Brush of Despair (Dublin Devils Book 2)

by Selena Laurence

  Ice flooded Cian’s veins. Robbie’s insults no longer stung, they merely added another layer to the armor he wore day in and day out. A steel so thick, he could withstand anything Robbie might hurl at him.

  “Be that as it may, we’re all you’ve got. Tell Ma I had to run. She can feed me next time.” He stood and walked out of his father’s house.

  It was midnight when Cian arrived at the small park that fronted a portion of the Chicago river outside of downtown. The texts had been pinging on his phone for the last four hours, and his patience was worn beyond thin.

  He stepped away from the light provided by the one overhead near the picnic tables and made his way to the edge of the grass where the bank rolled down to the dark water. A cool breeze drifted up from the surface of the river, and he realized he was sweating beneath his short-sleeved button-down. Sometimes he wondered how much stress a man’s thirty-four-year-old body could take before he stroked out or dropped dead from his heart exploding. If he had many more days like today, he’d probably get the answer to that question soon.

  “You finally pissed Don off so much, you’re stuck with me,” Bruce said as he slid up alongside Cian, a cigarette dangling from one hand.

  Cian stepped away from Bruce. “You know they made those e-cigs so you don’t have to poison the rest of us with your secondhand smoke.”

  The federal agent muttered something less than polite but dropped the butt on the ground and crushed it beneath his dress shoe heel.

  “So start talking.” Bruce’s voice was weary. Cian was willing to bet the fed had been living through a hell of a day as well. Not that he gave a shit. Bruce dropping dead from the stress would only make Cian’s life easier—at least for a while.

  “You knew the Russians were in town,” he answered as nonchalantly as possible.

  “Yeah, and we figured they’d be pushing your borders, but we didn’t think things would escalate quite this fast. What the hell did you do?”

  “It’s possible we took something they thought belonged to them.”

  “Fuck.” Bruce spat on the ground before shoving his hands in the front pockets of his very unstylish slacks. “I thought you were trying to keep your brothers alive and out of prison. Stealing from the Russians sounds like a one-way ticket to the morgue.”

  The water lapped quietly against the shore, and Cian breathed deeply, wondering what it would feel like to slip beneath the cold surface and let nature take over. Quiet. Cool. Numb. What a relief it would be to just let go once and for all. Turn his back on all of it—on all of them—and rest. Really rest.

  He cleared his throat as he tried to clear the thoughts, because, tempting as they might be, he couldn’t, and he knew it.

  “What we took didn’t belong to the Russians. It was something they should never have had in the first place. Trust me, we were the good guys here, but they’re pissed, and they’ll use it as an excuse to go scorched earth.”

  “Well, on behalf of the people of Chicago, I’d like to thank you. Scorched earth will undoubtedly take out more civilians like the woman who died in the apartment explosion today.”

  Cian sighed deeply. He felt sorry for the life lost, but in the midst of his current battles, he didn’t have time to focus on her or anyone other than his nearest and dearest.

  “You got me here. What do you want to know?”

  Bruce stepped closer, his voice dropping even as it grew more venomous. “We want to fucking know how to end the Russians. It’s not rocket science, MacFarlane.”

  “Apparently, it is, since the Bratva have been in the States for decades and you haven’t been able to stop them yet. You’ve had all that time to figure this out while they’ve been living off America’s weaknesses for drugs and sex. Either it’s exactly that hard or the government’s exactly that stupid.”

  Cian could feel the other man’s anger rolling off him, but Bruce had come without backup, so he wouldn’t be lunging at Cian tonight. Bruce might be a wild hair away from doing something stupid most days, but he didn’t actually want to die.

  The fed released a long shuddering breath, and Cian laughed bitterly in the dark. “Good choice,” he muttered.

  “Give us something, MacFarlane,” Bruce ground out. “Or we’ll tell the locals to look harder for Liam. You know it’s only a matter of hours before they find out that apartment was his. They’re going to want to talk to him. I can make that go away or I can ramp it up. Your choice.”

