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I fell backward. My eyes, watery from the sting, searched the office and saw it was empty. Which scared me. I’d have preferred a witness. Even one who would see me get bitch slapped.
Crouched on the carpet, I hissed, “What the fuck?”
“You went to Cambridge with Lachlan when you were told to go back to school,” Da sneered.
“I’m twenty-one. You don’t own me,” I growled.
“Have you not figured out what I do to my sons who disobey me?”
He couldn’t be serious about sending me to that torture camp in Dunbar Valley.
“You continue to overlook that I have what it takes to work with Lachlan.” I pushed to my feet. “I killed those fuckers who touched my brother. You should be thanking me. Not striking me.”
Why the fuck was no one thanking me?
“I do things for a reason, Eoghan. Not every person who crosses us ends up dead. That’s a choice a king must make,” he shouted.
“I’m not sorry. I did what I did for Balor. Not you.”
Da scoffed and sat at his desk. From the top drawer, he took out an envelope. “You’re not working with Lachlan.”
My throat tightened, and I considered saying perhaps the Bratva or the Cosa Nostra would have me. Then he would shoot me. He’d had eight kids, two who were twins that people couldn’t keep straight. No one would miss one O’Rourke brat.
“I’m glad you figured out your way around Cambridge and that you’re so worried about your little brother.”
“He’s eighteen and not so little.” I glanced at the envelope. “What is that?”
“Your acceptance to Harvard Law School.”
My spine turned rubbery. I didn’t want to go to law school. I was struggling enough at Columbia. “Wait. How? I don’t have good grades. I didn’t take the LSATs.”
“Lucky for you, I have a computer tech guy who says you did.” Da dropped the envelope on his desk.
“Balor?”
Da smiled. “He’s not that good. Yet. But he will be. I’ll make sure of it.”
Fuck! Da’s plan for all of us had been in motion long before that night. Perhaps before we’d been born.
“You will be the lawyer I need to keep my shit looking legal and your brother’s consigliere.”
“Da, please,” I begged.
“It’s done, Eoghan. Now you’re going to drive those dead bodies Upstate and bury them.”
“Da, it’s the middle of winter. It will take hours and—” I stopped talking when the office door opened from the hall and his underboss walked in.
“Cassian will go with you,” Da said.
If I’d not been my father’s son, I probably would have ended up in those graves, too.
“No coat, no gloves, one shovel,” Da spits out to Cassian. “You kill someone without permission, Eoghan O’Rourke, you bury the bodies. When you get back, go home to that nice apartment in Manhattan I pay for where you screw a different girl every Saturday night and pray you still have working fingers. It will take you a few months to pack when your hands stop hurting enough to touch anything ever again.”
I wasn’t sure what I loathed more. Those hours digging, or law school…
Silence stretches out and I open my eyes. I’m not in my Da’s office with a handprint across my face. I’m in Reno. With the most beautiful woman I’ve ever lied eyes on. A woman whose dad owned a baby blue Crown Vic of all the fucking cars in the world.
She’s a prosecutor. And I just confessed to a double murder, plus a host of other crimes including assault, kidnapping, transporting bodies across state lines, and illegal burials.
