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“They killed someone?” Rage buzzed inside my brain.
“Yeah. One of the girls. Made a real mess of her. It’s a message.”
“It’s a fucking catalyst.” Rubbing my temple, I grated out, “You need me there?”
“No. But Da wanted me to tell you there’s a meeting tomorrow at four AM.”
“Got it.” I didn’t wince at the timing. Aidan worked all hours, and we’d grown accustomed to that a long time ago. “The house or his office?”
“House. He’s too pissed to go in. I suggested we stay at the house.”
What that meant was ‘Aidan couldn’t be around anyone that wasn’t family without wanting to throttle them.’
Aidan had trust issues. Quite naturally, I thought, but those trust issues reared their head when there was a threat. This was a level ten on our Richter scale of disasters, and that meant Aidan would go off half-cocked on anyone he thought might be working against us.
We routinely flushed out rats. Be they DEA, NYPD, FBI, or even other spies from other gangs, but at times like these, there could be a witch hunt brewing, and spreading our focus would do none of us any good. Keeping Aidan at home would work to our advantage in that.
Aidan was capable of intense hyper-focus. We just needed to make sure that was aimed at the outside threats first and foremost.
“I’ll be there.”
“See ya, bro.”
We cut the line, and I stared down at my lap for a second, not wanting to lift my head just yet. When I heard soft steps, I peered over at Aoife and asked, “You hear any of that?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Was I supposed to?”
I tilted my head to the side. “Good question. To me, you can say yes. If Aidan or my brothers ever ask you that, you say no. You play dumb. Got me? You’re safe with them, but not with Aidan Sr. He’s a live wire.”
She grimaced. “You think I hadn’t figured that out?”
“You’re too smart for your own good.” I scraped my hand over my head. “If they ever ask you a direct question, don’t lie. If you think you can, prevaricate.” The no-lie rule wasn’t just for the men but for their women, too. “Aidan isn’t a total sexist prick, but he has outdated ideas. If you act like you can’t add two plus two, he’ll skim over you and look at me to answer any questions.”
“That sucks.”
“That’s life in the Five Points.” I blew out a breath. “Look, about tomorrow morning–”
She waved a hand. “I don’t need a ring.”
“You fucking do,” I growled at her. “I want everyone to know you’re mine, Aoife.” More than anything, I wanted her father to see the ring when she visited him in the afternoon.
Her lips curved. “Want a tattoo on my forehead? Property of Finn?”
“Finn O’Grady,” I corrected. “Let’s make sure they know not to fuck with you.”
She smirked, and her smart-assery lightened my heart some. I hadn’t expected this resilience from her. She wasn’t panicking, and she had overheard some heavy shit.
After clearing her throat, she asked, “Who died?”
“One of our girls.”
A grimace marred her face. Most women in the life never liked to think about the prostitution racket that was part of the Family’s side business. It wasn’t something I liked either, truth be told.
Having been abused myself, I hated to think of anyone in that position, but Aidan ran a tight ship. We protected the girls, paid them well. We had a ring of girls to suit any and all pay ranges, and fuck, if any of the Johns, be they millionaires or misers, hurt one of our own? They paid the price. Dearly.
I knew whoever had been foolish enough to hurt this particular whore would probably have their balls cut off before they died.
Having seen Aidan do it before, I was under no illusion he’d do it again. And worse. Especially if there was a tie to the Colombians as Declan suggested.
