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“Got one of their boys out of a pinch of trouble.”
“Why?” Conor asked, his brow puckering.
“Because they asked me to. I was in one of their sushi joints and the fucking oyabun only walks out like he owns the place.”
“Which he does,” Eoghan said with a grin.
I grinned back. “Yeah, technically. Not sure if the owners of that fine establishment would agree though.” I elbowed Dec. “That place over on 55th Street. Their unakyu is to die for.”
“I’ll remember that and go visit. Wonder if the Yakuza’ll ask me to do something. I feel like getting a trinket from the homeland.”
Laughing, I said, “I doubt it. The staff looked as if they were going to piss themselves with him at one of their tables.”
“Why were you in their territory?”
“Didn’t you hear me? Their unakyu is to die for.”
“Worth braving Yakuza land? Jesus,” Conor muttered, before demanding, “How did he know you were dining there anyway?”
“I don’t know, Conor,” I retorted grumpily. “I just know that the head wondered if he could join me and when I agreed, quite civilly, asked me to get one of his boys an alibi.”
“Why did you agree?”
“I was feeling charitable,” I lied.
“Bullshit. You ain’t the charitable sort,” Aidan muttered, staring at his expensive leather Brionis.
I flipped him a bird he didn’t see. “There might have beensomeincentive.”
“What like?”
“What the fuck is this? Twenty Questions? I told Da before I did anything like a good little boy. He told me to go ahead because he wanted to cultivate a relationship with them.”
“Would have been nice to know that,” Declan groused.
“None of you could handle the shit I gotta deal with,” I rumbled. “Ever since dipshit over there started getting high all the time, my workload has tripled. Shit’s been getting worse too now we know about these Sparrow fuckers. Dunbar’s been in here, bitching about getting a tail, and I know Da’s been pulling the slack for you, Aidan. We’ve got more rats than a graveyard.”
Conor’s lips twitched. “About as many as in the library in The Last Crusade?”
I shook my head. “Now ain’t the time for Indiana Jones, bro.”
“There’s always time for Indy.” He grinned. “We need to watch a marathon over Thanksgiving weekend.”
We all snorted, but none of us bitched about his request. The ‘Indiana Jones’ series had been our favorite movies when we were kids, back when we’d been filled with fucking hope instead of the quagmire of misery we were steeped in now like some noxious tea.
“Anyways, I got a wife now,” I told them, getting back to the heart of the matter. “Something’s gotta give.”
We’d all been pussyfooting around my elder brother since the drive-by, but things were changing. We needed all hands on deck now.
“Speaking of,” Eoghan murmured, “since when were you and Cammie a thing?”
“What’s it got to do with you?” I folded my arms across my chest, not liking being interrogated, and not liking that Declan was nosing through my coin collection.
The majority of the coins were South African Krugerrands, but I’d bet my fucking ass there’d be an Asian one in there that he’d just have to have.
Younger brothers—couldn’t have jack without them wanting a piece of the action too.
“Everything. She’s my sister-in-law. Inessa’s concerned.”
