The Devil’s Keepsake by Somme Sketcher

Lorcan

“This was a mistake,” I growl, sweeping everything left on the dining table to the floor in one swift motion. Then I drive my heel into one of the chairs. It skids across the tiles and narrowly misses one of the three henchmen still guarding the restaurant from the inside.

“Lorcan, we need you to focus,” Angelo says, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. “The plan is foolproof, you need to remember that.”

I shake him off and something between a snarl and a howl escapes my lips. Yeah, the great fucking plan.

When Antoin said Bratnov wanted Poppy, I bust his lip open with a swift punch in the mouth. As he wiped away the blood, I said if he ever mentioned her name in the same breath as his again, he’d lose more than a few teeth. But somewhere between night and day, he managed to convince me of the plan.

We’d use Poppy as bait.

Let him think that we agreed to his conditions. Draw up a contract, sign on the fucking dotted line. But he’d be suspicious right up until he had her in his filthy clutches, which is why we had to let him leave the restaurant with her. Angelo might think the plan is foolproof, but it still relies on two important factors.

Miguel’s stalking skills being as sharp as a knife, and the Bratnovs letting their guard down now they think the war is over.

My heart is slamming against my chest and I need something strong to drown it out. I take out the hip flask from my breast pocket and gulp.

I’ll burn the city down to get my China Doll back.

Antoin’s cell buzzes. He brings it to his ear and turns away from me. “Miguel. Okay. Coordinate with Donnacha.”

“What did he say?” I snap, crossing the tiles and getting in his face.

I hate that he’s so much fucking calmer than me. “The tracker he put on Bratnov’s SUV is live. They are moving west towards Route One. I’m coordinating with Donnacha and the team now.”

Rodrigo Mondez smooths down the breast of his suit and shakes his head. “Taking her back to New York City? Seems too obvious.”

I agree.

“We need to make sure there are enough men,” Antoin says suddenly. He turns and jabs a finger towards two of the henchmen by the door. “You and you. Get out of here and coordinate with Donnacha.”

Alessandro raises an eyebrow. “Including my men and the Cartel, we have over a hundred men on the ground. You don’t think that’s enough for an unexpected attack?”

“And you really think two more men are gonna make a difference?” Rodrigo chimes in, a trace of amusement on his lips.

Antoin drags a challenging stare between the two of them. “It’s better not to take chances,” he says darkly.

Mondez replies, “Now, we have only one of your henchmen here, and none of us have any weapons. You know, since you agreed to Bratnov’s ridiculous demand that we all come in unarmed.”

“You can’t handle yourself, big man?” Antoin bites back.

I slam my fist on the table and growl, “Not. Now.” I snap my fingers towards Mondez. “You have the tracker monitor? I want to see it.”

He tugs a small black tablet from his pocket and switches it on. “Here—”

Suddenly, Antoin intercepts it, snatching it from Mondez’s hand and hurling the device against the wall.

“Fucking hell, Antoin,” I bark, “now isn’t the time to throw a tantrum—”

Bang. Bang. Bang.Three gunshots ring out, and when I turn back to my cousin, I’m looking down the barrel of his smoking gun.

“Get on your knees, Lorcan.”

What the fuck.

I drag my eyes across the chaos. Alessandro, Angelo, and Rodrigo are sprawled across the floor amongst the broken glass and silverware. Blood pools from their chest, soaking their white shirts.

I’m stunned. “If this is a joke, Antoin—”

“You’re the only joke around here, Lorcan.” Spit flies from his mouth, his eyes wild and dangerous.

“Antoin,” I say steadily, meeting his hard gaze. This must be what a mental break looks like. “Put the gun down and we’ll talk.”

He laughs, manic and cruel. “Now you want to talk? I’ve been trying to get you to talk for years. But that’s your problem, isn’t it Lorcan? You don’t talk. You do. And what you do, is whatever the fuck you want.”

My jaw ticks. “What do you want, Antoin?”

“I already told you. You on your knees,” he snarls back.

I growl, “The Quinn boss would never get on their knees for a cousin.” I spit the last word like it’s rotting in my mouth.

With a sneer on his lips, he says, “You’re not a boss, Lorcan, no matter what your bloodline says. You’re a drunk.” He regards me up and down with disgust, “Look at you, you couldn’t even keep your hand off the bottle for one fucking day. Probably the most important day in your life.”