  “I gave you the address of the brothel they’re running. I’m not sure what else you think I know.”

  “We’ve been watching it, but we already know we won’t be able to tie it to anyone. If we raid, we’ll get a handful of low-level soldiers who can’t tell us anything about the organization. They say ‘da’ when told to shoot, that’s about it.” He paused. “But you’re going to answer what happened today. How? When? Where? If you’ll coordinate with us, I’ll make sure none of your men are taken in when the bullets stop flying.”

  Cian snorted in disdain. “You really think we’re that stupid? That we’d go at the Bratva with guns? I don’t have that kind of firepower, and you know it. They have endless soldiers to send in from New York. My entire crew would be wiped out inside a week.”

  “There’s no way in hell your daddy is going to let them blow up Liam’s apartment building and not answer.”

  Cian grunted. “We have other plans.”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “What do I get for it?” he asked. This was the first chance he’d had in months to get ahead of the feds. The cyberwar Lila was launching would put them in possession of a lot of valuable information about the Russians’ business—account numbers, names, addresses, transactions. He could trade that. He could get some of the heat off his own family and his brothers.

  “Not a damn thing,” Bruce huffed in indignation. “You’re the one with shit to lose here. You seem to keep forgetting that.”

  If only, Cian thought.

  He took his hands out of his front pants pockets and started to jingle the car keys. “Well, it was nice talking to you, Agent. See you around.”

  He got only a few steps before Bruce’s voice sliced through the darkness. “A three-month reprieve.”

  Cian stopped, turning back even though he could barely see the other man’s outline in the darkness.

  “Reprieve from what?”

  “From giving us info on your own operations.”

  Cian didn’t smile, though he wanted to.

  “The fact is, the Bratva are bigger fish than you, and if we can get ahold of them, it’ll take all our time and resources to do it. Don’t go thinking we won’t still want to snack on the Devils when we’re done feasting on vodka, but we can postpone it. You can have a little breathing space while you’re helping us grab the Russians.”

  Inside, Cian was rejoicing. Outside, he kept up appearances. “And I’m supposed to thank you for this?”

  “You’re supposed to remember that we let Connor go. You owe us for that.”

  “Fine, three months, no more questions about MacFarlane operations, and I give you whatever we find on the Russians.”

  “Okay, start now.”

  “We’re fighting back with cyber. We’ll be hacking into their accounts, their records, fucking with their systems. I’ll hand you everything we find while we do it.”

  “Who do you have in your shop with that know-how?”

  Cian’s blood pressure shot sky-high, and he clenched his fists at his sides to keep from sending one flying at Bruce’s pudgy nose.

  “None of your business,” he gritted. “You’ll get all the information. That’s the part that matters to you.”

  “Whatever you say.” Bruce sounded smug, and Cian was glad he couldn’t see the man’s face.

  He turned on his heel, tossing off, “I’ll be in touch,” as he strode away back to the parking lot. Every step matched the aching pain in his chest and the waves of nausea rolling through him. How much longer could he
protect Lila from the feds? Rogue was his ace in the hole, the last bit of valuable information he could use to secure safety for Liam and Finn. But would he be able to do it when the time came?

  Because right now, the idea of betraying Lila made him want to vomit up his very soul.

  Chapter 10

  The string of code seemed to go on forever. Lila had hacked everything from Credit Suisse to the FBI, but never had she seen a system this complex. She had to hand it to them, the Russians were good.

  “You’re telling me you can’t get in?” Cian asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

  Lila ground her teeth. “I can get in. It’s just going to take a while.”

  “How long is a while?”

  She turned and glanced at him where he stood near her living room desk. “Hours. Possibly a couple of days.”

  “Is there something else we can hit them with in the meantime?” He paused, looking stressed to her eyes, though he did a damn good job of trying to hide it.

  “Yes. There are other places I can hit, but it will take me away from this. If you want the big strike, you have to be patient. If you want smaller ones in the meantime, it’ll delay the bigger one.”

