Mafia Games by Vi Carter

CHAPTER THIRTY

RICHARD

 

Jack hasn’t spoken since we left our sister in Shay’s hands. He’s staring out the window of my car as I drive him home. We gave Jack’s Range Rover to Shay to take Dana straight to Cillian, who agreed to keep her safe. One of the conditions was that Shay would follow Cillian’s directions, no questions asked. It’s terrifying to put my sister in someone else’s hands, but until this whole mess with Lucian Sheahan and my father is resolved, there is no safe place for Dana.

When the shit hits the fan, everyone we love will become a pawn, so the fewer pawns lying around, the fewer people we risk losing. It brings my mind back to Claire. She isn’t safe from this either. My house is like a fortress, but if my father gets wind of our plans, an army won’t hold him back.

I take another look at Jack. His jaw is clenched as he stares out the window. “You’ve been quiet lately.” I want to say you have been quiet since the meeting at the Loch Leigh Mountains.

“Have I?” Jack sits up, and something is really bothering him, but I zero in on Maeve. She is a problem.

There is so much I want to say. Each time I open my mouth to speak, I close it. My jaw still aches from Jack’s left hook, and if I speak my mind, I’m sure he’ll hit me again. So, I go to softer ground.

“How is Maeve?” I ask.

“Don’t start with me, Richard.” Jack bites.

So the topic of Maeve in any capacity will cause a problem. I bite the bullet. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but we have to discuss the possibility that she has told someone else.”

“She hasn’t.” Jack barely contains himself.

“Did you know she told Dana?” I ask.

He glares at me. “Of course not.”

“So, how can you be so sure she hasn’t told someone else?”

“She wouldn’t.” Jack grinds out.

Once again, I want to ask how he can be so sure. This time, I do stay quiet. It’s his neck, and Shay’s on the line. He has got to know that. Maeve has dragged our sister into this mess.

“She’s been struggling with Cian’s death.” Jack looks at me. “I can’t have anyone hurt her.”

I’m ready to protest and say I wouldn’t, but my sister would take priority if it came down to Dana and Maeve.

“You wouldn’t understand. You don’t care for anyone.” Jack pipes up.

We reach his house, and I pull up at the gates. “I actually have someone at home.”

Jack quirks an eyebrow. “Really?” Jack doesn’t believe me.

“Yes, right now, she’s painting a picture of me.” That’s what I like to think anyway.

Jack opens the door. “Why can’t you take anything seriously?”

“I am.”

Jack gets out but holds the door open. “Do you really trust Shay?”

Did I?

“I trust him just as much as I trust you,” I admit.

“That’s fucking brilliant.” Jack sneers. He slams the door and storms off.

So much for telling the truth. I drive home, wondering if Claire has drawn a picture of me like I had asked. The memory of what we did in the art room has me driving faster. I don’t live too far from Jack’s and pull up to the gates that open. I hit the remote as I roll up the driveway. The garage door rises, and when I reach the entrance, I drive in and turn off the engine.

I remove the gun from my waistband and put it in the glove compartment before getting out of the car. The garage doors close down, and the light slips away. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull the device out. My father’s name flashes across the screen. I hit the mute button and enter the kitchen and place the phone on the counter.

My brain registers the blood, the overturned furniture, the dead dog. I reach for my gun in the waistband of my trousers. Only I remember my gun is in the glove compartment of my car. I’m listening while I slide the drawer open beside me and take out a sharp steak knife. Entering the hall, my gaze zeroes in on the trail of blood marks on the wall. They lead me in the opposite direction of the art room. I try not to allow my mind to process that part; the art room was the last place that Claire was. I stop at a hall table and reach under it. The gun holder is empty. The revolver has been removed.

I keep moving, following the trail of blood that stops at the door to the basement. Before entering, I open the closet to the left and reach in for a gun that’s always stashed under a stack of towels. Once again, my hands come up empty. There is only one person who knows where all the weapons are stashed in the house.

Davy.

Betrayal is a funny thing. After being betrayed by the people you trust the most, you would think that it would make the betrayal less painful, but it doesn’t. Each step I take down the stairs has my stomach sinking further. There is blood on every step. The basement is lit up as I clear the last step. I stop at the glass box. The door is open, blood trails the whole way to the bed where Claire lies under the duvet. She isn’t moving, and that alone has me racing to her. Forgetting everything else, I stuff the knife into my pocket as I drag the blanket aside. Blood has soaked into the duvet, and as I grip the blanket, I pull it back. I’m spinning away from the pillows that have been laid out to appear like a body when the door to the box slams shut.

“Open the door.” I march towards my father. “Where is Claire?” I ask the question that has the fear of God in me. “What did you do to her?”

