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“Well, if anyone could make a twenty-six-hour day, I’m pretty sure it’s an O'Donnelly.”
“You picked that fucking coin yet?” I demanded, knowing full well he had.
Bagpipes snorted. “Never said you didn’t pay us well. Just said that you can’t make extra minutes in a day.”
Wasn’t that the goddamn truth.
Pulling a face, I muttered, “Is she safe there?”
“Give her some credit, Bren. She’s Bratva. She knows how this stuff rolls. She’s as safe as she can be. She’s in the kitchen, not serving or anything.”
“How many days did she sign up for?”
“Five mornings a week.”
My brow crumpled at that. “Think this is some kind of penance?”
“Maybe, but I doubt it. It ain’t like she’s going around lashing herself over her da, is she? If anything, she’s happy the fucker’s dead.”
I thought about the hands that had given me a handjob this morning—there’d been no Band-Aids on them, so he was right. She wasn’t going through with her version of lashing herself. Neither had she asked about a funeral. The only request she’d made about her family was regarding the legalities of Victoria’s guardianship. I was looking into it even though Vasov’s death hadn’t exactly been made official, so it wasn’t like the State of New York even knew she was an orphan now.
Mouth turning down at the corners, I muttered, “It ain’t right her working there.”
“Why? Because it ain’t Doyle’s church?”
“I don’t know. She's a—” She was a queen. Why the fuck didn’t she get that?
“Maybe she’s just a nice person. I mean, if you talk to her for more than five minutes, I’m sure you’d pick up on that.”
“We talk,” I muttered. “Just not about this. Mostly about the family and—” A thought occurred to me. “You remember my Uncle Frank?”
“How couldn’t I? Remember that time he filled your da’s office with those rubber snakes?”
I grinned. “Thought he was gonna kill Frank.”
“Probably strangled him a bit. You know, like Bart and Homer Simpson?”
Chuckling, I agreed, “You’re probably right.”
“What about him?”
“Do you think Finn looks like him?”
Bagpipes fell silent. “I mean, I’ve never thought about it, but I guess so. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Frank’s picture though.”
I just hummed. “I wondered if Finn was one of Frank’s by blows. You know what he was like with the ladies.”
“A legend,” was the wry retort. “Aidan Sr. would know though. He’d have said something.”
“True.” I frowned, then turned back around and stared down at the factory floor from the office I was using at this depot we'd overtaken in Bed-Stuy. There, I faced Callum who was hanging from a meat hook. His head was lolling on his chest, but I could tell he was starting to stir. His shoulders were no longer straining under the deadweight of his body and that was jolting him awake as agony splintered down his arm.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just something that occurred to me is all.” I cleared my throat. “Anyway, you get off.”
“He spoken yet? I can’t believe I’m stuck here while you’re breaking that fucker.”
My lips curved into a grin. “You’re guarding treasure, Bagpipes. That’s important to me.”
