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"You said MacMurray’s high?" Conor queried, his tone belligerent.
"He is."
"Has he come down yet?"
"No. He only stopped behaving like a lunatic when one of my security guys pistol-whipped him." Grainne sucked in a breath. "Red is a volatile drug, especially after repeated use."
I’d heard whispers of it, but it was a rare commodity at the moment.
"You’re coming across it often?" I delved, my curiosity stoked.
"Sadly." She cleared her throat. "It makes men ‘last’ longer. You can understand why they’d want that when we charge by the hour."
Eoghan snorted. "MacMurray can’t keep it up without drugs?"
Declan and Brennan snickered, but even though I was amused too—Cain was the biggest jerk-off in Hell’s Kitchen. The way he talked, you’d think he was walking around with a baseball bat for a dick—my concerns were aimed elsewhere.
"Hence Red’s popularity," she murmured, her eyes still locked on mine.
"I heard that it makes users more aggressive over time?"
She nodded.
Curious.
"MacMurray’s been a regular client for years. The last time he was here, his girl complained that he was getting aggressive. I fined him heavily as per your father’s instructions, and he hasn’t been back for at least a month."
Even curiouser.
"What did Meggie have to say about Keegan?"
She blinked at the change of topic but commented simply, "He was injured."
"How?"
"Meggie said…" She hesitated, but Grainne was clearly smart because she chose the truth, and she chose to survive tonight’s meeting. "…he had a bullet wound on his shoulder."
Conor tensed. "But he was okay to fuck?"
"Maybe he was on Red too," Eoghan muttered under his breath.
"According to her, it was only a flesh wound."
"Was it fresh?"
"Unfortunately for you, I didn’t send Hilary. She’s pre-med," Grainne retorted. "Meggie’s an art historian. The closest she’s come to a bullet wound is tonight, and she doesn’t have a clue about those kinds of injuries."
Keegan had gone underground in the aftermath of my father’s shooting.
We’d know.
We’d had the entire city swept for him.
That had to mean he’d gotten shot either while he was in hiding—so one of hischeilebrethren was behind it—or he’d taken a bullet in the cemetery.
Which meant someone else had been there,watching.Waiting for Keegan to take his shot, to wipe my father and the First Lady off the face of the planet.
Unfortunately, their aim wasn’t as good as his.
