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Chapter 1
Ronan
I circle the room, my eyes focussed on the centre. It’s a mid-size room, solid brick, no windows, and no obvious features. It’s situated at the back of a large derelict warehouse in the south side of the city. Even though I checked the drainage in here, I’ve still covered the place in clear plastic.
There is a clean-up crew I can use, but as I have no idea who is loyal to Liam and who is loyal to us, I’d rather handle that shit myself, it’s safer that way.
After doing a full circle, I come to a stop, admiring my work. It takes precision and patience to carry out the kind of work that I do. But you also need to be able to flip a switch, turning off your feelings to do what it is I do.
I know I’m different, Da always told me I was, and that’s why he taught me the skills he did.
I’m good at what I do because he showed me how to do it. He said he saw it in me the day I snuck into the basement of his office. I was fifteen. I stood at the door and watched as he and his right-hand man, Darragh, tortured two of their enemies. They had them secured to two tables, both men had all of their fingers and toes removed, and I heard Darragh say, “He’s done.” The guy on the table at the right of the door was dead, so he and Da focussed on the other guy.
I watched as they made small cuts across this guy’s body and watched him bleed slowly, and then they poured gasoline into the cut. The man winced but didn’t scream. I never understood why he didn’t beg them to stop or why he never screamed in pain. It wasn’t until years later that I learnt the reason he didn’t scream was that he’d been taught to withstand torture.
I watched for about another hour before they realised I was there. I never made a sound.
Da pulled me into the room and he asked me if I was okay and how I was feeling. I just shrugged my shoulders. It was then that he knew I was different. I watched as he and Darragh killed the man when they realised they weren’t going to get anything more out of him.
After that night, he helped me hone my skills and made me into the man I am today. And it’s because of those skills that my brothers call on me when there is trouble, or they need something fixed.
Da called me the family protector, the one everyone called on when they needed saving. But he was wrong, I failed. I failed him… I failed Aoife, and now… I’ve failed Rory. He was my twin, I should have protected him, I should have saved him, but I didn’t. He’s dead because I failed him.
I watched the security footage from the night he was killed. I watched it over and over and over again––the fuckers breaking in, the beating he took. Then I watched Liam smile as he pulled the trigger. He fucking smiled… killing his own cousin.
I mentally shake myself free of the thought. I don’t have time to be distracted right now. I need answers, and Jeff only has a few minutes left to give me them.
“I’m tired and I want answers, so the quicker you give me those answers, the quicker this is over for you.”
Jeff whimpers in his restraints. I have him chained up like a starfish––this room is set up for this, and we have fixings on the floor, the walls and the ceiling. There is a cupboard in the corner with hundreds of weapons in there, and a couple of tables against the wall––one table we use for strapping someone down, the other has weapons laid out across it. It’s an impressive room, but not as impressive as the one I have set up in New York.
I cock my head to the side, watching Jeff. There are injuries on his body I don’t remember making, but I must have. He’s been here for three days, and when I secured him, he didn’t have those markings.
I prod him on his bare chest. He’s still alive, but only just. I look him in the eyes, and I see it––the fear. He doesn’t know anything, there is nothing left to tell me. I shake my head, disappointed. It’s time to put this fucker out of his misery.
I pull out my knife and I see the relief in his eyes just as I slit his throat.
Watching him bleed out, I let out a breath. I’ve been in Chicago for eleven days now. I’ve ‘spoken’ to four of Liam’s closest men and none of them could tell me anything about him or J. Nobody seems to have any idea where those fucking snakes have slithered off too.
I need some relief, and I thought killing Jeff would give me that, but it didn’t. I was expecting some answers before I killed him, but I didn’t get those either, and now I’m pissed.
She’ll help, she’ll give me what I need tonight. I’ll find my relief with her. I spend the next two hours cleaning up before I head to the bar, to her.
* * *
I walk through the door and head straight for the bar, taking a seat, checking behind the counter as I do. I don’t see her. I’m too focussed searching for her that I don’t see Diane approach.
“Hey, handsome, what can I get you?”
I look at her and then I look around the rest of the bar. She’s pretty, about five foot seven, brown eyes, and black hair with pink streaks running through it. Her complexion is pale, and she shouldn’t be able to pull off the dark hair, but she can. I notice her lips; she has that ‘come fuck me’ red lipstick on again, and I find myself wondering what they would look like wrapped around my dick. She’s young but she talks and acts so much older. She’s petite, but her tits are massive… pretty sure they are fake, they don’t move no matter what she’s doing. I give myself a shake mentally––she’s not my type. Besides, I’m here tonight for one woman only.
“She’s running a little late, sugar; she’ll be here in about thirty minutes. What can I get you while you wait?”
I look back at Diane and relax a little. “Whiskey, Jameson, treble.”
She nods and goes to grab my drink.
I’m sat in a booth at the back of the bar, and I can see the door from where I’m sitting, but the angle I’m at means nobody can see me unless they are looking for me.