The hip flask weighs heavy in my pocket. “I’ll give you one chance to drop the gun, Antoin,” I growl, “or you’re going to be real fucking sorry.”

Then it hits me. We made an agreement with the Bratnovs that none of the bosses would be armed in the restaurant. Our henchmen searched them, theirs searched us. Yet here Antoin is, Glock in hand.

A thick cocktail of rage swirls around my veins, mixing with the liter of whiskey I’ve sunk today.

“You’re working with them.”

A bitter laugh. “Finally. You see what alcohol does to you, Lorc? It makes you real fucking slow.”

The sudden revelation hits me like a tornado, sending me backward. I grab onto the table for support. “No.”

“Easy there, alcoholic.”

My bark echoes off the cavernous ceilings. “You wouldn’t betray your family like that.”

“You’re right. I’d do anything to protect the Quinn legacy, which is exactly why I’m here today, in your face with a fucking gun, telling you that I’m working with the Bratnovs.” With a hard kick, he sends the dining table sliding across the room. “We’re losing our grip on this town by the day. Businesses trying to pay us in fake money. Some not even paying us at all. And then you cut off their supply with no warning? It’s a matter of time before they revolt, before other families see the chinks in our armor and try to take over. You didn’t think about that though, did you, Lorcan? No, because you’re too busy with your bottles of whiskey and your fancy antiques and weird fucking obsessions.” He spits on the ground next to him, inches from Alessandro’s lifeless body. “Poppy Murphy. You just had to have her, didn’t you? Well, now she’s back where she belongs.”

My throat tightens. Poppy. “Don’t play with me, Antoin. Where is she?”

“Back with her father.”

All the air is snatched from my lungs. It doesn’t even feel like my own voice when I bite, “You better fucking explain yourself.”

“Simmer down, cuz. I’m the one with the gun, remember?” He lowers it slightly, basking in his newfound power. “Luckily for you, I have all the time in the world to explain what’s been going on right under your drunken nose. We’re not in a rush, are we?” He sneers with an evil smile. “We’ve got nowhere to be, no one to save.”

The blood rushes to my fists and they itch to connect with his face. And in any other circumstance, I’d let them. If this had happened three months ago, I wouldn’t think twice about taking a bullet over Antoin’s betrayal. In fact, I’d probably welcome him putting me out of my goddamn misery.

But it’s not about me anymore. It’s about Poppy, and she needs me to save her. “Is Donnacha in on this?” I spit. He laughs. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Sorry, Boss, I’ll keep you guessing on that one a little while longer.”

I swallow the rage in my throat and steady myself. I have to get out of this alive for Poppy. No matter what it takes.

“Well, then. You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

“Good.” With a cold smile, he steps across Rodriguez’s body and flicks the barrel of his gun to two chairs strewn in the middle of the floor. “Sit.” Only when he sinks into one of them do I reluctantly lower into the one opposite. His gun follows me like a laser. “The thing about you, Lorc, is that you’ve always been predictably unpredictable. So, when you had Donnacha shoot that Bratnov kid outside Mickey’s, I knew exactly what was going on in that stupid head of yours. Idiots like you always want full power, and I know you didn’t have the brain cells to think about the price we’d have to pay to get it. So, when you asked me to fly to meet with the Colombians, I drove straight past the airport and went to New York.” A little more relaxed now, he throws his free arm over the back of the chair and laughs. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. I must have been crazy going to the Bratnovs after what you fucking did. His men shook me down a few times but eventually, Igor listened to what I had to say. See?” he says, cocking his head and raising his eyebrows at me. “That’s what real bosses do. They talk to each other. I tried to tell you, Lorcan, honestly, but—”

“Get to the point,” I snarl.

He purses his lips, raises his gun. “We had a very long chat. Yeah he’s a deranged bastard and I won’t be smoking cigars with him at the Gentleman’s Club anytime soon, but we ain’t so different, he and I. We agree on a lot. Like how the supply treaty benefits both families. How going to war for a few more square miles of territory isn’t worth the bloodshed. Oh, and that you—” he jabs his gun to point at me, “— need to go.”

