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DECLAN
I need a fucking drink and there’s only one place I drink other than my home. I should probably just go home and down a bottle of Hammond Whiskey, but hiding away won’t make the problem disappear. Someone has been fucking with the supply for my cannabis dispensary and now is not the time for those kinds of problems.
When it is cold out, people stay home more, and they want to get high. I made sure to position myself in the right place for when the recreational laws went into effect, and I paid a pretty fucking penny to make sure I got the golden ticket to open a dispensary. It wasn’t cheap, but business has been good.
Except for this last month.
My people can’t tell me what’s going on or why the yields for our grows haven’t been as high as they should be. If someone is sabotaging us, I’m going to be pissed. No one wants me to be pissed.
That’s when people die. And I won’t even think twice about it.
I’m over having those under me only come to me with problems and not solutions. Which it feels like some of the weight of my world is falling off my shoulders when I walk into The Irish Rose. I won’t have to wait to get served here, no matter how busy it is. Not in my own fucking pub.
I slide into a seat at my table at the back, the one which is always open no matter how many people have their eyes on it. Everyone who comes here knows better than to sit at my table. If they don’t, they get educated quickly.
Conor takes his seat next to me, making sure he can see the entrance and the bar while leaving open the side of his body where I know his gun is holstered. The man has been my best friend and right hand for a long fucking time. I remember the first time I saw him in the ring. He was covered in blood and brutality.
I knew there wouldn’t be a better person to stand at my side. He’s never let me down and he’s proven just how loyal he is. Last year his brother, Patrick, got himself into a lot of fucking trouble. Not just with me, which would have been enough, but with Elio Agosti as well. Elio’s a man even I wouldn’t cross, and I was more than happy to help when Patrick abducted his woman.
Conor didn’t even flinch when Patrick was killed. There was no love lost between the brothers before Patrick’s fuck-up, but Conor’s loyalty could have been tested considering the situation. It wasn’t. He stood strong at my side.
Conor is as annoyed as I am with the problems The Glass Flower is having right now. I’m sure he’s thinking about getting into the ring tomorrow night at the underground fight we run. When it comes to taking down his opponent, he’s still just as brutal as he was when I met him and it’s one of the ways he blows off stress.
Hell, I’m tempted to get in the fucking ring as well.
Something has been off with Conor for the past eight months, even though he’s tried to hide it from me. I’m not sure what it is, and I’m not worried it has anything to do with business. I’m letting him have the time to come to me about it. He knows I’ve got his back in the same way he’s got mine.
I have a feeling it’s about a woman, even though he’s never allowed one to get under his skin before.
Much like Conor, I’ve never allowed a woman to get close enough to me to be anything more than a quick fuck. I don’t have the time nor am I blind to the danger I’d be putting a woman in by being close to me.
I have no fucking idea how Elio does it. How does he have his woman as his queen? How does he keep her safe? I don’t know what he was thinking by letting her into his heart. I thought his was just as black and scarred as mine is, but I guess I was wrong.
Elio is ruthless, just like me. He expects those around him to be just as vicious and willing to shed blood. The fact he has a soft spot for his wife is a vulnerability. I never thought I’d see the day when he would allow himself to have a weakness.
Still, he looked happy, at least behind the mask, at his wedding. It wasn’t just some power move either. Zinnia doesn’t have any ties to the other families in power and their marriage has nothing to do with alliances. It’s only about love.
Fuck. Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it would be like if I could allow a woman into my life and heart.
The only woman I’ve allowed to be close to me has been my sister, Saoirse, but she’s gone off to school across the country. I don’t know why she had to go all the way to California when there are plenty of schools in Boston to choose from, but I wasn’t going to stop her. She’s headstrong and stubborn as hell. She’s a wild Irish rose with the thorns to prove it.
She’ll be home in the next few weeks for the first time since she left, and I can’t wait to see her for myself. I make sure she checks in often and I have a man always watching her, but it’s not the same as seeing her. I almost crack a smile at how Saoirse would react if she knew about her bodyguard.
She’d hand me my ass. She’s the only person who could ever get away with it without finding out why people fear me.
I’ve earned the fear people have when it comes to me. Some of it was inherited from my father, who was the head of the McCarthy family until he died along with Mom in a car accident. Black ice, a reality in Boston, and speed is never a good combination.
I became the only family left for Saoirse, who was just a baby, and I had to figure out how to be in charge of my father’s businesses, both legal and illegal. It took me some time and some help from those my father trusted, but I made it.
Then I met Conor ten years ago and knew I could start transitioning away from my father’s guard to my own.
It’s been a few days since I’ve been in The Irish Rose, but this is a place where I always feel close to my father. I spent a lot of time in this pub while I was growing up, learning at my father’s feet to be the man I am today.
“We’ll figure it out,” Conor offers, knowing how much the problems with the dispensary are weighing on my mind.
I give a nod and then look around for the server, a little surprised no one has delivered our whiskey to us already. Everyone who works here is trained properly. Sean, who manages the bar, knows what is expected of him.
“I know, the only question is how many people will need to be taught a lesson because of this problem.” I rub a hand down my face, feeling exhaustion settling over me. “It needs to be taken care of.”
