Mafia Games by Vi Carter

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

RICHARD

 

Killing is an art form that I’ve learned from a very young age. Leonard will be my masterpiece. Claire still trembles under me from her confession and from coming all over my fingers. My cock is throbbing painfully, with a want I won’t satisfy right now. She needed to allow herself to let go.

“I don’t know why I’m confessing this to you.” She frowns. Even her frown is beautiful.

She won’t look at me. “It’s a talent I have.” I hide the grin that wants to make an appearance. “People confess their deepest secrets to me.” Mostly by force or by some form of torture. Nonetheless, they confess.

This time when she looks up at me, with flushed cheeks and troubled eyes, I remind myself that Leonard will die slowly for what he has done to her. Killing a woman or child is something that you can’t come back from. Putting your hand on a woman is also something that I don’t give in to. To think Leonard broke her legs so she couldn’t save her parents. Leonard’s actions were a new kind of evil.

I cup her cheek and love when she leans into me. The fear that normally wraps itself around her is gone, and seeing her more comfortable makes me more determined to keep it that way. I want her trust. I don’t want her to fear me anymore.

I won’t put her back in the box.

I need her more than she needs me, and when I pull her into my chest, she doesn’t protest. I plant another kiss on the top of her head, her smell intoxicating and turning my cock to steel.

I release Claire. “I have to go.”

Shay and I agreed to meet to discuss the future of the O’ Reagans. Anyone else I would cancel on, but not him.

She nods and bites her lip that I had bitten. She hisses and releases her lip as fresh blood blossoms along the cut. She’s killing me here. My control is slowly slipping. I step away at the sight of the blood.

“You have free rein of the house. I’m sure you saw all the security, and Davy will be here.” I don’t want to say there is no escape, but I see the knowledge that she is being watched constantly flash behind her crystal blue eyes that widen.

“I don’t have to go back into the box?” Her chest rises and falls, and she looks fucking perfect in my t-shirt.

“No. I’ll have clothes arranged for you.” I’d have Mario do that while I’m gone.

She half-smiles, and if I don’t leave right now, I never will.

The moment I leave the pool, a crushing sensation tightens my chest. Taking out my phone distracts me as I send a text to Shay to tell him I’m on my way.

Davy intercepts me in the hallway. “Have Mario do some clothes shopping for Claire. Get her measurements.”

Davy doesn’t look pleased. He pushes up his glasses. “Where are you off to?”

“I’m meeting Shay.” I put the phone back in my pocket. “Claire is allowed around the house. Let her spend some time with Connor, too.”

Davy tilts his head, and the look of defiance on his face has me stopping. “Is there a problem?” The warning in my voice has Davy smirking.

“No problem, boss.”

Smart fucker. He never calls me boss. I don’t have time to find out what is wrong with him.

“I won’t be late.” I look back at the corridor that leads down to the pool and wonder if she’s still in there. Placing my fingers in my mouth, I taste her as I walk to the garage. Her juices are sweet, and my cock starts to harden all over again.

***

Shay is alone at the bar, nursing a pint. Some hurling match has captured his attention on the small TV screen. He doesn’t look away from the television as I pull up a stool beside him. “I honestly didn’t think you would show.”

The bartender wipes the counter a few feet away. Once his head rises, and he sees me, he walks over. “What can I get you?”

“Whatever he’s drinking,” I say.

“A pint of lager it is.”

I’m not a lager kind of man, but I would manage it on this occasion. “Out of all the places to meet, you picked this place?” I ask.

“Are you here to kill me?” Shay looks at me this time; there is no fear in his eyes.

The bartender arrives back with the pint. Taking out my wallet, I slide him a twenty and sit back down. “No. I’m here to talk.” I take a sip of the cold pint.

The bartender arrives back with my change before returning to wiping down tables. I pivot on the stool, so I’m facing Shay.

Shay takes out a cigarette box and lights up.

“You can’t smoke in here.” The bartender stops his cleaning and walks towards us. I sit back and see how Shay will handle this.

“Why don’t you make yourself busy and shut the pub down.” Shay takes another drag while the bartender laughs.

“Look here, sunshine, you might have a pretty face, but that’s not going to happen. Put out the smoke.” The bartender fills a glass with some water and slides it down to Shay to put out his cigarette.

I have never heard anyone refer to Shay as pretty. He always looks ready to chew someone’s face off.

“How much do you want?” Shay offers.

The bartender looks at us a bit differently, and I’m tempted to say our names. We are in Kells. Everyone here knows who we are.

“Five grand.” The bartender throws out the figure.

Shay grins. “You are one greedy cunt. You’ll get two.”

Two is two too many. Once again, I don’t interfere.

“Two?” The bartender questions.

“That’s what I said.” Shay flicks his ashes in the glass of water. There’s no one else in the bar, so giving him two grand is overkill. “He’s paying.” Shay points at me and grins.

This time when I look up at the bartender, I nod. “You’ll have your money. We O’ Reagan’s always pay up.”

Color leaves his face, and he moves promptly from behind the bar. He scurries out of the room to close the main doors.

“You could have said your name; this would have been free and a lot quicker,” I say.

“I hate the fucking name.” Shay fires back.

“You hate what it stands for, and that’s what I want to change. It can stand for so much more.”

“Does your da have a hit on me?” Shay throws the cigarette into the glass.

“Of course he does. You disrespected him.”

“He killed my fucking brother.” Anger twists Shay’s features.

