Irish King

by Irish King (retail) (epub)

The next day the family doctor came to his apartment and took care of his shoulder. Riley Preston was a doctor at Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago. He and Ian had grown up together because their fathers had been friends. Like Ian, he was born into his position but Riley strived to keep his professional life away from the Mordha name. He was damn good at his job and vowed to leave the city if he had to escape the unwanted legacy his father forced him into. Ian didn’t have that luxury and he could swear sometimes Riley stayed around because of him and their friendship.

  “Whoever did this did a good job,” Riley commented. “A little sloppy on the stiches but almost as good as mine.”

  “Just a friend who happened to be close by,” Ian said.

  Riley gave him a look. “Hmmm, I never heard of this friend before. I wonder how come?”

  “Because I don’t spill the secrets of my life to you. That’s why I have a diary.” Ian grinned and then winced when Riley’s touch wasn’t so gentle.

  “Remember, don’t piss off the doctor,” Riley murmured with a smile. “So this friend...is she pretty?”

  “Fucking gorgeous and completely out of my league. I think she’s a teacher or something,” Ian explained. “I stopped her from being mugged and raped, then I got shot and she returned the favor.”

  “Sounds like a keeper,” Riley commented.

  “For some good guy wearing a business suit, not me,” Ian gave a sarcastic chuckle. “You see the type of women in my world. You at least get to have a separate life. You’re not the son of Collin Mordha.”

  “The king of the Chicago underworld, a very tarnished crown,” Riley said. “So that means you can’t have life, happiness, love?”

  Ian gave him a direct stare. “Would you want your womenfolk around me?”

  “You, anytime. Your father or his people, hell no,” Riley said truthfully. “There’s going to come a time when you’re going to have to make a choice. The crown on your head or a life outside this hell. You can’t have blood on your hands for your father forever.”

  “If I leave, you can be assured he’s dead,” Ian said. “The vultures are circling just because I didn’t call in.”

  Riley finished his shoulder and stepped back. “How is this your problem? Mordha chose this life long before you were in existence.”

  “But he’s my father,” Ian pointed out.

  “So his life denotes yours.” Riley stood angrily. “I love you like a brother and that’s a bunch of bullshit. One day the bullet is not going to miss and you’ll be dead for him to. You’re to exist to serve him and then die. You better make yourself happy and find love the best way you can, Ian. One of these days that will be the last thought before the darkness takes hold for good and it will be your one big regret.”

  “Well fuck, Riley, don’t gloss it over,” Ian muttered.

  “Truth hurts worse than that bullet would,” Riley said. “I was told to pass on the message that Mordha wants to see you.”

  “I stay around to be a level head, to keep blood from running in the streets,” Ian said suddenly.

  “Again, the world is not on your shoulders, but if you want...” Riley bowed low. “Long live the king.”

  He threw a pillow off the couch at Riley as he left the living room. His laughter was the last thing Ian heard as the door closed. Ian sighed and leaned his head back against the chair and put his feet up. He was so tired, so fucking tired, and yet the fire in him would not be quenched. Riley’s words rang true to him. Would he give up everything to protect his father’s empire or would he find his own life? It was too much to think about, especially when he’d been summoned.

  He’d already taken a shower in advance of Riley’s arrival so he dressed slowly, taking care with his injured shoulder. The Mustang had been taken away when he called, and marked downstairs was his new ride. A Mercedes in his preferred color, black. The keys were left with the doorman and he tipped Bill well for holding them. Ian got behind the wheel and drove to the luxurious neighborhood outside Chicago. His father hated the city, but profited off its back and, as he drove up to the pristine white house and parked in the circular driveway, he hated the man for all he’d done. Ian hated himself for being the enforcer of his criminal organization.

  The guard opened the door without question. “Good to see you up and walking, King,” the guard commented.

  “Yep that’s me, terminator,” Ian said sarcastically.

