Honored: An Alpha Mob Romance (City Series Book 4) (11 page)

He grinned at me. “I know.”

W
e talked for another few hours, and eventually she agreed not to leave the house, at least for another day. She was stubborn and difficult and wild, but I could see the fear in her eyes. I could practically smell it, rolling from her body in waves.

If she weren’t afraid, I would have been even more worried.

Fuck, there was something about her that kept sticking in my brain. At first, I thought it was just because she was so sexy and innocent looking, with perfect lips and hips I wanted to grab and hold on to. Staring at her outside of Richie’s school, I thought I’d never met anyone so perfect and gorgeous. I wanted to rip off her blouse and explore every inch of her smooth skin, to burrow my face between her legs and breathe her smell in deep. But there was so much more to her than I could have realized at first. Any other civilian would have broken down into a ball of tears, but not Ellie. She was way stronger than I could have imagined, and although she was still trying to make stupid choices, she was so incredibly beautiful in her defiance. Despite the fear, she was desperately trying to hold on to herself.

And she was going to need that strength. I had no idea what was going to happen in the coming days or weeks, but I knew it was going to be difficult.

Worse, it may be bloody.

I felt the wind move through my hair as I navigated south, heading out of my territory. I hated leaving Ellie alone, but it was important that I got out and started making contact with a few people, started pushing my plan forward. The longer I waited, the longer Colm had to consolidate his power. Worse, he could even find my safe house, though I really doubted it. My father had taught me well, and I didn’t take any shortcuts in setting the thing up.

I was exhausted, and the sun was low in the sky, but I pushed myself forward. I felt responsible, somehow, for what was happening to Ellie. If only I had backed someone other than Colm early on, or if I had been able to talk him out of wanting to kill her, or if I had taken her into hiding the night before, then maybe I could have avoided everything. Or at least the worst of it. At least I could have avoided Ellie getting a gun shoved in her face.

At least her friend seemed nice enough. Chelsea had agreed to take on Petey, though I wasn’t sure she bought my story about taking Ellie on a spontaneous vacation. I didn’t blame her; it was pure and unfiltered bullshit, and she must have known it, but she reluctantly agreed. I didn’t let Ellie talk to her, mainly because I didn’t trust cellphones anywhere near the safe house, even if it was a burner paid for in cash. But still, at least that problem seemed to be solved for the time being.

I made a left, pulling onto Passyunk Ave, and continued south. I was crossing into the territory that pushed up against my own southern borders. It was one of the largest turfs in the entire city, nearly twice the size of my own, and that was saying a lot. The man who controlled it, Boss O’Brian, was an old friend of my father’s and one of the biggest of Colm’s rivals. I didn’t know what he had heard about Ellie, but if I was going to make anything happen, I needed to try to get him on my side.

I parked my car, killed the engine, and took a deep breath. It was very possible that I was walking into a trap. It was very possible that Colm had gotten to O’Brian already, maybe offered him a territory bump or some cash in return for killing me. Just because the man was a friend of my father’s didn’t mean he was going to automatically help and protect me. I glanced at the gun sitting on the seat next to me and sighed. I opened the glove box and shoved it in there, making sure the safety was on. I couldn’t risk going in there armed.

The evening was cool as I stepped out of my car and began walking toward O’Brian’s pub. Most of the bosses ran at least a few businesses on their territory. It was an easy way to launder money and to maintain a front. When the drug cash came in, you just slipped it into the revenue stream of your businesses and fudged your books a bit to make it all look legit. The Mob had been doing it for many, many years, and our system had been more or less perfected.

More than that, though, we needed to appear like legitimate businessmen, even if everyone in the city knew that was bullshit. Life with the Right People was all about appearance. You had to maintain a tough front, could never look weak, or else people would take advantage of you. Success was all about overtaking and pushing out the weak, and although it was brutal and difficult, it was the way of life many of us had chosen.

Besides all that, it was nice to have a home base. Somewhere you could call your own. My place happened to be a working business in its own right, but still. O’Brian’s was one of the oldest spots in the whole city, passed down from his father’s father. It was practically a historic site.

