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“Good thing they don’t know who I am.”
Liam is about to clock me, but Brody grips his bicep.
“I said enough.” His tone is firm, hinting if Liam continues to defy him, he’ll suffer the consequences. “Our men need leaders. Not to see us arguin’ like a couple of aul’ weemin.”
“And ya think this cunt can do that?” Liam spits, looking at me.
“Flynn and Grady seem to think so,” Brody replies, looking at the two men I encountered earlier.
Liam doesn’t reply because his aul’ lad has a point.
“This all of them?” I ask, looking around the room.
“Naw, some are workin’. I couldn’t get everyone together on such short notice.”
“Blah, blah, fucking blah,” I exclaim, shaking my head. “You’re the boss, and last I checked, yer workers do what ya say. No wonder yer up shit creek without a paddle.”
Before they can give me their excuses, I clear my throat loudly, interrupting the soft chatter amongst the men. “Can I have yer attention, please?”
Some men give me their attention while others turn their lip up at me and continue talking. These men are like uncivilized animals that need taming.
Reaching into the small of my back for my gun, I find an uncouth animal laughing joyously, aim for his leg, and fire. The sound ricochets off the walls, as do the screams of the pussy who drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
The room suddenly becomes so still, I could hear a pin drop.
“Ya fucking cunt! Ya shot me!” he cries, rolling from side to side as he grips his leg.
“So I did,” I reply, using the butt of my gun to scratch my temple. “To be fair, I did ask for yer attention.”
“Brody! Who is this nutter?” someone asks, as Brody has obviously fallen into the good cop category.
“He’s my new partner,” he replies, and I can only imagine how that stung to say aloud. “Rumor has it some of youse have forgotten what loyalty is.”
Anger is replaced with nervousness as the men look between each other. Brody steps aside, indicating the floor is mine.
“That’s right,” I agree, folding my arms. “Now, before ya go denyin’ it, I want ya to know yer all guilty until proven otherwise.”
A ballbag steps forward, attempting to assert some authority. “What’s yer name?”
With a smirk, I counter, “Ya don’t need to know my name. We’re not friends. We’re not goin’ to go out and ’ave a pint. I know your names, however. I know where ya live. Who yer family are. I know what I need to.”
The men look amongst one another, clearly shaken up that a stranger has come into their territory and threatened them.
“If I discover any of youse are double-crossing us”—I pause and tongue my cheek—“it won’t end well for ya. I promise ya that. I’ll be keepin’ a close eye on youse. I’ll know when you eat, sleep, and when ya take a shite because that’s what a good leader does.
“They know where their men are.”
Brody clears this throat, clearly not impressed with my choice of words. But this is his fault, as it was Connor’s. I can’t help but compare this speech to the one I made to Connor’s men. I learned my lesson, though, and will not make the same mistake again.
“If I find out yer loyalty lies elsewhere, and I will find out, I’ll torture ya until ye speak, and when ya do, I’ll kill ya. Consider this yer first and only warnin’. Yer lucky I’m givin’ ya that. There are no second chances.”
They hate me, and that’s what I want. But above that, I want them to respect me. Fear only gets you so far, but earn the respect of a man, and he’ll be willing to die for you.
“Go home. Count yerself lucky ya came. The same can’t be said for the men who can’t follow orders.”
The men look confused, unsure if this is a trick. When I aim my gun, they realize it’s not.
They scatter like scared mice, not looking back as they make a dash for the exit. The man I shot is helped to his feet by his friends and hobbles out the door. Some men stand aside, clearly wanting to talk to Liam and Brody about what the fuck is going on.
