Page 97 of Lawless Rivals

“Junior wants a word with ya,” Shay goes on. “He said it’s not like you to disappear.”

“He can go fuck himself.”

I drag a hand through my hair and glance around the yard, thinking about our next move, the pressure points, where the plan tightens and where it breaks.

“I’ll stay in the tin for the next few days,” I say. “Out of the way. You can reach me on the radio as usual.”

Shay nods.

Boots scuff behind us, and Dane comes into view first, then Rafe, both of them clocking Keira.

Rafe shoves his hands into his jeans’ pockets. His gaze lands on her and stays there.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” he says. “Thought Ma wanted her gone?”

I dig out my smokes and light one.

“You don’t need to understand it,” I say, exhaling a lungful of smoke.

Rafe glares at me for a beat, and I can tell he’s deciding whether to push or leave it.

He exhales through his nose, not happy about my one-liner, but smart enough not to take it further.

Dane’s eyes flick between us, taking it all in, then he shakes his head and sighs.

“After last night, her old man will think better of sending his men to our yard,” he mutters. “Those fuckers are lucky to be alive.”

“He won’t sit still either.” Shay repositions his cap. “He’s not a man who likes to lose.”

Keira folds her arms across her chest and widens her stance.

“We keep everything tight,” I tell them. “No loose ends, no stupid moves. If the Crowleys want to sniff around, let them. They won’t get anything we don’t give.”

“And her old man?” Rafe asks.

“We don’t go near him,” I say, looking past them out across the yard. “He’ll be waiting for us to react.”

Rafe scratches his jaw as he thinks. “So what? We just sit on it? Pretend his men weren’t here shooting shit up. Fuck sakes, Saint, they could’ve hit Sera.”

“That’s what we pay Shay for.” I nod to my left, and Shay nods back. “So rather than be obvious about it, let’s make Harrington’s friends regret being in his pocket.”

“What d’ya mean?” Rafe lights a cigarette. “You talkin’ about the bookies?”

“There’s money of his running through Black Heath that doesn’t touch him directly,” I go on, already lining it up in my head, the flow of it, the men who think they’re insulated because they play golf with him. “Accounts that build, bets that get stretched, extra credit we extend because we know what it gives us.”

Dane rubs his hands together. “You wanna pull it all?”

“Bit by bit,” I say. “Strangle them enough to notice, so they feel the pressure.”

Rafe lets out a deep chuckle. “Fucking genius, Saint.”

I look between them, making sure they’re following the whole plan.

“We don’t give them any warning or special favors. Whatever payment extensions they had are up. Every man tied to Harrington who’s been playing like they’re untouchable wakes up owing a debt deeper than their pockets.”

“And they’ll go straight to him,” Shay says, already there.

“They’ll blame him,” I correct. “Because he’s the reason they’re drowning.”