“And who would replace me?” I mock him with a hard smile, “you?”

“Me,” he deadpans. “Fuck tradition. Fuck hierarchy. It should have always been me. While you were swanning around Europe collecting your little knick-knacks in the day and paying for blow jobs at night, I was at the office crunching numbers. In the Tunnels cracking jaws.” Eyes suddenly glassy, he shakes his head. “Donal would have wanted it to be me.”

Every time my father’s name comes out of his mouth it stabs me in the chest. “Put your gun down,” I growl, “fight me like a man.”

He snorts. “No chance. You’re a fucking animal. And that’s the key in being a successful boss,” he says simply, “knowing your strengths and weaknesses. You could rip me to shreds with your bare hands in under thirty seconds. But I knew I could out-wit you without barely lifting a finger. I did all of this,” he sweeps his free hand around the room, “right under your nose. Did you notice I always convinced you to let me interrogate the Bratnovs? You didn’t ask twice when I told you Viktor Bratnov was dead — shocker, he’s very much alive. Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Where were we? Ah, yes. I was telling you about my meeting with Bratnov. Very successful, if not surprising. Before I left, he told me that he has a new business partner.”

My blood runs cold. “Who?” I spit.

“Marcus Murphy.”

He lets the bastard’s name marinade between us. Fuck, how quick I’d risk taking that bullet just to land one punch on him, if it wasn’t for Poppy. My voice is strangled as I growl, “He betrayed our family.”

“Twice. Turns out, he knew exactly what was in the package that killed your father. Yeah, he hadn’t quite learned his lesson from teaming up with the West Coast Irish. He tried his luck with the Italians, and when that didn’t work out, he floated around for a few years until he went crawling down to New York to beg for Bratnov’s alliance. He’s really determined to build his empire again from scratch.”

I pin him with a lethal stare. “Murphy was working with the Italians?”

“Yup.” I rake my fingers through my beard and stare up at the ceiling for a minute. Grinding my molars, I say. “And you still want to work with him.”

“Yup.”

“Then you’re even more stupid than you think I am,” I snarl. “You really think he won’t betray you too?”

He chuckles. “Of course, but I’ll have a bullet in his head long before that happens. Murphy’s ruthless. I don’t have to tell you that. Men like him are useful to have onside when you’re waging war. When Bratnov and I have total control of the East Coast, then we’ll dispose of him”

“And Poppy?”

“I think Bratnov has a few plans for her,” he smiles cruelly.

The rage boils over and I leap to my feet. Antoin does too, cocking his gun to my head. “Easy there, Boss,” he murmurs with a trace of nerves. Even he’s not sure that he’ll be able to put a bullet in me faster than I can wrap my hands around his throat and choke the life out of him. “Your temper has always been what gets you in hot water.”

My breathing is ragged, the red mist clouding my vision. “You’ll never get my men to agree to this. They’ll turn against you—”

He cuts me off. “Taken care of. I have a few onside already, and the rest… disposable.” His smile hardens. “This whole keeping-it-in-the-family thing doesn’t work so well anymore. I’ll train new men that want to serve me, and not work for me just because they are born a male Quinn.” He takes a step closer, straightening his back and puffing out his chest. He’s so close that he pushes the barrel of the gun into my chest.

“You’re brave getting that close to me,” I growl, inches from his face. “I could reach out and claw your eyes out quicker than you can pull the trigger.”

“I’ll take the risk if it means I can look you in the eyes as you die, Boss,” he whispers back.

A gunshot rings out and I brace myself for the pain. Poppy’s face flashes in front of my eyes. Her desperate stare from across the table, laced with disbelief and betrayal. I hope you can escape, China Doll. I hope the key to your handcuffs is enough to set you free.

But the pain doesn’t come.

Instead, Antoin’s body crashes to the floor. A single bullet in his temple. Instinct kicks in and I grab the gun from his lifeless hand and point it in the direction of the attacker.

The one henchman left in the restaurant is pointing his AK-47 at me.

Cillian.

“Well would you look at that,” he drawls, eyes dipping to Antoin’s contorted body. “I saved your life.”

I stare at him in silence for a split second. “But why?”

He smiles. “Questions later. Right now we need to save Poppy. And lucky for you, I know exactly where she is.”