Carson: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Dangerous Doms)

by Jane Henry

  If I choose a member of the Clan, I’m in this for life. All of it. The good, the bad, the ugly. Their old-fashioned, domineering, but protective ways. Their fierce loyalty and dedication to Clan code. The battles that take lives.

  Lachlan parks the car.

  “Show me, Megan,” Lachlan says. “I want to see.”

  I show him everything Carson taught me. How to cock it, how to hold it, how to aim. When I hold it cocked in both hands, he grasps the barrel of the gun and points it to the floorboards of the car with a nervous laugh. “Easy, now, lass, I’d like to go home with my bollox intact, aye?”

  “Aye,” I say, chuckling. I’m pretty sure Fiona would eventually appreciate that as well, I think. I don’t say it aloud, though. “I know the safety rules, too, but I didn’t think that’s what you wanted me to demonstrate.”

  “Bloody hell,” Lachlan mutters.

  “Where do you think he’s gone?” I ask. “Anyone know?”

  “The old, abandoned church is headquarters for the O’Gregors,” Lachlan says. “But they could be anywhere. We know he’s hacked into their private system, don’t we?”

  Lachlan’s phone rings, and he frowns at it. I see Fiona flash on the screen. He answers it on the second ring.

  He frowns into the phone, but his face softens a bit. I don’t miss how his whole body tightens, though. Fiona’s upset.

  “Easy, now, lass. Speak slowly so I can understand you.” He’s quiet for a moment, then he mutters, “Jesus. Where are you right now, this very minute?” He nods. Boner and Tully stand by, ready to listen and help. They eye me nervously but I only shrug. I’ve no idea what the problem is.

  “Do not leave the mansion. Do you have a guard nearby?” He nods though she can’t see him. “Put him on the phone.”

  Another beat passes, and I’m assuming the guard’s on the phone. Lachlan shifts, his voice hardening. “Take Fiona to the bunker, now. See to it every woman of the Clan is under protection and if not, they go as well. Do it now. Lock down every gate and entrance to the mansion. We’re in immediate lock down.”

  Boner starts bouncing on his feet, eager to find out what’s happened and to knock heads or take lives, as it were. Tully draws himself up to his full height of very, very tall, his arms crossed on his chest as if he’s prepared for a beat down. Lachlan hangs up the phone and turns to us.

  “Can’t get ahold of Keenan, Nolan, or Cormac,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve sent those at home into lock down.” A muscle ticks in his jaw bone he tells us what happened. “Maeve and Breena have been taken.”

  Chapter 17

  Carson

  Though I’m in Stone City, my heart’s back in Ballyhock. I can’t forget the way Megan’s eyes filled with tears, the way she shook as if I betrayed her. I know now that I love her, and when I told her I did, I said it with every bit of conviction I could muster.

  I love her.

  For a time, I struggled, wondering if loving Megan somehow betrayed Eve. But I know better now. Loving Megan no more betrays Eve than a parent loving a second child. I’ll never get over losing Eve. But my life wasn’t the one that ended that day.

  I focus myself on what I have to do next.

  I have to draw the O’Gregors out and end the lives of those responsible for Eve’s death. This knowledge fills me with conviction. My path is clear.

  I sent the O’Gregors a message as their anonymous contact, the one they’ve come to trust and depend on.

  Early shipment arrived at the pier. Will bring Class A to the warehouse at noon, if your men can assemble. Bring as many as you can, the shipment is larger. Everything you ordered.

  It’s nothing they fucking ordered. He thinks it’s cases upon cases of warehouse-priced opiates. O’Gregor will shite his fucking pants thinking his day has arrived.

  And then I’ll end them.

  One.

  By.

  One.

  I park my car and wear the clothes that’s become my uniform when I come here. Black hooded shirt and black jeans, even my shoes are black as pitch. The only way to get to the warehouse is by foot, though there’s a single loading dock in the back. It’s the best way for the O’Gregors to manage every in and out in this small location. Tonight, they won’t see me. I’ve already mapped out a place for a sniper’s shot. I’ve brought everything I need.

