish mob boss. This time when she nods, she’s made her decision. “Kate,” she says. “And this is your last chance.”
We shake on it, and Fiona gets up to torment someone else in the Ring. Putting Kate on Fiona’s account is the perfect solution. I take out my phone to tell her precisely that.
9
KATE
Fiona Moran and the Old Colony Crew
You’re now in charge of their Lone Wolf account
The text is pure Cole. He’s in charge. He’s made a decision.
But there’s an entire encyclopedia of meaning behind the words. He assumes I have the coding skills to handle whatever issues come up for the Boston mob. He believes he and I are a team; we’re working together without second thoughts about what happened last night—my desperate need to safeword in the glorious dungeon he rebuilt for me, my eejit decision to fake.
In two short sentences, Cole has told me we’re fine.
Which is more than I can say about Granny and Breagha. I need to let them know about everything that happened at Sunday Roast. Squaring my shoulders, I head out the front door.
Drew Cameron glides to my side before my feet hit the drive. “I’m just going across the road,” I tell him. “To the carriage house.”
He gestures for me to lead the way.
“Alone,” I say.
“Not today.” He smiles as he says it, but I recognize the iron in his tone.
“You lot have cameras on both the properties,” I argue. “You can sit in the garage and watch me on the screen.”
“I’ll take you across the street and wait in the carriage house foyer.”
I don’t want him hearing a word I have to say about the mess up in Canton. I won’t air the Lynch clan’s dirty laundry in front of a feckin’ stranger. “You’ll see me through the gate and wait out on the road,” I order.
“At the carriage house door.”
“Outside.”
“Outside,” he agrees.
So much for my brilliant mood from Cole’s text. I stomp toward the gate, taking childish pride in my long strides as Drew scurries to catch up. I’m still in a mood when Mrs. Watson opens the carriage house door.
