Filthy Sex: The Five Points’ Mob Collection: Four

by Akeroyd, Serena

  Brennan

  I yawned as I climbed out of the Maybach and headed into my building at The Hole. My breath frosted in front of me, which told me that if it was this cold this Fall, then winter was going to be a fucker.

  I was too young to be a snowbird, but sweet fuck, I was getting sick of the winters here.

  Grumbling under my breath, I headed inside, found Tink itemizing his stock, and yelled, “Morning, bro.”

  He twisted around to look at me, two bags of coke in his hands, and nodded. “Morning, Bren. You can take the catalogues now. We’ve picked our coins.”

  My eyes lit up. “Oh, good.” I rubbed my hands together in delight at being able to take those bad boys home with me.

  Striding into the warehouse, I asked, “Everything okay? Good weekend?”

  Tink snorted. “There ain’t no good weekends when you’ve got kids, Bren. Remember that before you get Camille in the family way.”

  “You’re the one who wanted to be a young dad,” I teased.

  “Yeah, well, if I could turn back time and keep them all seven, I would. Noisy little fuckers. I thought they were bad then, but Jesus, they’re worse now. This fucking TikTok shit’s driving me insane. They keep jumping up and doing all these weird dances. Ashleigh asked me to film one.” He shook his head. “My eyes almost popped out my fucking head. She only starts twerking in front of me. In front of me, Bren.”

  I smirked at him. “Nipped that in the bud, I hope?”

  “Bet your ass I did. She’s bitching at me now because she wants to be a TikTok star. Some of those fuckers are on millions.” He grumbled, “We’re in the wrong job.”

  “Either that or we should start filming our work. That’d get views,” I joked.

  “And our asses in the pokey.” He grunted. “Fucking twerking. Never thought I’d see the day when I had to watch my baby girl grinding in front of me.”

  Cringing, I muttered, “Didn’t she think it was weird?”

  “She was more concerned about the views.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, life lesson. Only have kids if they’ll stay seven forever.”

  My lips twitched as I hefted the collection into my greedy paws, telling him, “I’ll remember that, Tink.”

  “Do.”

  He waved me off, going back to the solace of his eternal counting, and I headed on out and up to my office.

  When I made it there, I heard a few mutters behind the door and only my brothers or my da would have the audacity to go in there without me in it. Praying it was my brothers though, because I wasn’t in the mood for my prick of a father who’d be ‘holier than thou’ with me about Camille, I nudged the door open with my foot and came face to face with them all.

  Every single one of the feckers.

  Heaving a sigh, I muttered, “Should have known you’d be in here today. Was hoping you’d leave me in peace.”

  “You think you can get married without any of your brothers there and we won’t be pissed?” Aidan grumbled.

  “Didn’t think you were on planet Earth, Aid,” I snapped, “so wasn’t sure if you were open to invitations.”

  He glared at me, but Finn placed a hand on his shoulder. “Bren, watch it, bro.”

  I barged past him and dumped the catalogues on the desk.

  “What have you got there?” Declan asked, wandering over from the window where he’d been standing to look at the folder. He was a collector like me so his interest was more than just piqued.

  “Coins. Little gift from the Yakuza.” I rubbed my hands together. “They say ‘thank you’ in the nicest ways.”

  “What did you do for them?”

  “Got one of their boys out of a pinch of trouble.”

  “Why?” Conor asked, his brow puckering.

  “Because they asked me to. I was in one of their sushi joints and the fucking oyabun only walks out like he owns the place.”

  “Which he does,” Eoghan said with a grin.

  I grinned back. “Yeah, technically. Not sure if the owners of that fine establishment would agree though.” I elbowed Dec. “That place over on 55th Street. Their unakyu is to die for.”

  “I’ll remember that and go visit. Wonder if the Yakuza’ll ask me to do something. I feel like getting a trinket from the homeland.”

  Laughing, I said, “I doubt it. The staff looked as if they were going to piss themselves with him at one of their tables.”

  “Why were you in their territory?”

