Dirty Truth: An Irish Mafia Romance (Dirty Liar Book 2)
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He just sat there beside me, not saying a word. His body was stiff, rigid, and the air around us was saturated with tension and an anticipation of violence—it was like a black cloud hovering overhead, threatening dark rain and thunder. So, I spoke up first.
“Aidan?” I was so on edge that the sound of my voice caught me off guard and almost made me jump.
“Yes, Maggie?” He looked down at me, and there was a serious, grim expression on his face.
“Mind if we talk about what happened?”
Aidan sighed, rubbing his temples. “Now?”
Preferably, yes, but I could understand if he didn’t want to. After all, he’d lost Gerard—someone who was not only his security guard but a friend as well.
“Doesn’t have to be now, I guess.”
Aidan was silent for a moment, and I thought he’d somehow fallen asleep. But his breathing wasn’t regular just yet, and when I looked over at him, I saw his eyes were wide open. He was simply staring straight ahead.
He sighed. “I just found out I have a brother. A brother who tried to kill me. I’m not sure what to do with that. Not sure what else needs to be said, Maggie, but I’ll do the best I can.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Maggie
Aidan’s new security detail was at the office before I arrived the next morning. Of course, two of his men had followed me into work from home, so it wasn’t entirely surprising to see a couple of big, burly men in dark suits waiting outside the door for me.
On one hand, it was a little creepy to be followed around by these guys. On the other, it made me feel a lot safer. Unlike Gerard and his crew, these guys weren’t content to be invisible and discrete—no, these guys were there, in your face, and if someone planned on taking a run at me, they’d have to go through them first.
Clearly, Amon had gotten under Aidan’s skin—which was probably his main intent behind that little middle of the night chat.
“Good morning,” said the man to the right of the door. “I’m Gary, this is Peter, and we’ll be keeping an eye on you today.”
I gave them a small smile I hoped looked genuine. “Thanks,” I said. “Good to know. I appreciate it.”
Gary nodded. “If you need anything or see anything that scares you, don’t hesitate to call and we’ll come running.”
“How about spiders?” I asked. “Do you guys take care of spiders?”
They both looked at me and let out a laugh which automatically made me feel better. Having a personality, something I could relate to, had that effect on me. They weren’t just soulless and mindless automatons. They were living, breathing people which meant that they realized I was, too, and very well might care about my safety a bit more than the soulless, mindless ones.
Not that Gerard was soulless or mindless—he was actually quite nice. He just wasn’t especially warm and fuzzy. Of course, having these thoughts now that he was dead made me feel guilty. I’m sure when he wasn’t working, he had to have been a great guy.
I cleared my throat. “I’m glad you guys are here,” I said. “I’m planning on ordering some coffee and pastries. You guys in?”
They glanced at each other. “We probably shouldn’t,” Gary said. “We’re on duty.”
“We’ll keep it our little secret.”
I unlocked the door and before I could set foot inside, Gary pushed past me and Peter crowded me from behind. Gary held up a hand, his eyes scanning the dimly lit office before him.
“Stay here with Peter,” he said. “I need to sweep the office before I can let you inside.”
I waited in the hallway with Peter as instructed. Gary moved through the office silently but efficiently. He was back at the front door in a matter of seconds.
“All clear,” he said.
“No ninjas lurking in the shadows?
Gary grinned. “None that I could see, but we’ll keep our eyes peeled.”
I laughed it off, but in all honesty, I felt an enormous wave of relief. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Amon had rattled me deeply. But I had to hold that inside. The last thing I wanted was for Aidan to think that I was weak or unable to handle a little adversity.
“Thanks, guys,” I said. “Might as well make yourselves at home.”
Gary and Peter each took a seat, one on either side of the front door. They settled in and were doing their best to not look bored. Trying to act as normal as possible, I set about my day. I moved over to the sideboard and put on a pot of coffee for our clients—a pot I usually ended up drinking myself most days. After that, I stocked all of the appropriate condiments for the coffee and made sure we had plenty of clean mugs set out.
All the while, I was doing my best to not stare at the two hulking men sitting in the lobby watching me. It was an exercise in futility, though. There was no way I could act normal with my own private SWAT team.
Greg caught me looking at him and shook his head, letting out a deep, rumbling laugh. “I know it’s difficult, but just do your best to pretend that we’re not here.”
I laughed and felt the heat rush into my cheeks. “Easier said than done.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Peter said. “Give it half an hour and we’ll be like the rest of the furniture in here.”
I grinned. “Yeah, we’ll see.”
I did my best to do what they said and just carried on with my normal routine. I fired up my computer and checked my emails of which, there were more than three hundred. That was pretty typical most days. I sorted through them as I usually did, separating out the spam and other junk mail from the legitimate ones.
Before I dove into the virtual pile of mail, I called in my order to the coffee shop down the street. I ordered a box of pastries for the office and some cappuccinos for me and my two shadows. Most of the time, I picked through the pastries throughout the day and wound up tossing them. For whatever reason, most of our clients didn’t drink the coffee or eat the pastries—maybe they were too stressed to think about it.
