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Will shrugged. “Some rumors that he pulled a couple bank jobs earlier this year, small time stuff, just gossip.”

“Think it’s true?”

“Wouldn’t know,” Will said. “I’m not high enough on the food chain to be in on something like that. Not yet anyway.”

Nolan took a minute to process the information, trying to put it together with what Marchand had told him. It didn’t help. All he had were pieces of the same puzzle that didn’t seem to fit.

“Anything else?” Nolan asked.

“Is that why you called me out here?” Will asked. “So we could talk about work?”

“Seemed the best place to talk without eyes and ears on us,” Nolan said.

Will cursed. “Stop talking in fecking riddles and tell me what’s going on.”

“What if I told you I was in possession of information that Seamus is going to be the subject of an outside attack? One that will level his organization and result in a lot of casualties?”

“I’d tell you to get clear before I belt the shite out of you.”

Nolan shook his head. “I’m trying to look out for you here. You and Bridget.”

“Bridget? What does she have to do with anything?” Will asked.

“She works for Seamus too, and anyone who works for Seamus is going to be a target,” Nolan said.

Will stood and paced a few feet away from the merry-go-round before turning to face Nolan. “Why are you telling me this if you can’t give me enough information to protect myself or help Bridget?”

“I’m giving you what I can. You need to get out. So does Bridget.”

Will laughed. “That’s rich. Really. Typical.”

“What are you talking about?” Nolan asked. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Right.” Will nodded. “You’re trying to help me just like you always try to help — from afar, without getting your hands dirty.”

Anger bloomed in Nolan’s chest. “I was part of the Syndicate too. I got my hands dirty plenty.”

“That was then, mate.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nolan asked.

“It means that was back when you still bled red like the rest of us, before you went all downtown.”

Nolan stood and blew out his anger. “What was I supposed to do? Go to work for Seamus and see Bridget around the neighborhood every day to prove I still care?”

“Don’t be dim,” Will said. “You know what I’m talking about. You left us behind. Sure, you still slum it once a week, long enough to go a few rounds at Ryan’s or toss back a couple at The Chipp. But you’re gone, man. You’ve been gone a long time. So sorry if I’m not prostrating in gratitude for your little warning to get out.”

“I don’t expect gratitude. You’re my best friend. Bridget is… well, Bridget is Bridget. I don’t want anything to happen to either of you.”

“And you think we can run? That we can just drop everything and our lives will magically sort themselves out?” Will shook his head. “We’re not all Nolan Burke.”

“I’ll help.” Nolan was stung by the anger in Will’s voice, by the resentment that had obviously been unspoken between them for years. “I can bankroll you until you find something else.”

Will sighed, returned to the merry-go-round, and sat down so heavily the old metal groaned. “I don’t want your fecking money, Nolan.”

Nolan thought about what Marchand had said about needing someone on the inside, someone who could get the information the Syndicate needed to bring down Seamus. He couldn’t ask Will to do it, and not because of what Marchand had said about not being able to trust him. Nolan trusted Will with his life.

He couldn’t compromise Will because he couldn’t live with himself if Seamus found out, if Will ended up in the harbor because he was discovered to be a rat.

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