I pushed open the old wood door and took in the dim room. Immediately, heads snapped in my direction, and I noticed a man or two looked surprised. They must have recognized me, though I couldn’t place them. The bartender, Davin, gave me one glance and immediately walked into the back room, not bothering to hide his movements.

Smirking, I sat down at the bar. I had to admit, I loved making an entrance, even if it meant that I was about to get a bullet in the back of my head. It felt nice to get a bunch of tough guys riled up. It was the sort of shit I lived for. Not long after sitting, two big guys sat down on either side of me, obviously O’Brian’s muscle.

“Hey there, boys,” I said.

Neither of them answered.

“Not talkative tonight?”

I looked at the big guy to my right and grinned. He stared back with dead, lifeless eyes. He was a terrifying bastard, I had to give him that, though I suspected he was more bark than bite. The guys up front tended to be that way; you kept your real scary boys in the back, in case you really needed them. Most drunk idiots were kept under control by the threat of violence. It was the men who didn’t mind violence that you needed to worry about.

“Well, at least buy me a drink,” I said to the guy. “I mean, if you’re going to be sitting so close.”

He didn’t react.

“Tough crowd,” I muttered, looking away.

Davin reappeared from the back and walked directly over to me. I could sense more than a few eyes glued to me. I guessed more than a few guns were, too, and I was careful not to make any sudden or threatening moves. I had to appear calm and in control, otherwise I’d risk some idiot with a revolver getting nervous and shooting the place up.

“Hey, Liam, what are you doing here?” he asked.

“Whisky, no ice,” I said.

He stared at me for a second, and then he shrugged and started to make my drink. He placed the glass in front of me, half full with my favorite blend. I picked it up and sipped it, smiling.

“That’s what I needed,” I said.

“Okay, now what are you doing here?” He looked impatient and nervous.

I shrugged. “Hoping I could talk to the boss.”

“Not sure that’s a good idea.”

I sighed. I didn’t expect them to roll out the red carpet, but I had hoped for a little more courtesy. Then again, I was still alive, so that was pretty good. I knew Davin from way back; he was actually O’Brian’s number two guy. He was a good earner, and although he wasn’t the toughest man in any room, he was always the smartest.

“Tell him I have a business proposition for him.”

Davin shook his head. “Word came down about you, Liam. You’re officially on the blacklist.”

I smirked and took another sip of my drink. The blacklist was a relatively new invention of Colm’s, started when he took over the Mob. It was a list of wanted men, typically men who rebelled against him or were somehow untrustworthy. Men on the list carried a bounty in exchange for killing or capturing them. I briefly wondered how much money Colm valued me at.

It had better be a lot.

“Stop bullshitting me, Davin, and tell O’Brian I need a few minutes.”

“He knows you’re here, and he isn’t interested.” Davin paused and stared at me as I took another sip. “You should leave.”

I sighed, bowing my head. I hadn’t expected it to be easy, but I also hadn’t expected O’Brian to turn me away completely. We did have some history, he and I, at least through my father. I was glad he wasn’t murdering me, but I didn’t understand why he was keeping me alive but not talking. With a grunt, I pushed back from the bar and stood up. The two goons immediately stood up with me.

“You sure he won’t change his mind, Davin?”

He shook his head. “Just go, Liam.”

I sighed again and moved fast. I stepped around the guy on my left and darted toward the back. The guy grabbed at my shoulder, half turning me. I reached up and gripped his hand, digging my fingers into his wrist and index finger, and twisted hard. He cried out in pain as his joints locked and flexed, on the verge of breaking. I kicked him in the back of the knee, dropping him to the floor, careful not to let the bones in his hand snap.

The other goon responded, coming at me hard. I shoved the man on his knees forward, releasing his hand and sending him sprawling, as I ducked under a heavy right hook from the second goon. I came up with a fist to the guy’s gut, doubling him over, and then punched him three times in the kidneys. He stumbled forward and dropped onto his knees. I stepped back, readying myself for the second guy to get back to his feet and come at me. Time felt like it had slowed down as adrenaline coursed through my body and my mind began running through the next few moves.

