Chapter Twenty-Two

Dylan

Adrenaline surged through me, spreading like wildfire. Normally I could rein it in. Check the levels, breathe, and get myself together. But when combined with overwhelming rage, I couldn’t seem to stop it or slow it down. The two forces twined together and gripped my entire being, taking hold of every sense. I saw red and through the swirling fury, the only person who was clear was Tara.

“Who is this motherfucker?” I demanded, jerking my head at the body on the ground. Blood had gushed from his head, but his chest still rose and fell. He’d wake up eventually. Likely with a nasty headache.

“Is he—”

“He’ll be fine. Now start talking. What the fuck is going on around here?”

Tara chewed her lower lip, her eyes on Eddie. “Eddie O’Doul.”

“Aha. And the other two?”

She glanced up at me.

“Don’t play fucking innocent with me, Tara. I don’t have the fucking patience. Who are the other guys who came into Malloy’s the other night? O’Doul’s too, I’m guessing.”

She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut tight. She let out a slow exhale and without opening her eyes, started to explain. “I owe them a debt. Got myself into a shit storm a few years ago when I was living in Chicago.”

“What kind of shit storm?”

She opened her eyes and stared up at me. For the first time, I saw something more than a pair of dead eyes. Some flicker of feeling shone through. “My dad had a gambling problem. The O’Douls have a certain...specialty when it comes to targeting people who have a bent for the tables. I didn’t know it was going on. I was living with him while I was getting through nursing school.” She shook her head. “I was so busy that I didn’t realize it was all happening right under my nose. My dad started selling off some of the stuff around the house. Then bigger things, even some of the anniversary gifts he’d bought for my mother over the years. I should’ve seen the signs that he was desperate. In trouble.”

Tara’s eyes slid closed and this time she squeezed tight enough that lines appeared at the edges. “I didn’t know until one day I came home from school and found my dad—” her voice choked off. She shook her head and tears slid down her cheeks. “He was beaten so badly I barely recognized him. Before I could call for help, I was attacked. Gregory O’Doul himself was there in my bedroom. He tied me up, threatened to rape me. Told me that he had a deal to make. He needed a pretty young thing to do a special job. If I agreed to do his bidding he would let my dad live, and he’d even wipe the slate clean.”

Tara dared to look up at me. “What choice did I have, Dylan?”

“What was the job?” I growled, though I had a feeling I already knew.

She drew in a ragged breath and wiped away the tears from her face. “They moved me to Brighton with the instructions that I was to get close to the Malloy family. At first, I was just supposed to watch, talk to a few people, get to know the local gossip about the family. It didn’t take long before they wanted more. They demanded I seduce Jimmy.” She winced. “I had to, Dylan. You have to believe me. It wasn’t my choice. They had people watching my dad. They’d show me pictures of him at the grocery store or at the park, walking the dog.” She dissolved into tears again.

I lowered the gun and slipped it back into the waistband of my pants. “What did they want with Jimmy?”

Tara didn’t bother wiping her face this time. “They wanted him to run drugs and girls using the bar as a front. I was supposed to convince him to work with the O’Douls. They’d been trying off and on to get control of this neighborhood but couldn’t get a foot hold.”

“Jimmy was the bridge.”

Tara nodded. “Well, at least, he was supposed to be. It took a lot of convincing, but after your uncle got into some gambling trouble, he finally went to them and made the deal. He’d take on the girls.”

“So why wasn’t that enough for them to let you go?”

Tara scoffed, “Because they wanted more. They wanted him to run drugs through the pub, too. Bigger money. Easier to manage. Jimmy didn’t want anything to do with it. But—”

“But what?”

Tara sighed. “Tommy . . .”

“Fuck.”

“He was...hungry. He wanted more. Eddie—he’s been my...handler. He told me to put the pressure on Tommy. To get to know him. So, I did.”

I raked a hand through my hair. “So you fucked him, too? Huh?”

“It was different with Tommy. We—”

I turned and glared at her. “What? Tell me.”

“We were in love. He wasn’t just a job. At first, yeah, but then things grew and changed. He was different. Ambitious.”

I snorted. “Apparently. Dumb motherfucker.”

“How can you say that? He was one of your best friends. He worshiped the ground you walked on, you know. Him and Jimmy both. You were their hero. They kept photos of you in the pub and talked about you all the time.”

My throat swelled. “It doesn’t matter. He hurt Emma. If he was standing right here in front of me, right now, I’d beat the ever-loving shit out of him.”

Tara shook her head. “Don’t be too hard on him. He knew about her and you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He knew she was still in love with you. All these years. He knew he wasn’t who she wanted. I think that’s why he was so easy to get away from her. He’d spent years trying to win her over, but somewhere along the line he gave up. For whatever reason, he didn’t resent you for it. He kinda resented himself. He was a broken man when I came into the picture. But together—we had fun and made each other stronger.”