  The warehouse is situated beside the old, abandoned church that serves as their headquarters. I’m assuming the majority of them are assembled there, as there are motorbikes and cars parked all along the edge.

  I see where I need to go, the passage marked clearly for me. I’ve spent my time preparing for just this moment, though I didn’t know it would come so early. I’ve noted everything I could as I spied on the O’Gregors. Every access point, every code they use, and the dumb fucking bastards never suspected a thing.

  I head up the hill to my hideout when I hear a plaintive voice loud and clear. For a moment, I actually think I might be hallucinating. Because it can’t be.

  There is no way.

  “Hush, wee girl. We’ll be alright. Hold onto granny’s hand, Breena.”

  No.

  No.

  A chill shudders through me, and for a full minute, I forget to breathe.

  They’ve taken Maeve and Breena? Putting hands on the women and children of the Clan breaks iron-clad code. I’m so furious with what they’ve done, my entire body quakes with fury.

  I’ll kill every last motherfucking one of them.

  Where are the voices coming from? I kneel and pause, one knee on the ground, listening. Maeve’s voice, low as a hum, wafts over to me. She’s singing to Breena to keep her quiet. The sound comes from the old church.

  I creep as quietly as I can, abandoning my initial plan. I need to see where they’ve hidden them. I need to see if they’re okay.

  My phone rings, with calls and texts, but I shut it off and shove it in my pocket. They’ve likely found I left and will eventually come to pursue me. But I can’t let anyone know I’m here. Not even Keenan.

  I get to the window of the old church but see nothing inside. From where I’m standing, the old benches sit on the left, and to the right, the old altar. Where the altar once stood sits the chair of Guy O’Gregor.

  I shudder. My father.

  At first, I don’t see them, but as I move to go past the window, I see the tiniest peak of wee Breena’s little shoe, poking out from under the curtain of the confessional. They’ve either been hidden there, then, or Maeve took her there for cover.

  I hear voices suddenly coming my way, and I roll under a bush beside the window. I lie still and hear the approaching sound of boots on gravel.

  “You got them secured?” One of the manky sons of bitches stands right over me to my left. All he’d have to do is part the leaves and he’d see me.

  “Aye,” he says.

  “Didn’t hurt the child?”

  A man wearing a torn green shirt shakes his head. “No, but if the brat cries again, I fucking will, and gladly.” He spits on the ground. “Easy as pie, like taking out their feckin’ spy.”

  The men laugh. So he’s planning on hurting my child and he had a hand in Eve’s death?

  He’ll go first.

  “You stay here and keep guard while we assemble,” one of the older men says. I’m assuming he’s Captain or similar in rank.

  “Aye,” the bastard who fucking planned to hurt my child says.

  The others leave, and I roll gently from my hiding spot. He takes a step toward the church and yawns widely. He’s an easy target. My silencer’s in place. I cock my gun. With perfect, practiced precision, I pull the trigger. My aim is sure, hitting him straight between the eyes. He doesn’t have time to scream as his body twitches and slumps to the ground.

  One down.

  Inside the church, the O’Gregor clan begins to assemble. I know every last motherfucker in there. I’ve watched them, tracked them, hacked into their private accounts with the express intent of fuck
ing things up. And now it’s time.

  They killed my woman. They took my daughter. The O’Gregors will pay.

  Their meeting is nothing like ours, with the easy camaraderie of the McCarthy clan and clear leadership with Keenan as chief and Cormac as captain. Once Guy O’Gregor calls the meeting to order, a row begins with the first two men sitting in the front. I know who they are. The bastards were fucking a pair of women at a local seedy club not two hours ago. I’ve tracked them, watched how sloppy they are with their financial transactions and pursuits, their biggest priorities sticking their filthy cocks in whomever they can find. Disgusting.

  They bicker back and forth, one sneering at the other, until O’Gregor’s had enough and barks at them. They slump in their seats and seethe.

  One of the men talks back to O’Gregor, questioning a decision and shaking his head when O’Gregor gives him an answer he doesn’t like. These men disgust me. They talk about the people in their city who’ve overdosed with their illicit drugs with no regret whatsoever. It’s simply business, as they talk about who to set up next for their sales.