  “Didn’t you hear me? Their unakyu is to die for.”

  “Worth braving Yakuza land? Jesus,” Conor muttered, before demanding, “How did he know you were dining there anyway?”

  “I don’t know, Conor,” I retorted grumpily. “I just know that the head wondered if he could join me and when I agreed, quite civilly, asked me to get one of his boys an alibi.”

  “Why did you agree?”

  “I was feeling charitable,” I lied.

  “Bullshit. You ain’t the charitable sort,” Aidan muttered, staring at his expensive leather Brionis.

  I flipped him a bird he didn’t see. “There might have been some incentive.”

  “What like?”

  “What the fuck is this? Twenty Questions? I told Da before I did anything like a good little boy. He told me to go ahead because he wanted to cultivate a relationship with them.”

  “Would have been nice to know that,” Declan groused.

  “None of you could handle the shit I gotta deal with,” I rumbled. “Ever since dipshit over there started getting high all the time, my workload has tripled. Shit’s been getting worse too now we know about these Sparrow fuckers. Dunbar’s been in here, bitching about getting a tail, and I know Da’s been pulling the slack for you, Aidan. We’ve got more rats than a graveyard.”

  Conor’s lips twitched. “About as many as in the library in The Last Crusade?”

  I shook my head. “Now ain’t the time for Indiana Jones, bro.”

  “There’s always time for Indy.” He grinned. “We need to watch a marathon over Thanksgiving weekend.”

  We all snorted, but none of us bitched about his request. The ‘Indiana Jones’ series had been our favorite movies when we were kids, back when we’d been filled with fucking hope instead of the quagmire of misery we were steeped in now like some noxious tea.

  “Anyways, I got a wife now,” I told them, getting back to the heart of the matter. “Something’s gotta give.”

  We’d all been pussyfooting around my elder brother since the drive-by, but things were changing. We needed all hands on deck now.

  “Speaking of,” Eoghan murmured, “since when were you and Cammie a thing?”

  “What’s it got to do with you?” I folded my arms across my chest, not liking being interrogated, and not liking that Declan was nosing through my coin collection.

  The majority of the coins were South African Krugerrands, but I’d bet my fucking ass there’d be an Asian one in there that he’d just have to have.

  Younger brothers—couldn’t have jack without them wanting a piece of the action too.

  “Everything. She’s my sister-in-law. Inessa’s concerned.”

  “Fuck off,” I said with a laugh. “She’d prefer her to be stuck at home, huh? At the Bratva compound? Without any protection? Do me a favor.” I sniffed. “Look, I liked her, she liked me. She wants protection, I wanted to give her protection. She’s got a great set of tits, I’m a tit man.”

  Conor frowned. “You know she was a clubwhore for the Sinners, don’t you?”

  “You repeat that to anyone outside of this fucking room and I’ll string you up in the back, Conor. The fuck has that got to do with anything? I never needed a virgin sacrifice—”

  “Good thing,” he retorted, triggering my anger as I stormed forward and grabbed him by the collar, jerking him onto his feet.

  The second I did, Declan and Eoghan were there, dragging me back but Conor just grinned at me. “Boys, he loves her.”

  “Fuck you,” I growled
at him. “That was a shitty move, raking up her past.”

  “It was, actually,” Finn said wryly. “Still, Kid’s capable of worse.”

  Conor took a bow before he smoothed down his collar, tie, and lapels. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Don’t bring it up again,” I warned.

  He raised his hands in surrender but his grin made me want to wipe it off his face.

  Eoghan slapped me on the back. “If you love her, that’s different.”

  I glowered at him, feeling trapped with my words and actions. “Fuck off.”

  He grinned. “Bro, take a chill pill. Love’s supposed to make you feel like you’re walking on air.”

  “Or like you’ve sniffed too much helium,” Conor inserted.

  I glared at him, prodding a finger his way. “One day, fuckface, I’m gonna fuck you up.”

  His smirk deepened. “I can take it.”