But Aidan insisted on having fresh goodies every day—he said it was good, classy, customer service. And so, I did my duty and ordered them as requested.
With that done, I waded into my pile of correspondence. It was mostly routine, garden variety stuff. Inquiries about fees from potential clients, questions from existing clients about the disposition of their cases, and of course, the odd letter from a client who wasn’t satisfied with the outcome of their case. Those were always fun to read, so I tended to save them for last.
As I worked my way through the emails, I clicked on one and froze. Adrenaline surged through me at the same time a cold finger slid its way down my spine. I read the one line of text over and over again, and the feeling of dread it inspired only got stronger.
Tell your boss—or your boyfriend, or whatever he is—that the clock is ticking and it’s time for him to step down. PS—you really do have a lovely arse.
Attached to the bottom of the email was a photograph Amon had taken of me while Aidan and I had been sleeping on his couch the night before. I felt nauseous and violated all over again. It hadn’t been bad enough that son of a bitch was leering at me the night before, to know that he had photographic evidence of it both sickened and enraged me.
“What is it, ma’am?”
Gary was looking at me, a look of concern on his face. I couldn’t see my own reflection, but I was pretty sure I’d turned a ghostly shade of pale as Amon’s email mocked me from my computer screen. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Are you okay?”
I stared up at my dream team, feeling tears of frustration and anger welling in my eyes as a knot in my stomach constricted painfully. I felt so completely impotent and powerless.
“I—it’s Amon. He sent me an email, taunting me. It’s nothing. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t be this emotional about it.”
“Let that prick send you emails all day, every day. Just ignore them. Delete them without even opening them. Don’t let that asshole get under your s
kin,” Gary suggested.
“And don’t worry about a thing,” Peter said. “Because if he comes through that door, he’s going to have to deal with the both of us. And I don’t think that’s a fight he wants or can win.”
Not letting Amon get to me—like getting used to my thugs sitting in the office watching me—was a case of easier said than done. But they were right. And I had to admit, having them there watching over me made me feel relatively safe and secure.
I’d have to thank Aidan for putting them on my detail.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Aidan
“That son of a bitch,” I roared, pounding my fist on the table for emphasis. “He was in my home. That motherfucker threatened me in my own goddamn home!”
Emmett remained silent in his seat, a neutral look on his face, and I wanted to punch him for it. But I forced myself to calm down. To breathe. To think. That was just Emmett’s way. As much as I wanted him to be outraged and infuriated like I was, Emmett was always a voice of reason. He rarely let his emotions get the best of him, preferring to think things through.
He’d been that way as long as I’d known him, which felt like an eternity.
We sat in the back room at the Shamrock, discussing what had happened. So far, I’d kept it under wraps, limiting any and all information. The only people who knew all the details about Amon’s break in and subsequent threat were me, Maggie, and now Emmett—I needed his perspective on this.
And of course, I’d had to tell him exactly who Amon was. I knew he had questions, but at least had the sense enough to put off asking them until later. Right now, the priority was figuring out a game plan. Despite the fact that it wasn’t even noon yet, I’d had a bottle of good Irish whiskey brought in—it was happy hour somewhere and after everything that happened, I needed a goddamn drink.
“Well?” I asked. “Do you have nothing to say about this?”
Emmett looked up at me. “Not sure what ya want me to say, brother,” he replied. “I know how I’d handle it. I know how Flynn would handle it. But you’re a different animal altogether. So the real question is, how will Aidan handle it?”
I had a feeling I already knew the answer to the question I was about to ask, but felt compelled to ask anyway.
“And how would you or Flynn handle it?” I asked, draining the last of my glass and refilling it instantly.
“Aye. I’d blow ‘is feckin’ brains out without thinkin’ twice about it.”
The flat declaration was about what I’d expected from Emmett. He was old school in that way—kill ‘em all and let God sort ’em out. But I wasn’t old school. In fact, when it came to running a crime organization—I wasn’t any school.
Which was part of my problem. I was trapped, trying to exist between two very different worlds. Yes, I was the head of a crime family notorious for its brutality, but I was also an officer of the court—bound by the law and sworn to uphold it. Which was why I still had trouble ordering the execution of another person—even one as deserving of it as Amon.
“I can see ya hesitate, lad. That’s part of your problem.”
I gave him a rueful little laugh. “I’ve got more than one problem, Emmett.”
“Aye,” he replied. “But in this case, this is part of your problem with being the leader of this organization.”
“How do you mean?”
I took another belt from my glass and set it down on the table a little harder than I’d meant to. Emmett looked at my glass, he’d been watching me drink pretty closely, yet hadn’t even drained his first glass yet.
“This is what you would call one of those defining moments, lad,” Emmett said. “This is a chance for ya to step up and take the organization by the bollocks—a chance to make the syndicate your own. This is your time to make a stance.”
“By ordering a hit on Amon.”