I stared at the wall above her head for a long moment, trying to wrestle my emotions back into submission. There was far too much at stake for me to lose it now. “Did he know about you? The truth?”

I dropped my gaze, and Tara shook her head. “I wanted to tell him,” she said, her voice a mournful whisper.

I drew in a long breath. “How does this play out, Tara? What do they want now? What would it take to set you free?”

“They want to know who controls the Malloy properties now. The end goal for them is the same. They just need to know which angle to attack next. If it’s Paddy, they know how to get him. He’s got a lot in common with my dad—”

“Where is your dad?”

“Back in Chicago. I don’t have enough money to pay for him to move. I maxed out all my credit cards just trying to keep him fed. After the...assault, he couldn’t go back to work. The bastards crippled him, stole his livelihood, and have robbed me of every single shred of dignity.” She stared up at me. A steely resolve masked her tears. “They’ve taken everything, Dylan. I don’t care what fucking happens to me anymore, but I’ll be damned if they try and hurt my family again.”

“Then help me. Help me end this.”

“I can’t. They’ll find out.”

“No they won’t.” I paced a few yards down the alley and then pivoted on the heel of my boot and stalked back. A plan was percolating in the back of my mind. As a SEAL, I was used to working on the fly. It wouldn’t take me more than a few hours to get things together. I rounded on Tara. “I have plenty of money in the bank. I’ll pay you twenty-five grand if you help me take out the cockroaches that killed my brother and hurt your father. I’ll wire it anywhere you fucking want. I have connections with the CIA from my work overseas. I’ll get you both brand new, bulletproof IDs and scrub you from the system. You’ll be safe and have enough seed money to help you start over. But you have to tell me which one of these fuckers killed my brother so I can put a bullet in his head.”

She lowered her head and her breathing started to slow down as she took it all in. She nodded her head slowly but surely as she raised her hand and pointed at Eddie who still was unconscious.

“He’s one of the men who did it.”

I leveled the gun at Eddie and fired.

***

I raced back to Emma’s and pounded on the door, realizing too late that showing up like a madman in the middle of the night might freak out her son. Emma answered the door in a bathrobe, her hair askew. “Dylan? What’s wrong?”

“Is little Tommy here?”

She nodded. “He’s asleep. Why? What’s going on?”

I grabbed her arms and held her steady. “I need to know that you’re safe. You’re to stay here, keep the door locked. Don’t open it for anyone. And if I don’t come back by sunrise, you’re to take your mom, Kate, and Tommy as far from here as possible.”

“Dylan, you’re scaring me.”

“Good.”

Emma’s eyes swam with tears. “Tell me. Tell me what’s going on.”

I shook my head. “Not now. Here.” I reached into my pocket and produced a slip of paper. “Use this to start over somewhere else if this shit goes down. You deserve so much more than what you can find here. Promise me, Em. Promise me that you’ll go far and you’ll go fast.”

She stared at the paper between her trembling fingers: a check for two hundred and fifty-thousand dollars. “Dylan?”

“Promise me, Em!” I gave her a gentle shake.

Her eyes snapped back to mine, wide and panicked. She nodded. “I promise. But, Dylan, you have to promise me something to.”

“Anything.”

“Promise me that this isn’t goodbye. You’re coming back, and we’ll be together. Promise me that you won’t leave me behind again.”

My throat and eyes burned, but I forced a nod. I kissed her fiercely, knowing all too well that it may be our last. When we pulled apart, tears splashed down her cheeks. She knew that I hadn’t said the words out loud for a reason.

There were no guarantees. No promises that I could make. I wouldn’t lie to her.

“Bye, Em.”

She reached for me, but I slipped out of her grasp and hurried back down the hall. If I stayed a moment longer, I’d never be able to find the strength to leave.

And there was work to do.

***

Knowing Emma and Tommy were safe was all I needed before walking right into the snake pit. I stopped at my parents’ house long enough to grab my backup gun—my registered conceal and carry—and spent ten minutes writing a letter to them, explaining everything in case I didn’t make it back. They needed to know the real reason their sons had died. I couldn’t bear the thought of them being tortured searching for answers the rest of their lives. I put the letter on my bed, changed into a black hoodie sweatshirt, and slipped on a pair of gloves. I tucked one gun into the back of my jeans and strapped the smaller of the two to my body, and slid a knife into my boot. When I was armed as much as I could manage, I sneaked out of the quiet house and hurried across town to O’Doul’s.

I waited in the shadows behind the pub, waiting for Tara’s signal. In exchange for my deal, she was going to Gregory O’Doul himself to arrange a meeting. She’d claim to have new information and gain entrance to his office. She’d excuse herself, open the side door, and I would slip in as she slipped out.

I only planned on taking Gregory out. I had enough blood on my hands as it was from killing Eddie behind Malloy’s. It couldn’t get pinned on me. I’d wiped the gun clean and planned to put it in Gregory’s hand when this sorry affair was over. Tara assured me there weren’t security cameras in the hall or back offices. She said the O’Douls liked their privacy and demanded there be no record of the goings on at their establishment as it could just as easily be used to incriminate them if push came to shove.

