Chapter Twenty

Aidan

“The brothers are getting restless,” Emmett confided in me one-on-one, before a meeting with the rest of the brothers. “They’re afraid you’re too soft. Some of them don’t think you’re strong enough to keep us united.”

“But I’m an O’Brien,” I said through gritted teeth as I clenched my fists at my side and resisted the urge to punch something. “Without my family, there’d be no brotherhood. Not at all.”

Emmett shrugged. “I’m just repeating what I’ve heard. Don’t shoot the messenger,” he said. “I just thought you should know what’s being said.”

I sighed and nodded, willing myself to calm down. “I appreciate the heads up. I do,” I said. “Have they forgotten it was them who were cleaning up after me, the feckin’ leader of the O’Brien syndicate just weeks ago after I killed a man in me office?”

“That was in self-defense, lad,” Emmett stated with a shrug of the shoulders, as if the crime was of less stature among the brotherhood. Murder was murder. A man had died by my hands.

It was times like these, I wished Flynn was here. Or at least, available to talk to. I had no doubt that he’d know exactly what to say and how to handle these guys so there’d be no more questions about my authority.

But Flynn wasn’t here. And I was left to deal with all this shite on my own. I was going to have to find a way to make the men fall into line and respect my authority. But how, was the question.

“We need a mission, Aidan. A common purpose that binds us all together,” Emmett said. “When Flynn was here, we had the deals with the bloody Russians, and that was huge. That tied all the brothers together nice and neat. Now, that’s fallen through. And no one is sure where you’re leading us—what your agenda is. The men need to know there’s a future here—work to be done. Keeping them busy and having a common purpose is going to be your best ally. Believe me. There’s a reason they say that idle hands are the Devil’s playthings—or whatever the feck it is they say.”

Even though it was my family who’d started the syndicate, I’d never wanted any part of it. And for good reason. To work in my field, I needed to be squeaky clean. I knew any potential ties to the Irish mob would destroy my career before I ever got it off the ground. And I’d worked hard to get my degree and lay a foundation for a career for myself. Yeah, I was one of the good guys.

It was hard enough to escape the suspicion and preconceived notions of me simply because of my name. It was hard to stay completely afloat in the river of shite I was currently drowning in simply because I was who I was. I’d helped the syndicate out from time to time, but I tried to stay far away from most of the illegal functions. I had to stay clean and avoid getting any of the shite from the syndicate stuck to me.

And yet, now here I was—the leader of the very group I’d worked so hard to distance myself from. It was an ironic—even cruel—twist of fate, but now, I was the man in charge of making plans and brokering deals that were the epitome of everything I’d always tried to stay away from.

“What about the deal we have going with the Mayhem MC?” I asked. “Think we can expand that operation?”

“Where do you think Mayhem gets their guns from?” Emmett asked me.

Honestly, I had no idea. That was one of the problems. I was still trying to get up to speed on all of the syndicate’s operations. But I had an idea where he was going with that question—it seemed relatively obvious and perhaps rhetorical.

“The Russians, I’m guessing?”

“Yep. And they’ve been working with the Russians longer than we’ve been around, mate,” Emmett said quietly, scratching his beard. “I doubt they’ll jump ship to work with the likes of us. Especially after all the bad press we’ve been getting lately. The last thing they’re gonna want to do is tie themselves to a sinking ship.”

“We’re hardly a sinking ship, but thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said dryly. “That is exactly why it’s imperative I clear my brother’s name. Sooner, rather than later.”

Emmett cringed. He’d cleared his throat and tried to hide it, but I could tell he was holding something back—something I wasn’t going to like.

“What is it?” I asked. “What is it you’re not saying?”

Emmett sighed. “Nothing, Aidan,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Aye, I am worried about it,” I said. “So feckin’ spill it.”

“Fine. I’m only telling you this because I’m an old family friend, so hear me out,” he said. “Do ya think ya should be spending so much time and energy on clearing ya brother? Wouldn’t it be a slight bit better for you, and the syndicate as a whole if ya distanced yourself from him? The guys are thinkin’ your efforts to clear Flynn is a sign that your loyalties might be in the wrong place.” Emmet paused and took a breath. “Flynn’s a snitch and honestly, I don’t know if that’s a label you’re ever gonna get off of him. Aligning yourself with somebody seen in that light weakens your position and makes the men wonder where your loyalty lies.”

“My brother didn’t feckin’ snitch,” I said, steeling myself against any arguments Emmett might have to the contrary. “And I’ll be damned—”

Holding up his hands in defeat, Emmett just shook his head. “Again, don’t shoot the messenger. You wanted honesty, I’m giving you straight up honesty, lad,” he said. “This is what keeps the distance between you and the others. They don’t trust you because of your allegiance to somebody they see as a rat. I’m only trying to help ya out on this.”

“I know, Emmett.” Rubbing my temples, I told myself we’d have answers about Flynn soon enough, but I had my doubts. Not about his innocence, but about being able to prove it. “I’ll try to keep my investigation quiet and stop talking about it so much. And I’ll do my best to not let it come up during business. But trust me on this, I’ll never stop fighting for my brother.”