  The guard took it as a joke and thumped him a bit too hard on his bum shoulder. Ian moved inside before he punched the fool in his head. He walked through the opulence. His father loved pretty things, including women. Even at seventy-eight, he always had one or two big-chested blondes without a lick of sense around him. They always figured if one could get the father and the other the son they would be made. They were wrong.

  “Look, it’s my boy. My badass son who handles the Russians like a pro,” his father bellowed. Apparently it was a party, because his father had not only his women around but a few of his cronies. He smacked the girl sitting on his lap on the rump. “Go hug my boy and give him a warm welcome.”

  She got up, slightly off balance, and drawled, “Hey, King.”

  “Go away,” Ian snapped coldly. “Dad, I got shot and you wanted to talk. I’m not here to party; I’ll meet you in the office.”

  Ian turned and headed towards his father’s office. He sat in the chair across from the desk and waited. Soon enough he heard his father come in and take his seat behind the big marble table.

  “You’ve been rude, King,” his father said.

  “I don’t much care,” Ian said.

  “The girls, they like you, and you act like you’re above them,” his father snapped.

  “I am.” Ian leaned back in the chair. “How’s Mom, by the way?”

  “She’s visiting a spa in Arizona for the next three weeks,” Collin Mordha said. “She knows when I need my space.”

  “Like a trained pet,” Ian replied.

  He looked at his father, salt and pepper hair and a red angry face. His mother went from being a strong woman to being weak and doing exactly what she was told. She was happy that he could keep her in the lavish lifestyle. She didn’t care how many women he had or fucked during his special club’s meetings as long as the money kept flowing.

  “I was summoned, Dad, what did you need?” Ian asked.

  “Last night went bad, I’m calling the Russians out. They were offered a slice of the pie, a reasonable amount, and they almost kill my son,” his father said. “I’ve already put out the word—they leave the docks or they die.”

  “Or maybe you can offer them a bigger slice and not go to an all-out war,” Ian put the point out there.

  “Fifteen percent was good,” his father bellowed and bent over the table to put a finger in Ian’s face. “I will not be held over a barrel by those less than me.”

  “Take your hand out of my face or go back to your friends with a hand full of broken fingers,” Ian said calmly.

  “You don’t talk to your father like that.” He watched his father’s eyes shift nervously.

  “I talk how I please. Without me, all those assholes in there would pick your body clean,” Ian leaned forward and met his father’s eyes. “I may be your son, but don’t you ever think I’m going to be like Mom.”

  “Yeah? What would you do without me?” His father sat back proudly.

  “I’d have a damn good life.” Ian stood and walked towards the door before turning. “Or I’d take the throne right from under you and leave you on your ass. They would follow me to hell and back and you know it, old man.”

  His father smiled broadly. “That’s the man I raised, the one I like to hear. You don’t have to take this throne from me. It’s yours when you’re ready. I can sit back and draw a pension from my son’s hard work. Till then, you do your job. Let the Russians know they’re on notice and you do what you need to do to let everyone know the Mordha name rules this city.”

  “Whatever you
say... boss.”

  Ian walked out the door and ignored the women calling his name sweetly, asking him to come back. He’d rather wrestle with rabid pit bulls than give them a chance to touch him. The thought alone repulsed him to the extreme. Riley’s words came back to him. He wondered if there was a chance for someone like him to be loved and accepted by a woman like Kiya. What would it be like to be loved not because of his father’s name or the fact that danger titillated them? What would it be like to just live?

  * * * *

  A few days later, Kiya sat at her desk and ate her lunch while her class was outside for recess. It was a warmer day than usual and the fresh air would do them good. She could see her ten students playing, laughing, running, but couldn’t hear much sound. Being deaf, they used their hands to communicate and play. Kiya smiled knowing that while the public could stereotype them as disabled, they were just like everyone else, except they couldn’t hear.

  She used her hands to talk to her class while Ian used his to kill. Kiya stopped chewing, wondering why he filtered into her mind at that very moment. Who am I kidding? she thought mirthlessly. She hadn’t stopped thinking about him since the night they met. The news had run the story of a shootout at the docks the morning after she’d patched him up. How would her brother feel knowing she’d patched up King Mordha in her living room? He’d probably freak out and make her move in with him or join witness protection.