  He snapped then. “Goddammit!” he spat as he pounded the side of his fist against the nearest wall. She didn’t point out that he’d just dented the wallboard. He was paying her enough she could get it fixed. Hell, he was paying her enough she could buy the whole town house in cash ten times over. Money was really wasted on Lila. The only things she ever bought with it were more bracelets and computer hardware.

  She glanced at the screen again. It was a puzzle, and she’d never yet met a puzzle she couldn’t solve, but some took longer than others. This one was going to take a while.

  “There’s one other possibility,” she said tentatively.

  “That’s good.” He pulled over a chair, sitting, and gave her his full attention. Cian MacFarlane’s full attention could set a girl’s heart to beating faster. “I need another possibility.”

  She chewed her bottom lip for a moment. Cian’s situation was precarious—always. And he stayed alive by keeping his circle tight, and small. The fewer people who knew his business, the safer he was. He wasn’t going to like her idea, but in her opinion it was his only option.

  “I have a friend—”

  “No.” His response was fast and sharp.

  She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “We can’t involve unknowns. You realize that, surely. This is far too dangerous and sensitive.”

  “My friend is the best, almost as good as me.” She let one side of her mouth lift in a smug smile. Cian softened just a touch. “If I can bring in Scotchboy, he can help me by hitting the lesser targets while I work on this one.”

  “Scotchboy?”

  “His handle,” she explained patiently.

  “So who is this guy?”

  “I don’t know that it is a guy, but most likely, it is.”

  “You don’t even know their gender, but you’re willing to trust them with our cyberwar? You’re willing to risk them giving information to the Russians or the feds or Interpol?”

  She shook her head. “There’s a risk, but it’s small. I’ve known Scotchboy for years, and even though we don’t talk as much anymore, I trust him—her—them.”

  Cian’s lips pressed together tightly, and his jaw was like stone.

  “I won’t tell him what we’re doing, just give him a list of sites we need to gain access to. He’ll work on them, and once he’s a step or two from breaking in, he’ll give me the code, and I’ll do the actual penetration. It wouldn’t work with just anyone, but he thinks a lot like I do. I know I’ll be able to understand the direction he takes and finish off his process.”

  “I don’t like it—”

  “I know you don’t,” she said calmly, “but there is only one of me. I’ve hired on more eyes at Rogue to keep tabs on the day-to-day, but you only allow me to monitor your accounts, and then I’m running a war to boot. I’m a badass, but Cian, I’m only one badass.”

  He gave her a guilty smile. “Okay. I get it. I’ve asked too much.”

  “I can handle it, but you have to let me handle it. I’m running a business now, and serving as your CTO, so to speak. I can do it, but I have to be able to outsource as needed.”

  He looked at the floor for a moment. “You’re amazing. You know that, right? And I’m sorry. I tell you I’ll give you anything you need, then I try to keep you confined with all sorts of rules at the same time.”

  “You’re not used to trusting anyone but your brothers,” she said plainly.

  He chuckled quietly. “No, I’m not.” Then he pinned her with his blue-eyed gaze. “But I trust you, and if you say this Scotchboy person can help, then we should bring him…her…them in. I’ll stop micromanaging. You do what you need to.”

  She smiled then, because it meant the world that Cian trusted her. He had everything to lose, and she would never put him or his family at risk.

  “Okay, then. I’ll contact Scotch, and we’ll get the small stuff started right away. I’m guessing we can have the lights and water shut off at that brothel within the next twelve hours. Utilities should have the strongest security, but all too often, they’re disappointingly easy to crack.”

  He grinned at her. “You love this stuff, don’t you?”

  She shrugged, trying not to let him know how right he was. “I like a challenge. These overseas accounts are definitely challenging.”

  Cian stood and stretched. “I’d better let you get back to it, then,” he said, leaning down and giving her a brotherly peck on the cheek. They were apparently not lovers today. But not just business partners either. More like friends. Or siblings. Lila was never sure, and it was starting to make her crazy.