  “Found a few,” one thin, scrawny guy at the back says.

  “You want us to hire fucking teens?” O’Gregor asks. As if that’s stopped him before? Sheena’s brother Tiernan was only sixteen when the O’Gregors hired him as a runner.

  “Why not? They have no jobs or ties yet and we can pay them half of what we paid the others.”

  O’Gregor nods. “Good point.”

  My God, they disgust me.

  No one mentions Breena and Maeve, hidden in the confessional. I don’t see the top of her shoe anymore. I wonder if Maeve took her in there on purpose. My hand shakes on my gun, with the need to kill those responsible for abducting them. And for the first time since I came, I wish my brothers were here with me. It was fucking stupid to come here alone.

  I turn around and sit with my back to the church. I pull out my phone and check my tracking. The majority of the men are here, though some are heading down to the dock, preparing to intercept another transaction.

  I send O’Gregor a message on my burner phone. I hear him inside, pausing mid-sentence.

  “Bloody hell, boys,” he says, his voice laced with greedy anticipation. “Our day has arrived. Just got a message, offering a discount on an early shipment if we send our men now.”

  One of the men speaks up. “Guy, you sure you can trust them? Seems awfully convenient, doesn’t it?”

  Fucker.

  “He hasn’t let us down yet.” My stomach clenches. He’s right. I fucking haven’t. To solidify our connection and instill confidence in our communication, I’ve given him everything he’s needed, and there were plenty of times doing so went against my gut instinct, my core values. I’ve compromised myself in my pursuit of justice.

  I’d do it again.

  “Go,” Guy says. “I want all of you to follow my lead.”

  I hear the scraping of chairs and men getting to their feet and realize I’m not in the best hiding place. They’re going to see their dead clan member on the ground, and they’ll be looking for the one responsible.

  I quickly drag the body under the cover of overgrown brush, then slink away to where I’ve mapped my sniper position. I’ve got the ammo, the targets, and a clear shot. I watch them as they leave, one by one, only four all together. O’Gregor’s inner circle is much smaller than the McCarthys, but this doesn’t surprise me at all.

  I raise the gun to my shoulder, take aim, and just as I’m about to pull the trigger, feel someone grab me from behind. I fall to the ground. I come up fighting, and deck whoever’s had the fucking bollox to grab me. I blink in surprise when I see Lachlan doubled over, wheezing.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” he says in between breaths. “Not gonna let you pick off every fucking O’Gregor.” He’s not alone. I glare at the others who came with him but freeze when I see Megan.

  “What the fuck are you playing at?” I ask him. I grab her arm and tug her down to the ground. “Get fucking down! You’re an easy target up here. If they see you…” She looks at me, bewildered, but falls to the ground.

  “Wrap your arms around your legs and don’t move.”

  I could beat Lachlan to within an inch of his life, and Christ almighty, I might do it yet.

  “Had to stop you, brother,” Lachlan says. “Would’ve come sooner, but we had fucking car trouble.” He grimaces. “And I know you wouldn’t want to bring her, but we wanted to keep her safe.”

  But she won’t meet my eyes. I want to gather her up in my arms and kiss her, hold her to me and promise that I won’t hurt her. Assure her that she’s safe, and that no harm will come to her. No one will hurt her. Even me.

  “For Christ’s sake,” I mutter. “I wanted her home safe.”

  I wonder what she’s thinking. Here’s the bloke who swore me off and sent me away, and now he’s ready to kill for me? Which one am I?

  But I don’t hold her or pull her to me or ease those fears or answer those questions. Our silent conversation takes place in seconds, as I don’t have the luxury of time for such a thing, for the O’Gregors are nearly out of sight. Goddammit.

  “They’ve got Maeve and Breena,” I tell Lachlan. I shove him, I’m so furious he’s interfered.

  “I know,” Lachlan says. “And we’ll get them now, but Christ, Carson, you come in guns blazing without backup and you’ve got a bloody war on your hands.”

  “Which is what we just agreed to.”

  “Together,” Lachlan corrects, getting to his feet and glaring at me. “Not solo. What are you playing at, coming out here on your own when you’ve got a brotherhood behind you? Are you mad?”