  “Hi. Hi, sister from another mister.” There was a happy knock at the door and she looked over to see her brother.

  “We have the same father, Kevin, you fool,” Kiya announced. “And I was just thinking of you. You know what they say, speak of the devil...”

  He stepped inside. “Ha ha. Since we shared the same womb, I could say the same thing about you.”

  Kiya smiled up at her brother. His dark skin was smooth and his hair, as always, neatly cut. He wore his black leather winter jacket with the fleece liner he got for Christmas from their parents last year, and around his neck his badge hung from a chain. Kevin Gunn worked for Chicago’s finest and had worked his way up from patrol to detective in four years flat. He was a stubborn man, who went after what he wanted with sheer determination. That also meant, in his line of work, the criminals of the city should be worried. That made her think of Ian once again.

  Kevin snapped his fingers. “Earth to Kiya, come on back, alien.”

  “Oh, bite me.” Kiya threw a chip at his chest.

  He caught it and popped it into his mouth. “You’re such a bad teacher. Do your students see you throw food?”

  She shook her head. “Why are you here, Kev?”

  “Did you see the news about the dock shooting?” he asked, leaning over to snag a few more chips.

  Kiya hoped that her face revealed nothing; she had a hard time hiding anything from her twin brother. “Vaguely, while I was getting ready for work the other day.”

  “Please, who are you trying to fool?”

  Her heart stared a frantic beat in her chest. “What do you mean?”

  Kevin laughed. “I mean you watch the news religiously in the morning and evening just like dad does. Why do you look like you committed the worst crime in history?”

  “Because you used your cop interrogation voice,” she teased, breathing a sigh of relief. “Anyway, why are you asking?”

  “There’s a task force about the Mordha family and this just adds to the list of things we suspect is up their alley.” Kevin tried to take more chips and she handed him the bag. Her appetite was gone anyway. “His car was spotted on the OEMC blue light cameras about a block from your place. I wanted to know if you saw anything and to tell you to be careful.”

  “What is the OEMC and what time did all this happen?” she asked. He took her drink and chugged it as well. “Geez, Kevin, have you not eaten in years?”

  He gave her a smug look. “You know you weren’t going to finish it. The OEMC is Chicago Office of Emergency Management and the cameras are always on and recording because the damn city is so large and crime never sleeps. It’s like the CC TV they have in London except not as fancy. The cameras placed him in your area around five-thirty a.m. and, from the way he was moving, he seemed to be hurt.”

  “Yeah, shove it in my face again that you got to go to Scotland Yard for a month,” Kiya muttered. She’d always wanted to go to Europe and was saving for it while he got to go enjoy it for free. The Chicago Police department paid for it all, the lucky guppy. “Kev, you know me, I’m out until that alarm goes off at six o’clock. Unless there was a parade outside with rockets bursting in air, I was dead to the world.”

  “Kinda figured but I had to ask,” Kevin said. “So are you coming to the party for Aunt Rosa’s cruise around the world?”

  “Ughhh, why do I have to go to hear her tell me I’m going to be a spinster like her? And that’s perfectly fine, sweetie, just don’t have too many cats,” Kiya mimicked her aunt.

  Kevin laughed. “Because I have to go and hear how much of a man whore I am.”

  Kiya teased, “Who are you taking this time around to our family function?”

  “Thinking that Mila will come with.” He leaned back.

  “You broke up with her and then got back with her and then broke up with her again,” Kiya pointed out. “That girl is either crazy as a barrel full of monkeys or a glutton for punishment.”

  “Or she loves all this chocolate,” Kevin said, standing up.

  “Oh dear God, I feel my lunch trying to leave the hard way.” She clutched her stomach.

  “Ha ha, you are so funny.” Kevin kissed her on the head. “Be safe, twin, see you at the party Saturday night.”

  “Oh joy, five days to plan my spinster outfit,” she replied.

