Page 24 of Inflict

“This isn’t a visit, it’s a requirement. One I don’t care for.”

Lachlan cleared his throat, and resituated himself on the chair. “Come on, now, Connor. Be nice.”

Sean waved a hand. “Quiet, Lachlan. Connor is just … being Connor.”

Right.

Connor smirked.

The only emotion Connor had ever been able to count on where Sean was concerned, was irritation. Other than that, he was sure the man felt absolutely nothing. He was a living, walking, breathing chunk of feckin’ ice that never melted, not even in the dead heat of the summer.

He’d taken beating after beating from his father, and never once saw more than a sneer cross the man’s lips while he did it—certainly not anger, or even disappointment. He’d seen his father bury men he thought Sean might consider to be close friends, and not show an ounce of sadness for the loss. And on that vein, he’d watched Sean put bullets between the eyes of men he’d commended or praised one day, and then discarded the next, without a moment’s worth of hesitation.

Sean felt nothing.

He cared for no one.

His father had only wanted one thing where Connor was concerned, and that was for his son to be, act, behave, react, and see life around them in the same way Sean did.

Perhaps in some ways, Sean had succeeded in those goals. Connor was more like his father than he was willing to admit. He had that same taste for blood. He was prone to violence just as easily, and as viciously as his father. Not for the same reasons Sean liked it, though. Connor knew how simple it was to get what he wanted, when he could make someone else hurt for it.

And while Connor shared his father’s general disinterest, distrust, and uncaring attitude for people and life, he knew the truth was clear. There were more than enough differences between he and his father to keep them distant from one another.

Sean didn’t feel. Connor did, even if his father had conditioned the natural reactions of emotions out of him, for the most part.

Sean sighed, appearing almost bored with the entire conversation. “We can’t have even one pleasant conversation, can we, lad?”

Connor shrugged. “Where’s the fun in that?”

His father reached for the tumbler of whiskey on the side of his desk, taking a hearty swig before resting back in his chair once more. “All right, let’s get this over with, then, since you’re so determined to work every nerve I have this morning. What do you have for me?”

“Nothing of much interest. Same cac, different day.”

“I doubt that, lad. You always have something.”

More than anything, Connor just wanted to get the hell out of that office, and as far away from his father as he could possibly be. He hated being a spy of sorts for Sean—acting as a friend or comrade to his father’s men, or even the associates the O’Neil family had between Jersey and New York.

Most times, he was just a spy, reporting back to Sean on deals going down between other gangs or organizations in their areas. Or even gossip, if the talk was interesting enough. Sean liked it all, because he used it all.

Connor didn’t care for any of it. He didn’t want any part of it.

Sean didn’t give him a choice.

“I do have until noon,” Sean mused, almost smiling.

Connor didn’t have much to tell, honestly, but he had to give his father something that would be to Sean’s interest, or he’d be locked there in a staring contest until lunch. “That whorehouse in Queens …”

“What about it?” Lachlan asked.

“Might as well take the loss; it’s a glorified crackhouse, now,” Connor said, his attention turning to his father. “David got too interested in keeping the women compliant. The only customers they’re getting up in there aren’t paying enough to keep the power on, what with the money he spends on drugs they’re using.”

“Does—”

“Tim knows,” Connor interrupted Lachlan before the man could jump in to try and defend the Lieutenant. “It’s been a happening for a while, apparently.”

Connor had only tacked that bit on at the end to keep his father from thinking he had hid the information. He had, but he didn’t need Sean knowing that.

Sometimes, saving something for a rainy day was best.