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Chapter one
Saoirse’stearsfallontomy shoulder, dampening my white dress shirt. My sister is sobbing so hard that I can barely make out her words. She’s trying to tell me what’s upset her. Whatever’s happened, she’s so hysterical, she can’t even speak.
I’m surprised she even knocked on my door this evening. Usually, she runs to our youngest brother, Sean. They have the shortest age gap of only three years and as they grew up, they became inseparable. They’re the two youngest siblings out of five of us, and the only ones who weren’t subjected to this fucked up life the rest of us have led by the time they were thirteen.
I was fifteen when Saoirse was born, so we did very little of the big brother-little sister bonding. By that age, I was already in the family business with our Da, committing crimes more heinous than most normal adults could even imagine. Among those was murder.
The crimes started small. Theft at thirteen, selling drugs at fourteen. The first time I pulled a trigger, I was fifteen. I beat a man to death at sixteen and stabbed another at seventeen. By eighteen, Da had given me a $100,000 sports car, an apartment overlooking the harbor, and more cash than I could imagine.
The life we live isn’t for the weak. He hardened us to be cruel and calculated. He taught us never to trust anyone, to always watch our backs. It’s the Murphy’s against everyone else.
So, as I comfort my baby sister in my penthouse, I don’t question why she needs me. I only prepare myself to kill for her.
“What’s going on, Wildfire?” I call her by her childhood nickname in hopes she will calm enough to understand what she is saying through her tears.
Wildfire suits her. Her temperament matches her copper red curls, strong and uncontrollable like a flame. To see her so upset while I’m sitting on a chair and holding her is blindsiding. She can hold her own with each of us. Whatever happened to her is bad.
Bad enough she came to the oldest brother. The one who would kill for her without a second thought. All she’d have to do is tell me that someone looked at her the wrong way, and he’d have a bullet between his eyes.
As she cries, a hiccup escapes her. “It’s Liam.”
I shift in my seat so that she can’t sense the anger rushing through my body, making me tense. Liam is one of Da’s bodyguards. He’s my age, and a dumb fuck if I ever saw one. He can’t even do simple addition. Da had to pull him from our gambling books because he kept fucking up the totals, and lost twenty grand in a single evening. He’s made of solid brick, though, and Ma seems to like him. Da gave him another chance in the security department. If you ask me, it was a stupid move on Da’s part. The fucker may be built well enough to withstand a tornado, but his stupidity didn’t make him seem worth giving another chance.
And now, it seems he’s harmed my sister. Stupid. Fucking. Idiot.
Inhaling slowly to hide the anger in my tone, I say, “Liam Doyle?”
“Yes.”
My teeth grind. I know in my gut what she is about to say. Along with his incapability to do math, Liam is a little pervert, with an obsession for dating high school girls, like my sister. I never thought he’d go after the boss’s daughter, though. Saoirse should have been off limits. “Tell me what happened.”
“I thought he was being nice because he had to be,” she cries again, covering her mouth, “but then he started flirting with me and touching me.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“I already did.”
Fuck.My stomach drops. Saoirse’s always been a peacekeeper. The baby of the family, and a girl. Da’s never subjected her to the shit he made us boys do. “What did you do?”
“I hit him with my heel. In the eye. He fell. I don’t know if he’s breathing, Cal. I don’t know!”
Double fuck.If she’s already killed him, how will I dish out his punishment? I also don’t want a death on her conscience.
“Did he…” Having to ask her if she needs some type of emergency contraception, or an STD check, makes me cringe. “Did he force himself, Saoirse? Were you raped?”
She shakes her head viscously.
Thank fuck.“Where did this happen? Where is he?”
“In my bedroom. I left him there.”
“You stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
On the way to my parents’ place, I call my brothers to meet me at the warehouse.
Doyle’s screams envelop the empty warehouse as I dig my knife along his chest, deep enough to break a few layers of skin. The wound opens like sliced butter, and my lips twitch with satisfaction as the blood drips onto my navy suit.
Da always wears black. He says it’s easiest to hide the blood from Ma. I look better in navy, and don’t give a fuck about the blood. I have a million of these suits lining the closet in my penthouse. I’ll just burn it once I’m finished.
