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He flashes an easy smile. “Looks that way.”
I take a beat and mull it over. The Russian mafia makes the Dullahans and the Irish mob look like rank amateurs. They’re a criminal organization that borders on a shadow government. Even united, I don’t know if we have a chance in hell of taking them out, but without the O’Connor family backing the Dullahans, our club is history.
I bury my face in the crook of his neck. “Since I’m running the Dullahans, I guess I’ll call a vote in the morning.”
He turns my face up to his and stares at me in disbelief. “How the fuck did that happen?”
I have noticed before if Caine has been drinking or is angry, his accent is more pronounced. And he isn’t drinking, so guess he’s angry.
“I told them I was running the show and then I beat up Stink when he argued.”
“What kind of name is Stink?”
“Ask him, dumbass.”
“How do you beat up men twice your size?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m in charge now.” Caine is looking at me like I’ve grown an extra head. That’s the last straw and I start crying. With the day I’ve had, it’s long overdue. “I don’t know. I was just doing what my dad would have done,” I say between sobs. “I’m just trying to get out of this alive!”
It’s like opening a floodgate and once I start, I can’t stop. I try to get off Caine’s lap, but to my surprise, he pulls me back to him. He wraps his arms around me, hugging me to his chest.
“There now, lass. It’ll be alright,” he says in a low voice. “And no one is going to hurt you. Not so long as I’m alive.”
“I am crying about my dad, you jackass,” I sniffle.
“I’m sorry about your father, sweetheart.”
That only makes me cry harder.
???
I don’t know how much later it is when I finally stop crying, but it feels like hours. Caine didn’t run away or complain, just let me cry, which is more than Liam managed the last time I broke down crying.
“Once you get revenge, you’ll feel better.”
“Maybe I can target the wrong gang even,” I mutter. “Then I can kidnap and marry the son of the Bratva’s leader.”
Caine hits me with a look of exasperation. “I had ample evidence to suggest the Dullahans were behind the hit. It happened on your turf and the Dullahans have been expanding their drug business. There are no other gangs on that side of town.”
I roll my eyes. I must look like a racoon. I wipe away the mascara underneath my eyes.
“But I don’t know who killed dad.”
“SUVs? Russian?” Caine suggests. “I think it was the Bratva. It has to have been them. Think about it, with the resources it would drain from us to take out the Dullahans, Boston would be fair game.”
“But why would the Russian mob be in Boston? I thought their turf was New York.”
“Aye, but why would they settle for just New York? They’ve spent years taking bigger and bigger bites out of US turf.”
I think about the events of the last few days. Maybe I’m darker than I used to believe. I grew up on the outskirts of the Dullahans and their ways have slowly sunk into me. Becoming a part of me. Hunting down the bastards who killed my dad and meting out justice stokes some deep buried rage inside of me.
“Revenge,” I say, testing out the word. “I like it. Let’s kill the bastards.”
Caine’s lips curve into a wicked smile that makes my stomach flip. “I’ll punish every one of them with you. You almost killed me with an arrow over it. I’ll burn the Bratva to the ground and salt the earth.”
I realize he’s completely serious. That knocks the air from my lungs. I’m so fucking tired of mob shit. If I could go back in time, I’d do it. I’d give anything to be the girl I was when I met Caine a year ago. The one who wanted a night of casual fun and got more passion than she bargained for.
Heat and desire crash through my body, overwhelming me. I need to stop thinking, need to feel alive.
