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With reluctance, he offers me his hand. Peering down at it, I accept his offering, sealing our fate forevermore.
With that done, I get down to business because I want this done now. “I want ya to organize a meetin’ with yer men. I also want names and addresses. Today. Let me know when yer ready.”
“Why?”
“’Cause they need to know we’re not fucking around. Each day is just another chance for Sean to brainwash more of yer men. We need them to know there are consequences if they wish to betray us. And those consequences will be paid with their lives.”
“I don’t think there’s many of them,” Brody naïvely states.
“Underestimating anyone is fucking stupid. It’ll cost ya yer life. Trust me, I know this firsthand. It only takes one of them to open their mouths, braggin’ ’bout how grand Sean is and what he can offer them that you can’t. There is no loyalty. Men will go where the money and security is. And I’m guessin’ a lot of these men used to work for the Kellys?”
Brody nods.
“Well, in that case, yer fucked. It’s just a matter of time.”
Brody inhales sharply, not accustomed to being told what to do. “The men in Dublin won’t appreciate taking orders from a Kelly. If anything, that’ll push them away. They’ll see me as a traitor for workin’ with the enemy.”
What he says is true, which gives me an idea.
“You let me take care of that. Just make sure ya send me what I’ve asked for.”
Brody shakes his head, his cheeks turning red in anger. “Don’t forget I’m still the one in charge,” he snarls, eyes narrowed. “Yer helpin’ me deal with a problem. Ye can disappear without a trace, so don’t think we’re in this together. Once Sean is gone, it’s fair game.”
“Ach, if that were true, I’d already be gone,” I arrogantly argue. “If Sean were merely a problem, he’d be dealt with by now. But he’s more than that. And ya know I’m the only person who can take him on.”
Brody reaches into the small of his back and pulls out a gun. He trains it on me, nostrils flared. “I should kill ya where ya stand,” he says, waiting for me to react.
I just stand still, unamused.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?”
“What does?” he barks, never taking the gun off me.
“The unknown,” I reply, stepping forward and pressing the gun to the middle of my chest. “If ya wanted me dead, I’d be dead already. So stop yer theatrics. Yer embarrassin’ yerself.”
“Fuck you,” he spits, shoving the gun into me.
“Not today, thanks. So if yer done, how ’bout we stop wastin’ time. Or have ye forgotten what Sean did to Erin? And how he’s belittled ya in front of yer men?”
Brody’s jaw clenches as he wrestles with not killing me where I stand. He needs me, and he fucking hates it. No doubt, there have been whispers about Sean throughout the years, but Brody is so fucking arrogant, he never believed his empire could crumble.
But now that it has, he realizes to win this war, he’s going to have to side with the enemy—me.
With utter hatred, he slowly retreats, keeping the gun in his hand. “I’ll be in touch about tonight.”
With a smile, I bask in the victory. It feels good to kick a dog when he’s down.
Brody hobbles off toward his car, clearly done with this conversation. He speeds away while I sarcastically wave goodbye.
Once he’s out of sight, I tip my face to the heavens and inhale. The first step toward revenge has been taken. I won’t count my chickens before they hatch, however, as Brody may still try to kill me. It’s obvious he’d rather work with anyone but me, but he needs me. As I need him.
Tonight’s meeting is for me to gauge who has been led astray because those are the weak men. They will crack under pressure, and I intend to bleed them for any information on Sean. I also hope to see some familiar faces because they’re traitors for siding with the Doyles, and they’ll be dealt with accordingly.
My mobile rings, interrupting visions of bloody revenge, but when I see it’s Rory phoning, I wonder if that’s the reason he’s calling.
“Bout ye?”
“Hey, Punky,” he says, his unease clear. “I wanted to clear the air with ya. Cami and I broke up. I wanted to tell ya. I also wanted to say how sorry I am for being a fucking eejit. I was angry with ya. Everythin’ went to shite when ya left. Everythin’ changed. Some for the better, but mostly for the worse.