  “You’re the one who was all, ‘Brennan, you have to teach Shay because you’re the best fighter ever,’” I mocked.

  “Well, you are.”

  “Now who’s the dipshit?” Eoghan asked with a laugh. “You really picking a fight with him?”

  Conor shrugged. “I could take him.”

  As one, all my brothers, apart from Conor and me, howled with laughter—nice to know they knew which side to pick in a bet.

  He glared at each of them, then shrugged. “You ain’t seen me fight since I was twenty.”

  I leaned into him. “Baby bro, I can guarantee, you still don’t defend your left side. You never did.”

  His mouth turned down at the corners, but before he could whine, Declan murmured, “Speaking of, thanks for dealing with Shay the other day. I know he was feeling all kinds of messed up.”

  Shrugging, I cast him a look. “It was our pleasure. Wasn’t it, fuckface?”

  Conor flipped me the bird. “It was. I like Shay. He’s cool.”

  Declan grinned. “He is, isn’t he?”

  I laughed a little because that grin was dopey as hell and loaded down with pride. “You should have heard Da when he called him ‘Grandda’ on the phone. You’d think his Lotto numbers had come in.”

  Dec sheepishly scrubbed his jaw. “Yeah, Aela’s not best pleased about that.”

  “Probably because she doesn’t like the prick,” I said wryly. “Who the fuck could blame her?”

  As a unit, we all pulled a face.

  Da was definitely an acquired taste. Forty years into knowing him, I still wasn’t sure if I’d acquired it.

  “I think it’s more to do with encouraging him to get into fights,” Declan murmured. “At least, right now, anyway. She’s still smarting over Da’s monologue on why artists are a drain on society over Ma’s topside of beef the other week.”

  “I’m sure he does it to wind us up,” Finn grumbled.

  “He probably gets a kick out of it,” Conor agreed, throwing himself back onto the seat I’d forcibly vacated him from.

  “Sick fuck,” I muttered, before I shrugged back my shoulders and smoothed my jacket down. “Anyway, dipshits, the interrogation over? Some of us have work to do.”

  “Because you’re the only one who’s working right now, huh?”

  I smirked at Dec and said, “Feels like it sometimes.”

  He rolled his eyes, but asked, “You think you can get married without a massive bachelor party beforehand?”

  My mouth turned down at the corners. “If I wanted one, I’d have asked.”

  Conor grinned. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have a belated one.”

  “When’s that going to be?”

  He tapped his nose. “It’s being handled.”

  I scowled at him. “Conor, if you think I’ve got time for this bullshit—”

  Con waved a hand. “Look, chill out. You’ll have a blast.”

  “If you say so,” I said wryly, before I took a seat behind my desk. “Don’t make solid arrangements, fuckface. You know what it’s like with the Sparrows right now. We’re all on borrowed time.”

  A collective sigh seemed to wend its way among us. But I felt their pain. As if we didn’t have enough plates to keep spinning without those bastards getting in our way.

  “Any news from the Mayor?” Aidan asked, which meant Da had been speaking with him. That he’d shared that, but not news of Vasov’s death, didn’t shock me. He wasn’t exactly forthcoming.

  “No. I’m going to put some pressure on him at the gala on Friday.”

  Conor smirked. “Am I going to see you on page 6?”

  “I’ll dress up nice just for you,” I taunted.

  He grinned. “I’m going to start making a scrapbook of cuttings from magazines you guys feature in. Ma will love that. Now we’ve got women in the family, you’re all turning nice and respectable, going to galas and the ballet—I think it’s going to be my Christmas present to her.”

  Declan wrinkled his nose. “Fuck, that’s a good idea. She’ll love that.”

  “Probably more than that ugly plant you got her last year, Dec,” Eoghan agreed, laughing when Declan moved to punch him in the shoulder.

  Thinking about what Tink had said downstairs, I shook my head as he started chasing him around the office... seven, fourteen, or thirty-fucking-four, kids were always goddamn noisy.

  One day, you’ll find a man who’ll dance until dawn with you just because he can. Just because he wants you in his arms. Don’t you want to hang around for that day?