“Lucian Sheahan ordered the kill. My father carried out his orders.”

“Never liked him.” Shay takes a drink.

“I’ll help you kill Lucian Sheahan.” I offer.

“I can do it myself.”

Maybe he could, but I am trying to offer an olive branch here, and killing the leader of the RA wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“Will you help me kill your da?” Shay asks.

“Would you help me kill yours?”

A warning flashes in Shay’s eyes.

“I’m not going to kill your father, Shay. But don’t expect me to kill mine.” My father had to be removed from the Irish Mafia by killing him, and I didn’t think I could do that.

“He will be removed. You have my word. If you don’t start to trust me, this won’t work.” Shay doesn’t trust me. I don’t blame him, but it’s a leap of faith that he will have to take. “I’m going to bring Jack in on everything.”

Shay sneers. “I’m sorry, but he put a gun to my head.”

I grin and pick up my drink. “He was protecting his father. We leave our fathers out of this.”

“So don’t tell Jack that we are going to clip your da?” Shay’s angry, I get that, but the idea of him shooting my father isn’t working for me. I take a drink and don’t break eye contact.

“I hope you will work with me on this, Shay.” I push the pint away from me and stand up. Disappointment has me pausing. “Killing my father won’t bring back your brother.”

I’m ready to walk away when Shay speaks.

“He has to die, Richard.”

I tighten my fists. “Why do you have to say that?” I’m turning back as Shay slides off the stool.

“If he’s removed, you think he will retire? Drag a blanket across his knees and suck on sweets at night? It will hang over our heads, every night, every day.” Shay steps closer to me. “Everyone we love will be a possible target. The only way to end this is….” He doesn’t finish his sentence. But I hear it. The only way to end this is by killing my father. How do I say yes to that? He’s right. I have no idea what to do with my father once I force him to step down.

“Maybe we will blackmail him.” I run my hands across my face before sitting back down. “He asked me to kill Finn.”

Shay’s laughter continues as he also sits back down. “Finn?”

It’s an odd look on Shay, but the surprise is there: it bleeds into disgust.

“Yes. He also knows how Cian died.”

Shay withdraws, and his features close down. My father having that knowledge about Cian, meant he has something on Shay too. The words hang between us. I don’t need to say them.

“Shane is his right-hand man. What would he think?”

Shay is watching me, not saying anything, and I regret bringing up Cian. But we are going to build this on honesty.

“I don’t give a shit that you took part in Cian’s death. I know it was Maeve. We could just use Finn as a way to blackmail him.”

“When he asked you to kill Finn, what did you say?”

The weight of his question is heavy. I could lie, but isn’t that what I’m trying to stop here? Yet giving him the truth will make it harder to convince Shay to work with me.

“I said yes.”

He shakes his head. “He’s your uncle.”

“You wanted the truth. There it is.”

Shay nods and sits back. “Blackmailing your father won’t be enough,” Shay admits, and he’s right. I’m happy he’s starting to really think about this.

“We could kill Finn and pin it on my father,” I say and take a drink.

“What the fuck?” Shay stops as I laugh. “You’re joking.” Shay sounds surprised, and I suppose we never let our guards down around each other.

I’m staring at the top row of spirits. “I want this to work.” I side-eye him. “Really work.”

He’s coming around. I can see it in his gaze. He holds his drink up to me, and I turn to face him while clinking my glass against his.

“You double-cross me, and I will kill you like I killed Carlos.”

“I won’t. You better not cross me, either.” I grin, but my threat is serious.

We drink our drinks to seal the deal.

“We take down Sheahan first,” Shay growls. This is the problem with emotions: we never see things clearly. He’s out for blood, and I need to make Shay spill it very fucking slowly, or we will bring the whole RA down on our heads.

“Killing Sheahan will have to be tactfully dealt with.”

“Are you saying I’m not tactful?”

“You’re a bulldozer.”

Shay’s laughter has me relaxing further. “We need someone on the inside. Someone who would double-cross him.”

“How the fuck do we find someone like that?” Shay asks.

“I don’t know. But you know Sheahan.”

Shay shakes his head. “No, but I know someone who does. My da.”

My father knew him too, but that was not a road I would go down. “We talk to your father.”

Shay is already shaking his head. “You think I’m a bulldozer, my da….” He shakes his head. Pain refills his eyes.

“Okay.” I touch Shay’s shoulder, and he tenses under my hand. “We will find a way. We take down Lucian and then my father.”

Shay finishes his drink and lights up another cigarette. “When do you bring Jack up to speed on all this?”

“I’ll talk to him soon.”

I get up, happy with how this went.

“Don’t forget to pay the bartender,” Shay says.

The weight I felt arriving here has lifted slightly. I leave the bar and find the bartender sitting on a bench inside the door. His head snaps up, and he stands.

“You can re-open. I’ll have someone deliver your money.”

“No, there’s no need.” He shuffles nervously. “Shane O’Reagan owns this pub.”

That isn’t knowledge I am aware of, but the idea of Shane knowing that Shay and I had met could be a problem. I’m staring too long at the bartender.

His Adam's apple bobbles. “I didn’t see you.” Fear has his words low.

I curse. Why the fuck did he just say that? I didn’t want to kill him. Did Shay know Shane owned this pub? Is that why he picked it?

I grip the door and leave the bartender alive. Shane’s bartender, I remind myself. I can only hope Shay didn’t fuck me over, but the coincidence that we met at this bar has my hope dwindling.