My father doesn’t flinch as I slam both fists into the glass wall. I expect the glass to tremble under my wrath, but the glass doesn’t budge, a testament to the wall's stability.

“This is quite impressive, I must admit.” My father waves his hand toward the box. “Genius.” He moves along the perimeter.

I match him step for step. “Where is she?”

“Davy told me of the purpose behind this box. To torture your enemy by taking away someone they loved. I’m happy to hear some of my lessons stuck. I really was starting to question if you ever listened to me at all.”

My fists collide with the glass again, and my father stops walking. We are face to face. “Where is she?”

“Claire is upstairs,” he says.

“Is she alive?”

“That clearly depends on you.” My father doesn’t smile or give an evil laugh. He’s the same man who stood at my bedroom door and said goodnight, or the one who placed a gun in my hand for the first time. He’s the man who wears only one face. He’s Liam O’ Reagan, my father. The head of the Irish Mafia. He didn’t get there by being kind. He didn’t place me here for fun. Everything he did and said had a purpose.

“What do you want?” I ask the question he really wants me to ask.

“You are going to tell me what you and Shay are up to. I hear you have been meeting behind my back.”

“I’m trying to convince him to return as a King. We need him,” I say.

“We never need people, Richard. Jack, you and me. We are enough.”

I step away from the wall, my gaze darts to the blood-soaked bed. “Is she dead? Is that her blood?” Words pump out of me, and I see the disappointment in my father’s eyes that I can’t keep my emotions under control. My panic is unraveling quicker than I expected, but each glance at the blood-soaked blankets makes my stomach curl in on itself.

“Forget about her for a moment.” My father starts.

My fists slam into the glass. “No!”

“I will leave you down here to rot. Three years in your own cage seems like a fitting sentence for lying to me.” My father’s threat is real.

I built this cage. I know there is no way out. I try to push down my fear for Claire and focus on getting out of here.

“That’s better.” My father says as I reel in my anger. “Final time. What are you and Shay up to? Davy informed me of your secret meetings.”

I push Davy's betrayal aside. I’ll have my revenge.

“Shay knows you bought the uncharted ground up the North. He knows you are behind his brother’s death. He wants revenge. He wants your head.”

My father doesn’t look surprised. “Yet, my head is still on my shoulders. Are you telling me that it is because of you?”

“No. It’s because he isn’t stupid. I want to be a King; I want to rule the Irish Mafia. I never betrayed our purpose. I only tried to convince Shay to return as a King.”

My father glares at me, and when he nods his head, something close to hope of getting out of the box blossoms in my chest.

“Shay is very much like Connor. They bury the hatchet in your back and not the ground.”

My father starts to move around the perimeter, and I move with him.

“I always expected Shay’s betrayal. Not yours, Richard.” My father stops walking. “Jack’s loyalty, on the other hand, that honestly was completely unexpected.”

My stomach sours at his words.

I see the glee in my father’s eyes.

What have you done, Jack?

“You had your chance to tell me, Richard. To tell me how you and Shay tried to convince Jack to dig up Bernard’s body. At first, I have to say, I was very impressed with your thinking.”

Everything I had worked for crumbles around me—Jack, Davy, and now my father. The betrayal and disloyalty will never stop with our family.

“If it’s any consolation, Jack was conflicted when he confessed to me what you have been up to. He also seemed very concerned about your mental state.”

“It’s no consolation,” I growl. “What do you want?” he isn’t telling me all this for nothing.

My father’s hand hits the glass. His anger is unexpected. I’m not able to hide my reaction from him. I flinch.

“I want a son who won’t plot my death. I want a leader we can follow. All I get is you, a disappointment. You and Shay plotting my death is your demise and his.”

My father turns away, but I see the look in his eyes. He’s torn. He’s never torn. I still have time to convince him to release me and let Claire live.

“I never plotted your death,” I admit. “I never would have let you die.”

“You will say anything to get out of that box, but it’s too late, Richard.” My father looks me dead in the eye.

“You will die in this box, your own creation. Right now, Shay is driving, and I have a hit on him. He won’t be alive much longer.”

Each word has the blood draining from me. I’m shaking my head.

“You left me no choice.” My father tries to defend his actions.

“Shay isn’t alone.”

My father starts to walk away, ignoring my words. Leaving me here to die. “Dana is with Shay.” I roar.

My father stops and glances at me.

“Dana is with Shay, you take that kill shot, and you’re risking Dana, too.”

My father isn’t convinced, but he hasn’t left. He takes a phone out of his pocket and makes a call.

My heart beats too fast as I wait.