  Thirty-Three

  Camille

  I felt like I could burst.

  Each pore in my body ached with how happy I felt as I tipped my head back and let the sun warm me, the sky made my eyes sting with how bright it was, all while Terry plodded down the trail.

  I was in my most favorite place.

  But it was better today.

  Brennan was here.

  The thought had me casting him a look, and immediately, arousal and amusement danced together inside me.

  Arousal because he was hot. Simple as. He also looked like he’d been born to ride, which came as no real surprise. My husband was the most competent man I’d ever met. I wasn’t sure if there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do if he set his mind to it.

  This clearly wasn’t his first time on a horse, though. The way he sat in a saddle, how he held the reins, the ease with which he directed Princess Plum—all of it spoke of experience.

  Which made me want to drool.

  He looked like a warrior on horseback. I could easily imagine him with a sword strapped to his back as he charged into battle, which made him even hotter.

  The amusement stemmed from his lack of a riding hat. I always wore one, mostly because I was a scaredy cat, but Brennan didn’t. The prospect of him in one, though, made me hide a grin. As if a horse would dare buck under his command.

  As if.

  “What are you grinning at?” Brennan grumbled, our eyes tangling for a flash before he returned his focus to the trail.

  I thought he’d been appreciating nature, instead, he’d been watching me hide my amusement...

  Ugh, why did that fill me with warmth?

  I loved that he watched me. Loved. It.

  “I was just imagining you wearing a riding hat.”

  “And it made you grin?”

  “It did,” I said, reaching forward to pet Terry. “I don’t think Princess Plum would dare toss you off her back.”

  He snorted. “It’s happened a time or two.”

  “It has? When?”

  Brennan shrugged. “When I was learning to ride. Hobbled around for a week each time.” His lips twitched. “But it was always my ass that hurt, not my head. Anyway, helmets are uncomfortable.”

  “They’re protective.”

  “We all die. I’d prefer to die from falling off a horse than with a gun to the temple.”

  The ease of his words had me biting my lip. We both knew that second option was more likely, so when he put it like that, I thought I’d prefer for him to
die that way too.

  Of course, that had turned this cheerful outing into a depressing one.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m surprised you want to do this again so soon after Sunday.”

  “Had a shitty day,” he grumbled, twisting his neck to ease the strain there. “But the weather’s good, and I figured, why the fuck not spend some time with my wife and get some fresh air out here?”

  When he said stuff like that, how was I not supposed to fall for him? I knew this was an arrangement, but riding together hadn’t been a part of that. Him making sure I got the New York Times in the mail every morning wasn’t a part of it. Then there was his whole, ‘three orgasms a day keeps the doctor away,’ mantra. I was pretty sure that had never been a part of the program, either.

  “Well, I’m glad you called.”

  “Me too.” He clucked his tongue when Princess Plum decided to get sassy and veer off course. Not unsurprisingly, that and a soft squeeze of his knees was enough to elicit her compliance. For me, she was a real bitch. For Brennan, not so much. ”We’ll have to take a trip somewhere, a dude ranch or something. Don’t you get sick of the same trails?”

  “Not really. But we can. I’d like that.” I peeped at him. “For our honeymoon, maybe?”

  He scratched his chin, flashing his watch at me as he did so. “Sounds good.”

  It did? Excitement filled me, but I dampened it down, curious now about something else. “Your watch...” My voice waned a second before I decided to stop being a wuss. “Where did you get it from?”

  He blinked. “This old thing? From my uncle. He bequeathed it to me when he died.”

  That was my kind of gift. I’d never heard of Vacheron Constantin before, but when I’d googled them, out of curiosity, my mind had been blown.

  “When we were at your parents’ place, I saw a picture of your dad with someone who had to be his brother. They were at Coney Island.”

  His lips twitched. “Eating hot dogs, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  He nodded. “That’s one of Da’s favorite pictures. He doesn’t have many pictures of Frank.”

  “He’s the one who gave you the watch?”