  She thought she could handle it either way—or she’d learn to—as long as she knew. If he wanted her to leave for good, she’d do it, and survive. If he wanted to really try, take a leap at something for the long term, then she’d be right there with him. What was making her nuts was the in-between. Because little by little, Cian was capturing her heart at the same time he’d hung a guillotine over her head.

  He walked to her door and paused, turning to look at her over his shoulder. “One more thing…”

  She waited, the sound of a car horn blaring from outside her living room window.

  “I’ll need you to save all the information you get on their accounts, financials, any security footage you tap into. Put it all on USB drives for me.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh-kay…” But before she could ask more, the door was open and he was walking out, leaving Lila to wonder what Cian wasn’t telling her, and why it hurt that he wasn’t.

  Katya woke with a start, light piercing her eyelids with tiny needles that stabbed at her temples.

  “Is that too bright?” a man’s voice asked.

  For a moment, her heart raced and she panicked, visions of a hand fitting over her mouth, making it impossible to scream and nearly impossible to breathe. Then he spoke again. “Here, I brought you something. Let me help you sit up.”

  She pried open one eye and looked into the face of Liam MacFarlane. He was big, and looming over the bed, he looked even bigger, but in spite of that, in spite of the rugged scruff on his jaw and chin, and the muscles that bulged in his arms, neck, and shoulders, in spite of the fact he was a criminal, Katya realized she was no longer afraid of him.

  He smiled gently at her and carefully extended an arm. “Can I help?” he asked. “You got a concussion in the explosion. Doc says you should take it really easy for at least a couple of days.”

  She nodded, and as he helped her scoot up to sit against the backboard, she suddenly realized she probably looked like hell.

  She ran fingers through her hair, finding it full of snarls. Meanwhile, her teeth were covered in fuzz and her eyes were nearly glued shut.

  Liam pulled a folding chair over near the bed and picked up a mug fro
m the nightstand. “Here’s some coffee. I made it strong the way you liked it the other day, but I can put sugar in it if you want. There’s also tea. Would that be better?”

  He seemed almost nervous, and Katya swallowed, feeling oddly unsettled with him so close. Not scared. Just sort of fluttery. Like she used to get when she had a crush on a boy in school. But she was far beyond crushes. Maybe a few weeks ago, before she’d come to America, but no longer. She’d seen what lay beneath the surface of men. She’d vowed never to flutter for one again.

  “Coffee is good. Thank you,” she replied as she took the warm cup from him.

  “I’m sorry to wake you, but you’ve been sleeping most of the last fifteen hours, and it’s possible we may have to leave here at some point soon. I wanted you to have a chance to shower and eat. Does your head hurt?”

  She did an internal assessment for a moment before answering. “No. My ears are…humming?” She made a little motion next to her left ear.

  “Ringing, maybe? Mine have been since the explosion. It’s getting less, but the doctor said it would take a while to wear off.”

  “Yes. That. Ringing.”

  “How do you feel otherwise?”

  She shrugged as she took a sip of the coffee, amazed he could make it so delicious. “I think okay. Ankle hurts, but not too much.”

  He let out a small breath and leaned back in the chair. “Good. That’s good to hear. You should still take it easy, stay in bed, keep the lights low as long as possible. When it’s time to go, we’ll have to move fast.”

  She sipped more coffee thoughtfully. “What happen now? We move…how many times? How long? They will not stop coming.”

  Liam crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back. She saw the mask that slid across his face when he talked about business.

  “We won’t have to keep running,” Liam growled. “My brothers and I are not about to let the Russians beat us. We’ll get them, and we’ll make sure you’re safe, no matter what.”

  Katya was surprised at the vehemence in his voice. She knew he was a hard man; he was a mobster. She knew he was a fearless man. He’d taken her from the Russian whorehouse. But the man she’d seen for the last few days had been kind, considerate, almost gentle. That was the man she was beginning to feel she knew. However, given what she’d learned about men in general over the last few weeks, she couldn’t ignore the parts of Liam that she hadn’t been seeing.