“Enough,” I heard a voice call out.

Everyone stopped what they were doing. My heart was hammering and I was intent on the two men in front of me, but even I was brought up short. I looked over and saw Boss O’Brian standing in the doorway to the back room, staring at me. He gestured for me to follow him.

I grinned over at Davin as the two goons unsteadily got to their feet. He shrugged at me. I looked back at the other two guys.

“Sorry about that, fellas.”

“Fuck you,” the guy I had kidney punched spat.

What a sore loser.

I walked around him and followed Boss O’Brian into the back. He pushed open a doorway that lead into a large, richly furnished office. Pictures of him shaking hands with more than one mayor were hung up on the walls, plus him with other important city officials, including at least two state senators over the years.

O’Brian was in his mid-sixties, about the same age my father would have been. He was round in the middle and balding on the top, and sometimes a soft Irish accent drifted through in his vowels. He wasn’t intimidating to look at, but he was one of the most feared men in the city. He rubbed elbows with politicians and bribed police chiefs on a regular basis, and he had probably committed more crimes than any man alive. If he was ever caught for anything he did, I was sure he would spend years in jail.

“Liam Sullivan, as I live and breathe,” he said, lowering himself into his chair.

I sat down across from him. “Boss O’Brian. I’m glad you’re well.”

He laughed. “Well? I’m a fucking mess, kid. I’m old and I’m fat and Colm is bleeding me dry, and now you show up at my fucking door.”

I laughed and nodded. “I’m sorry I came without notice.”

“Fuck the notice. Just try not to break my bouncers next time.”

I grinned and he laughed.

“What can I do for you, kid?” he asked.

Right down to business, then. Usually we’d sit there, shooting the shit, maybe share stories about my old man, have a drink or two, but not this time. Although he was his usual affable self on the outside, there was something underneath the whole exchange, something ominous. He didn’t need to say anything to let me know that I wasn’t welcome.

“I guess you know what happened already.”

He nodded, staying silent.

I continued. “Colm is a monster, you know that. He was going to murder a civilian, a kindergarten teacher named Ellie Boucher. All because she was unlucky enough to stumble on Colm’s idiot muscle dumping bodies in a public place.”

O’Brian held up his hand. “What does this have to do with me?”

“I know you have your issues with Colm. He’s changing the way we do things. He’s making our lives less profitable and much more dangerous. I know you want him gone, even if you’re not saying it. And I’m here to offer you my strength in turning him over. Between the two of us, we can take him down, and install you as the new boss.”

I stopped talking and waited. He stared at me for a few seconds and then let out a long sigh. He looked at his office, gesturing around him.

“Do you know how I got all of this?” he asked.

“Because you run a good business.”

He nodded. “Exactly. I run a damn good business. When Michael was the boss, even though I didn’t agree with a lot of what he did, I kept my head down and ran my business. And I grew my territory. Now, I’m one of the richest, most powerful men in the city. Do you know how I got that?”

I blinked. “By running your business?”

“No, you fucking idiot. I got that by not getting involved in Mob politics.”

His face was calm, but there was a menace underneath his words. I was surprised to hear him say that, considering he had been one of the most outspoken opponents of Colm in the beginning and had always been a part of big decisions when Michael was running things. And yet there was he, claiming not to be a part of politics.

The man was so full of bullshit that he stank.

“You’re blacklisted, Liam. How much muscle could you possibly bring to bear for me, even if I did decide to try this little coup of yours? You’re a fucking pariah to the Right People. And for what, for some kindergarten teacher? Maybe you have some men who are loyal to you above anything else, but it won’t be enough.”

He paused, and the implications of his speech began to sink in. I felt a stone set itself at the bottom of my stomach.

“Give it up, Liam. Kill the girl, apologize to Colm, and hope he lets you live. Otherwise, it’ll only get more difficult from here.”

I shook my head. “I can’t do that. I just can’t do it.”

He nodded sadly. “I know you can’t, kid. I don’t agree with what Colm’s been doing lately, but he’s the fucking boss now. You either adapt or you die in this business, and I plan on adapting.”