“You have your eyes on the target?” My father’s words aren’t quick enough for me. “Is there anyone else in the vehicle?”

My father walks back to me and holds the phone away from his ear. “Where is he taking my daughter?”

I don’t answer. “Abort.” My father speaks into the phone. “You heard me. Do not take that shot.”

“Where is he taking my daughter?” My father asks again.

“I want to see Claire.”

My father shakes his head. “This is not the time for bargaining. Your sister is at risk.”

I nod my head in agreement. “She is. She’s in a lot of trouble, and I can’t imagine how Mother will feel.”

My father grinds his teeth, and I’m surprised when he makes another call. “Bring her down.”

He stuffs the phone back into his pocket. “When you see Claire, then you tell me where he’s taking Dana.”

Footsteps on the stairs have me wanting to race to the door, but I don’t move. Davy is the first to enter, and he has the audacity to meet my eyes. I can’t wait to kill him.

When Davy steps to the side, it’s not Claire I’m looking at, but Leonard, and in his arms is Claire. She isn’t alert, her head is bent back, and she’s pale, her complexion frightening.

“She needs a doctor,” I speak in a low voice, my body ready to snap.

“You have seen her. Now, where is Shay taking your sister?”

I tighten my fists. “Is she dead?” I need to know. Claire doesn’t look alive.

Leonard rattles her, her head snaps back and forth, but she stirs. He grins at me. The longer I stare at him, I notice he’s not looking too healthy himself.

“I want to see for myself,” I say.

“I suppose you want us to let you out.” My father sneers with little to no patience.

“Bring her in here to me.”

My father doesn’t answer.

“What difference does it make? You said I’m going to die here. I want her with me,” I say.

“She’s not going in there,” Leonard speaks up.

“I’ll tell you where Dana is going,” I speak to my father.

My father nods at Davy.

“Give her to me,” Davy orders Leonard, but he won’t release Claire.

“This isn’t part of the deal.” Leonard starts, his hold tightens on Claire.

“This is the final warning, Leonard. I have an important matter about my daughter that I need to resolve. So hand over Claire.”

“No. You said…” His words get cut off as Davy raises a gun to his head. I want to roar at Davy, ‘that’s my kill,’ but he pulls the trigger.

The noise bounces off the walls, and I’m reaching as Leonard’s dead body hits the ground with Claire still in his arms. Davy drags Claire away from Leonard by the arms. He dumps her on the ground and points the gun to her head. “Tell your father what he needs to know.”

“I saw you as a friend.” I start.

He cocks the gun, and I don’t look away from Davy. He will pull the trigger.

“Dana found out that Maeve, Jack, and Shay killed Cian. She came to me for help.”

“So you gave her to Shay?”

When I look at my father, I see how the effect of losing Dana is slowly robbing him of his mask from his normally stoic face.

“She knows what we do. We told her. He’s taking her somewhere safe until she comes to terms with who we are. It was the best choice we had.”

My father doesn’t look happy at all. “Where has he taken my daughter?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. I want to look at Davy again. He still holds a gun to Claire’s head, but I focus on the man in charge.

“Richard.” I hear the warning clearly in my father’s voice.

“I know who he is taking her to.”

My father blinks in shock. “Who?”

“Cillian O’Hara.”

“You gave your sister to Cillian O’Hara?” He asks.

“Yes. I didn’t know what else to do.”

My father’s earlier emotions are erased from his face. “Put away the gun, Davy.”

I glance at Davy, and my relief is short-lived as he puts the gun away. Something troubling has taken hold of Davy’s features. There is that instinct to ask Davy what’s wrong but all I can think about is getting to Claire. My father isn’t going to just let this go.

My father takes out his phone and makes another call. “Have you still got eyes on Shay?” He steps away from me. “What do you mean, you lost him?”

I take a peek at Davy, who’s watching me still wearing a troubling look. “You’re going to die,” I promise him.

He doesn’t respond but pushes up his glasses and turns to my father like he didn’t hear me.

“Something wrong?” I ask my father when he ends the call.

“Shay knew my men were following him and managed to lose them.”

This is why I picked Shay to take her to safety. He would go to any lengths to get the job done. He is a man I want to rule with.

I should have let him take my father’s life.

My father turns to leave.

“Don’t leave me here.”

My father stops walking. “You will die in this box, Richard. Because you can’t be trusted.”

“Get her to a hospital. She’s innocent.”

My father smiles, and it chills me to the bone. “No one is innocent. She’s nearly dead. You can watch her take her final breath. Consider it a parting gift to you,” My father turns to Davy. “Let’s go.”

“Davy, don’t. Don’t do this.” My words fall on deaf ears as they leave me to watch Claire die.