Emmett nodded. “By ordering a hit on Amon,” he confirmed. “It’d show the brothers that you have the bollocks to lead this organization. That you aren’t a pussy, afraid of anything. And it will show ‘em you have their backs—that if any of us is threatened the way you were, there’ll be absolute hell to pay.”
I sighed and drained the last of my drink before reaching for the bottle. Picking it up, I looked at the amber poison. Instead of pouring myself another glass, I set the bottle back down on the table.
“Aside from you, Maggie is the only one who knows about this, Emmett.”
“Do you really think you can keep this from them?” he asked. “Word gets around. Don’t think Amon isn’t gonna run his feckin’ jaw. He will He’ll do whatever it takes to undermine ya. Get ahead of him. Get in front of this and do something about it. Take some action, Aidan. Earn the respect of the brothers.”
“And you think ordering a hit is going to earn their respect?”
“A hell of a lot better than doing nothin’.”
I nodded and opted to have another drink—although I only poured half of my usual dosage. Picking up my glass, I took a small sip of it, relishing the burn as it slid down my throat. Emmett was giving me a lot to think about, as he usually did. That was the main reasons I came to him for counsel. No matter what the situation was, I could count on him to talk me off the ledge—or at least part way. Nothing would ever completely quell the fires of rage that burned inside of me that Amon had ignited.
“I know you’re in a tough spot, given what you actually do for a living. But the other lads don’t know ya like I do. And to be fair, ya never really gave ‘em the chance.”
“Wasn’t aware I needed to host a get to know the new boss day.”
Emmett gave me a tight grin. “That’s kinda what I’m talking about. You come off like you’re better than ‘em. Like you’re above it all. The one thing that made them loyal to Flynn was that he was one of them. He was never afraid to make a tough call and was never afraid to roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty.”
“Yeah, I know,” I sniped. “I had to work my ass off to get some of these clowns off the hook after one of his tough calls.”
He shrugged. “Aye. Never said they were the right calls. But he had the guts to make those calls. That’s all the lads are looking for from you—a little spine.”
I knew he hadn’t intended it the way it came out, but hearing Emmett say that made those fires in me blaze up. I was angry.
“Oh, so I’m spineless?” I snapped. “Is that it? Ya think I’m a feckin’ coward?”
“No, lad,” he replied. “I know better than most that ya aren’t a coward. I’m just giving it to you straight, from their perspective. They don’t know you. All they see is you waffling about this decision or that decision, never really taking a firm stance one way or another.”
“Yeah, because I’m trying to toe the line between what’s legal and what isn’t,” I retorted. “It’s kind of a requirement of my day job.”
“That’s the problem. You’re the head of the syndicate, Aidan. You can’t expect everything we do to be clean and tidy. You can’t expect it all to be neat and legal. That’s not what we do.”
“Emmett, you pulled me into this knowing who and what I am.”
“I know, and I still think it’s the right call,” he said. “You belong in that chair. Your father started this organization, after all.”
“Yeah well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t regret agreeing to this.”
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown, lad,” he said. “You have it in you to be a leader, Aidan. I believe, right down to my bones, that you can be a better leader than even Flynn was.”
“Is,” I corrected. “Once I clear his name, he’s going to come back.”
“I really think you should prepare yourself for the idea that Flynn isn’t coming back,” he said. “And even if he does, there’s no guarantee he’s going to be welcomed by the brothers.”
“They’ll have to if I’m able to clear him.”
He shrugged. “Not necessarily,” he replied. “The stink of being labeled a
snitch doesn’t wash off so easy.”
“But he’s not a feckin’ snitch!”
“Maybe not, but some of the lads are never going to trust him again,” he said. “That’s only going to undermine his leadership.”
“That’s bullshite, Emmett, and you know it.”
“I’m just giving it to ya straight, lad.”
I sat back in my seat and drained the last of my glass once more, slamming it down on the table. I was furious. I never wanted to do this in the first place and had only agreed to do it until Flynn was cleared. The idea that he would never be fully welcomed back in or trusted enraged me and left me feeling completely trapped. It had never even entered my mind that I’d never be able to go back to my relatively normal, relatively quiet life.
“We’re getting pretty far afield, lad,” Emmett said. “We gotta deal with what’s on the plate right in front of ya. And that’s Amon and what to do about him. You’re gonna have to make a decision. And you’re gonna have to make it soon because once word starts spreading that he has a claim of leadership, it’s gonna make it really easy for some of the brothers who already don’t trust you to pick up his banner and run with it. And if that happens, we lose everything.”
“So, your counsel is to have him executed?”
He nodded. “As tasteless and difficult as I know you find it, that’s my counsel. No question about it. Not only will it get this arsehole off your back, taking bold action like that will build some bridges between you and the others.”
I reached out and pushed the bottle away from me. I was done drinking for the day. The idea of ordering a hit was anathema to me. It went against everything I stood for and every law I swore to uphold and defend. I couldn’t even believe that I was seriously considering it.