“I don’t get it, lad,” he said. “I don’t understand why you risk your life and reputation to defend him. You’re risking the organization by your loyalty to him. You and your brother weren’t even that close.”

“Not as adults, maybe,” I said. “But that was my doing, not his. I’d always thought myself better than him because I had higher ambitions than he did. I looked down on him and the brotherhood, if you want me to be completely honest. That was all me. He tried to forge some kind of relationship, but I was too busy looking down my nose at him to take the olive branch he was offering. And because of that, I owe it to him to clear his name. He’s my brother, Emmett.”

“Aye. You have many brothers,” Emmett said softly. “Many of them who want to get to know you—the real you. They want to pledge their loyalty to you. If you’d only just let them.”

“Aye. I may have many Brothers—with a capital B,” I said. “But I only have one brother, Emmett. Me da’ has withered away to feckin’ nothin’, Emmett. Flynn is all I have left, and I have to protect that. I have to prove he’s innocent of what he’s being accused of. That’s what family does. Isn’t that what we’re all about? Family? Brotherhood? If we don’t stand up for one another, who’s going to stand up for us?”

Emmett couldn’t argue with me. Not with that logic. He didn’t have any brothers of his own—he only had the brotherhood. But he’d go to the wall just the same for any of his brothers the way I was for Flynn—of that, I had no doubt. And I knew he’d even do the same for me. He’s the only brother who could say the things he did to me and get away with it. But that was because deep down, I knew he had my best interests at heart.

“Your father would be proud of you, son,” Emmett finally said.

It seemed like an odd thing to say, but it still meant a lot to me. My father and I might have had our differences, but he was always me da and deep down, I always wanted his approval. It wasn’t something I ever got, so to have Emmett—who knew my da, arguably, better than anybody—say what he did, made me feel good. Me da would always hold a special place in my heart. Maybe I didn’t take the path he’d set out for me, but we were family.

And there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for family.

***

“Dave, you have some contacts within Mayhem MC, right?” I asked.

He nodded. “They come in a lot, sure.”

When Emmett mentioned their ties to the Russians earlier, it gave me an idea. While most of the MC was tight with the Russian mob, all it took was one, tiny little fracture within their group for us to get our foot in the door.

I was hoping to expand our gun dealings with them, for the sake of the syndicate, but I thought we could also exploit those contacts we had with the hope someone could shed some light on who was trying to kill me as well. Maybe one of the Russians—or somebody else altogether—had said something, or let something slip, to somebody in the MC. Or maybe it was one of the Mayhem crew behind the actual attempt on my life.

I had no idea, but it seemed like it might be worth a shot. If nothing else, we were going to be able to expand our gun deals and bring in some extra cash. Not to mention giving the brothers a common goal to work toward.

“Know anyone who might be on the outs with the Mayhem boys?” I asked. “Maybe somebody struggling under the current leadership who might be interested in having a little chat?”

Dave seemed to pick up on what I was asking and where I was going with it, and he nodded. “Hell yeah. A few of the guys have been coming in, getting drunk off their asses and talking about the MC’s president. Not sure about the Russians, but not everyone is happy with the current leadership, that’s for sure. I don’t doubt we could get some of them talking. Swing ‘em over to our side.”

“Think we might be able to flip any of them?” I asked. “Get them to turn on the club president? Because I’m thinking a regime change might be in our best interest.”

“Hard to say. MC’s are tight,” he said. “I reckon anything is possible, though.”

I nodded. “Get on that. Find out what you can, please,” I said. “See if there’s someone who might talk to us and be willing to work with us.”

“Good idea, mate.”

Sometimes things came together. Not often, but sometimes. It was a bit of a Hail Mary, but it was worth a shot at the very least. Emmett was right. Lately, all I’d been focused on was trying to figure out who was trying to kill me, and even more so, who had framed my brother. My attention hadn’t been on the syndicate’s agenda, but my own. After giving it some thought after I’d talked to Emmett, I could see how that might rub some of the guys the wrong way.

And considering the fact that these guys already didn’t trust Flynn, by letting them see how much time I devoted to clearing his name, I was slowly eating away at the little trust they had. And all the while, because I’d been so focused on my own personal agenda, business deals were passing us by. I needed to clean this mess up. My position at the top of the syndicate—if not the syndicate itself—depended upon it.

I figured it could only help us if I put some feelers out there, see if I could find a weak spot within the MC and then exploit the hell out of it. If this thing fell through with Mayhem, I had a backup plan in place. I was going to talk to the Mexicans. And if that failed, there were smaller street gangs we could get behind to help us expand our business interests.

We could make this work. I had no illusions—I knew I wasn’t an ideal leader for the syndicate. But because of the blood in me veins, I was the only man left to run the operation. Otherwise, it would be placed in the hands of someone other than an O’Brien. And at the mere thought of that, I knew it would be the final nail in Donal O’Brien’s coffin—so to speak. He was barely hangin’ on by a thread as it was, and allowing the syndicate to fall from our family would dishonor the very structure and leadership he’d founded.