  “Shut it, you two, or we’ll miss our chance,” Tully says. “Where are they going?”

  “The wharf,” I tell them. “I’ve sent messages to them. They’re going to get a fake shipment.”

  “You’re bloody brilliant, you know,” Tully says with a shake of his head.

  “Not so sure about that,” I tell him. “I sent them out so I could get Maeve and Breena, but then how do we get them?” I shove Lachlan. “I was planning on fucking sniping, and I bloody well would’ve gotten them.”

  Lachlan doesn’t even budge, but he isn’t angry with me either. His eyes gentle, and he shakes his head. “You lost Eve,” he says. “And for that, the O’Gregors will pay. We’ll see to that, Carson. But you don’t want more blood on your hands than is absolutely necessary.”

  Megan swallows and looks away, as if she can’t process what we’re talking about or how we fucking justify any of this. I can’t look at her, not now.

  We hear a commotion up ahead, and all of us turn in the general direction of what we hear. Loud voices, shouts, the shuffling of feet, and telltale sounds of flesh hitting flesh.

  “Bloody O’Gregors, fighting amongst themselves like fucking children,” Lach says, shaking his head, when a few of the men come rolling out into the open. I grab my gun, prepared to shoot, but this time it’s Megan that stops me. Her hand on the gun, she yanks it away.

  “Don’t, Carson,” she says in a firm but gentle voice. I yank the gun away from her, glaring at her, but she doesn’t back down.

  “Guy O’Gregor! Show yourself.”

  We all freeze at the sound of Keenan’s deep, commanding voice.

  Guy O’Gregor stands to the side of the fray, scowling at his charges.

  “Keenan McCarthy,” he says pleasantly between clenched teeth. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Keenan doesn’t crack a smile but glares, and as he comes into the clearing, I see Cormac and Nolan on either side of him, armed and furious. At the look on their faces, I suspect the three McCarthy brothers could take down the entire O’Gregor clan without breaking a sweat.

  “You’ve broken code with multiple infractions,” Keenan says, like a judge about to bang a gavel. “And we’ve got you surrounded.”

  O’Gregor starts, staring around, but he can’t see us. Keenan knows, th
ough.

  “Carson!” he shouts. “Show us.”

  Lachlan and Megan back up. I take aim and shoot. A small twig right next to O’Gregor’s foot splinters into bits.

  “Bloody hell!” he shouts. His men reach for their weapons, but Keenan holds up his hand.

  “Weapons away!”

  O’Gregor nods. “Put them away, lads.” Only one of his men obeys, and the others ignore his instructions. He has absolutely no command of them at all.

  “Admit to the evidence, and we’ll allow you to leave alive,” Keenan says. “Though you’ve committed enough crimes to be punishable by death, three times over.”

  We will? Bloody hell, Keenan. I don’t want them to leave. I want them to die.

  O’Gregor pales.

  “McCarthy clan, assemble,” Keenan shouts. Jesus. We’ve no choice but to obey.

  We don’t hesitate and leave our hiding places to join our brothers. O’Gregor narrows his eyes at us.

  “You fucking—”

  “Hold your tongue,” Keenan snaps. “Your men are responsible for the death of Carson’s Eve.”

  O’Gregor swallows but doesn’t respond. Keenan continues.

  “You hijacked the opiate trade into Ireland and claimed it as your own. You planned retaliation on our clan, and furthermore, took both my mother, the clan matriarch, and the daughter of one of my men tonight.”

  “Did no such thing!” O’Gregor says.

  “One of your men did,” Keenan says tightly. Keenan jerks his head to Cormac. “Find them, Cormac.”

  “I know where they are,” I say. O’Gregor’s eyes come to me.

  Keenan nods. “Can you get them, Carson?”

  “No,” O’Gregor says. “I don’t trust him. Send someone else, or negotiations are off the table.”

  The son of a bitch doesn’t know how I’ve led them, how I’ve tracked their every move. He has no fucking clue at all.

  “I’ll go,” Megan says. “Where are they?”

  “No, you will bloody not,” I begin, but Keenan shakes his head.

  “Megan can handle herself. Send her.”