  The bell rang as Kevin left and she watched as the playground monitors pointed to the flashing lights as they collected the children and got them in lines. The bell was for the students, teachers, and monitors who were blind. To communicate with the children who had hearing disabilities, they used a light system.

  Her class came back in flushed and happy from their play outside and filed to their seats. With their attention on her, she used her hands to sign what they would be doing for the second half of the day. While she focused on her children, her mind was still on Ian and the fact that he was almost caught leaving her apartment. It wouldn’t be an issue any longer, because Kiya was sure she would never see him again.

  Chapter Three

  It was after six when she finally got home. Kiya took the train to her apartment and by the time she got out, the wind had become brisk. It buffeted between the buildings like Mother Nature was blowing out huge gusts of air. It plucked at her new coat and tried to find any crack to reach her skin to chill her down to the bone. Kiya was looking forward to a dinner of pot roast with potatoes she’d put in the crockpot to slow cook, and a shot of brandy in her tea. Cozy slippers and her thick blanket would be her companions tonight as she watched TV.

  Hey, maybe I’ll even have a hot fudge sundae, she thought and smiled. All you need is the cat, her subconscious said, reminding her of her impending spinsterhood, according to her aunt. Her last boyfriend had been a total jerk who saw himself as a man that should be put on a pedestal. Kiya had no inclination to love someone more than she loved herself, unless it was a child. She unlocked her door and stepped inside the warm room with a sigh and turned on the light.

  “Cold night out there, huh?”

  The voice was soft and came from the corner of the room in the chair closest to the window. Kiya shrieked and dropped the purse she was going to hang up before she took off her coat. Ian was there, sitting like he was invited with his legs crossed. His hand was thrown across his leg and in his grasp was the largest bouquet of red roses and orchids she’d ever seen.

  “Fuck! Goddamn it, Ian, how did you get in my house?” Kiya demanded to know. “I could’ve tased or maced you.”

  “Since you dropped your purse, I don’t think that would’ve happened,” his v
oice was amused.

  Damn it, why does he to be so sexy and drop dead gorgeous? Kiya asked herself. His hair was red, almost the color of the sky as the sun set and combed neatly into big waves that hung just below his ears. The cut suited his unshaven jawline. His eyes were a startling green. Kiya had seen green eyes before, but his were almost the color of emeralds and he seemed to pierce your soul with a direct stare. His lips, God those lips, with a small amused smile weren’t too thin and so very kissable. Don’t think about kissing him.

  He was sitting there in a dark brown leather jacket and black sweater-like shirt; dark jeans and biker boots completed the outfit. Kiya sighed as her heart resumed a normal rhythm. She wasn’t scared of him, but she was nervous to be so close to him, terrified of his father and his life. Ian was a dangerous man, but around Ian she felt uncommonly safe.

  “Why did you break into my house, Ian?” Kiya asked. “I thought you understood that me patching you up was a one-time only thing.”

  He came over to the middle of the room where she stood. “I wanted to bring these as a thank you.”

  She took the flowers, the scent of the bouquet sweet in her nose. “Thank you, now you should go. The cameras caught you getting in your car close to here and my brother asked me if I saw anything.”

  “Detective Kevin Gunn,” Ian said knowingly. “I heard he’s a very tenacious cop.”

  She looked at him, startled. “How do you know his name? Please don’t hurt him.”

  Ian cupped her cheek and she wanted to press her cheek against his hand. “Calm down, Kiya. I don’t go around killing law enforcement. That’s the kind of interest I don’t need around my life.”

  “Then why did you know his name?” she demanded to know.

  “I wanted to know about you,” Ian confessed.

  She stepped away. He was too close. “So you had us checked out?”

  He shrugged. “That’s the way of the beast.”

  “And are you that beast?”

  His stare seemed to bore into her. “Do you want to find out?”

  It was on her lips to say yes and jump into his arms. Kiya wanted to give in to the temptation to walk on the wild side for once. But she doubted very much that one taste of Ian would ever be enough and his world would eat her alive.