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My mother’s distressed voice filters into the dining room, and I follow it. Out the side of the dining room, toward the large living space where our family would celebrate birthdays and holidays.
It doesn’t take long to find Arlo shooing Mama away as he lies spread out on the long sectional couch with Kohen and my father standing over him.
“I’m alright, Ma,” Arlo grinds out, his face twisted in a bit of pain. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
“My son got shot,” Mama carps back, throwing her hands in the air, and with the way her voice darkens and demands order, she outdoes all my brothers and father combined. I’ve never fought with her, always allowed her to have her way because it’s a waste of energy to do otherwise. “How do you expect me to act?”
“Mama.”—Arlo slowly attempts to sit up straighter along the armrest but fails—“it’s just a flesh wound.”
It’s not.
And why he’d even bullshit her with that is beyond me. She’s smarter than all of us combined and clearly, you can see that he’s been shot in the gut and shoulder.
The first shot is what I’m more concerned with as I step deeper into the room to assess the situation.
“Where’s Cillian?” I ask, gaining the attention of my father and brothers, but Mama still hovers over Arlo as though he’s going to pass out.
“Fuck if I know,” Kohen fumes, returning his attention to our older brother. “Did you find Patrick?”
“Yes.”
Father steps forward and ambles over to me, using the distance between myself and the rest of our family to speak to me privately. “I knew Patrick was a fuckin’ idiot, but I didn’t think he’d start sumthin’ with his children in thee room.”
“He believes they’re invincible.”
He scoffs. “Where’s thee lass?”
“With Jamie and Tomas.”
“I want information out of her.” I nod. “She probably won’t have any, though.”
“Did you see how she shot?” His blue eyes narrow in confusion because clearly, he didn’t. “She shot Arlo.”
My father stares at me for a long while before bowing his head. “We’re keepin’ her until we find out more information.”
Agreed.
“And I want the Kincaid fortune. The land, the streets, their clients, debts, balances, everythin’. They opened fire in your mother’s home, and we’re gonna take theirs.”
“Consider it done, sir.”
“Ye know what that means, don’t ye, son?” He quirks a brow at me. “Ye gonna have to be marryin’ that lass so that when we take out Cillian, she is owed the kingdom.”
“Do those men follow her lead?” Because I highly doubt it.
“Doesn’t matter if they did or didn’t. It’s Irish land. The Bianchi’s don’t have a claim to it, and even if they did try, it’d just be my lucky day to wipe them out as well. She could also be used as leverage against Cillian.”
I’d be surprised if he cared at all.
However, the idea of permitting Haven to walk freely out these doors after what she just did to my brother doesn’t sit well with me. It seems that her marrying me would be torture in itself, and I would like nothing more than to cause her any sort of discomfort.
“We took down two SUVs,” Kohen states, coming up to our father’s side with his report. “Neither one held Cillian.”
“Send Patrick’s body in pieces back to his dutiful son,” I order. “That’ll get a rise out of him to make a silly, stupid ass mistake.”
My father actually chuckles as Kohen glances over at him for final approval. He nods his head once in agreement before my brother takes off to have the job done.
“Ye’re not gonna win any points with your future wife if she finds out what ye did to her father,” my father claims with amusement.