But not before it helped me clean up.

The side door cracked open, and I crept in from the shadows. Tara was waiting there, trembling in the dark hall. She glanced up at me and then quickly looked left and right. “He’s in the office. Second door on the left. Everyone else is in the bar drinking. You have to hurry if you’re going to get him alone.”

“He have a gun on him?”

“I took care of it.”

“All right.” I slipped a piece of paper and a wad of cash into her hand. “Call me on this number first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll send the money and put in a call to get the IDs processed. Tell your dad to get to a hotel and make sure he isn’t followed. I’d suggest you do the same.”

“What if—”

“If I don’t make it out of here, you go to my parents’. I wrote a letter for them explaining everything. They’ll help you.”

Tara looked at the paper. “Thank you, Dylan. I know I don’t deserve this.”

“Did you make Jimmy happy?”

She looked up, her eyes filled with tears. “I tried. I really did. Your brother was one of the best men I’ve ever known. I mean that.”

I gave a nod. “Go.”

She flew past me, and I slipped into the hall. I watched for a moment as the shadows swallowed her and then gently closed the door. There was no turning back now. We were in too deep.

I pulled the gun from the waistband of my jeans and held it at the ready. I took careful, calculated steps down the hall and found the door Tara indicated. I drew in a quick breath, held it, and then pushed my way into the room.

“Damn, sweetheart, leave me hanging like that isn’t at all nice.”

It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at. Gregory O’Doul was taped to his office chair, his pants down around his ankles, and a silk tie was wrapped around his head as a blindfold. I grinned. Thank you, Tara. I’d instructed her to distract him, swipe his weapon if she could, but this...this was borderline fucking genius.

I shut the office door, locked it, and took a soft step toward him.

“Come on, baby, I have a game to get back to. You gonna do this or what?”

I pressed the barrel of the gun to his head. He jolted, nearly upending the chair. “You call for your buddies and I’ll end you right here, right now.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded, flailing wildly.

Tara had done her job with the electric tape. It held fast even as he thrashed against it.

“You’re into some kinky shit, O’Doul.” I clucked my tongue. “Letting a woman tie you up and blindfold you? Especially a woman you’ve been treating like shit. Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen that level of pussy-whipped before.”

“I know who you are. You sound just like your worthless piece of shit brother!”

The barrel of my gun slammed into the side of his head so hard I feared I knocked him unconscious. Blood gushed from a gash at his temple, and he moaned.

“One more word about my brother and we’re going to do this the slow, painful way. You tell me what I want to know, and I’ll make it quick. Not that you deserve it.”

“Fuck you, Malloy.”

I struck him a second time. Blood dripped from his lip, and he spat.

“Who ordered the hit on Jimmy?”

“He had it coming. If you can’t play by the rules, you shouldn’t get in the game. Jimmy wouldn’t go with the flow.”

“That’s not what I asked you.” I ground my teeth and dug the barrel of the gun into the side of his head. “Who ordered the hit?”

He flexed his jaw.

“You’re not walking out of here, O’Doul. Tell me what I want to know. Like I said, I’ll make it easier on you.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

I lowered my mouth an inch away from his ear. “It matters to me.”

“They were only supposed to scare him.”

I backed up a step, still keeping the gun on him.

“Those fuckin’ kids were getting ideas about going into business for themselves. Cutting us out of the deal. We heard from one of our girls that they were talking. Tara confirmed it. I tried to talk it out, sweeten the pot, but that damn Jimmy was insistent. He wanted out.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Why would he go along and then want to pull out like that? Jimmy wasn’t a fucking pimp. I doubt that was the reason. You can’t paint him as some greedy bastard.”

O’Doul laughed, a cold, grating sound. My finger stroked the trigger.

“He didn’t approve of my methods of recruitment.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“He got up on his high horse when he found out most of my pussy is imported from overseas.”

Recognition rang through me. “You’re in the human trafficking game, too? Fuck.”

“Fuck you, Malloy. You can pretend to be some American hero, but we all know that at the heart you’re just another neighborhood thug. You’re no better than the rest of us. The rest of us just stayed here, accepted what we are, and made a shit ton of cash doing it. You ran away, and everyone called you fucking noble!” He laughed. “Jimmy at least accepted what he was. At least he did until he pussed out in the end. What a fucking waste.”

I stepped to his side and fired twice into his temple. Blood sprayed the wall, and O’Doul crumpled, what was left of his head slumped to his chest. I smiled as I admired the silencer on Eddie’s Glock 9. I dropped the weapon on Gregory’s desk, quickly untied and untapped him, then fit the Glock into his hand. A quick scan of the scene told me it looked like a suicide, and now his prints were on the weapon that killed Eddie. I pulled my concealed side arm from its holster before slipping out of the office and out the back door.