Filthy Sex: The Five Points’ Mob Collection: Four

by Akeroyd, Serena

“Fucking Sparrows,” I snapped under my breath as Forrest guided me down a couple more corridors, taking us to the ICU unit where I saw a few brothers gathered around in a waiting room. A couple of chicks too.

  I recognized Nyx from the few times I’d met him, and saw that one of the women was his spitting image, so I took her to be a sister. As for the other one, the way she was clinging to him and he to her, I reckoned she was the infamous Giulia.

  Rumor had it she’d set fire to a pedo over in Ohio... I wasn’t sure how true that was, especially when rumors spread like that Chinese whispers game, where one elephant turned into a menagerie of unicorns, but she looked like a spitfire. Enough for me to eye her warily as I approached.

  Nyx, on his own, was volatile.

  With his woman and sister to protect, and his baby brother in a hospital bed?

  I wasn’t about to get my dick cut off for something that wasn’t my fault.

  The sound of Crocs and boots were evidently different than the snap-snap of our Oxfords against the linoleum because the second we arrived, we were at the center of everyone’s attention.

  Knowing Nyx was VP now, I arched a brow at him, and asked, “Can I speak freely?”

  Nyx’s eyes turned stormy, but he shook his head. “Giulia, Indy? I need you to step outside for a minute. Just until we figure shit out.” He cast a look at one of the guys, saying, “Hawk? Follow them, yeah?”

  Hawk nodded, traipsing after Giulia as she growled under her breath, storming off with a glance that promised she’d make Nyx pay for making her leave, but Indy, the one I thought was his sister, merely cast me a look, then squeezed the inked hand of the man holding her close.

  Declan would know who was who, as he usually liaised with the Sinners, but Da had called Bagpipes to inform him of the stabbing, which meant he was assigning this crapshoot to me to sort out.

  He was a big fucking baby sometimes, but if this was his idea of a punishment, I’d take it. I preferred this to being picked up by his crew, pinned in place, and having the shit kicked out of me.

  I didn’t mind pissing blood for a few days, but I had an insatiable wife to feed my dick to now. That changed things.

  When the women had gone, I demanded, “What does Quin know that you haven’t told us? Why the fuck would they try to target him when we’d arranged for his release?”

  It was clear that they hadn’t expected me to go on the attack. None of this shit was our fault, and we’d been doing the Sinners a favor by getting Quin out early, but I knew how wars started—this was enough for an alliance to turn deadly.

  Nyx scowled at me. “I thought you told Rex you’d have people on him.”

  “We did. There must have been a problem. As it stands, communication is zero right now. His unit is on lockdown,” Forrest chimed in.

  Nyx pursed his lips, but I merely repeated, “You told us he was a kid who’d been shafted by the authorities because he was Native American and he had a racist judge.

  “If the NWS thought he was worthy of targeting before he got out, then there’s something missing from that story, Nyx. What the fuck didn’t you tell us?”

  Nyx clenched his jaw before he lifted his hands and scrubbed them over his face. “Rex told you everything we know. About Craig Lacey, the cop who framed Quin. How he’s the son of a guy who’s running for Mayor in West Orange... there’s nothing else, man. Nothing else we know about anyway.”

  Gritting my teeth because I believed him, I strolled into the den of lions and took a seat next to Nyx. I felt the tension edge up in the bikers, almost like they expected me to pull some kind of stunt, but that wasn’t my intention.

  Instead, I leaned back, rested my head against the wall and muttered, “These fuckers need taking down.”

  For my pains, I received a bucket load of grunts as I stared straight ahead. Forrest was on edge thanks to my location, but I ignored him after the initial glance, preferring to just stare at a damp spot on the ceiling.

  “Are you working on that?” Nyx asked softly, twisting his head to look at me. He was leaning forward, his elbows stacked on his knees, looking like a mixture of The Thinker and a tormented soul in hell.

  Considering the MC’s name, I thought that was more fitting by half.

  “We are,” I confirmed. “You?”

  “We have Lodestar on it. I think she keeps in touch with someone on your end.”

  I hummed under my breath. “My biggest concern is them being everywhere and us not having a pin on any names. Craig Lacey’s practically a beat cop he’s so fresh with a detective shield. What the fuck kind of information are they going to spew the way of a shitty detective who’s only three years into the job and keeps making mistakes?”

  “What kind of mistakes?” Nyx asked.

  “Guess.”

  He shot me a dark look. “Racist prick.”

  “You got it.”

  “He’s still an in.”

  I shook my head. “Not really.” We weren’t going to waste time on one of the sheep when we had the Mayor ripe and ready to pluck. Not that I was going to tell Nyx that. Instead, I just informed him, “We’ve had him under surveillance.”

  Forrest cleared his throat. “He appears to be a low level runner. At best, a courier. He’s been crossing the state lines a lot in an SUV that he hires from the same car rental place over in Brooklyn.”

  One of the guys, the one Indy had been huddled up against, rumbled, “He has a ride of his own?”

  Forrest nodded. “So the SUV shouldn’t be necessary, but he pulls these runs every few weeks.”

  “Drugs?” Nyx queried.

  “We don’t know. Since we learned his name, he hasn’t hired a car.”

  “Because he knows you’re aware of him?”

  “No,” Forrest dismissed. “It’s not time. He has a pattern. When he does, we’ll make sure to sweep the car.”

  “Would it be likely he’s carrying drugs? Why use a new detective?” Indy’s man argued.

  “Who the fuck knows what they’re doing,” Nyx muttered. “We have to start somewhere.”

  I pursed my lips, unwilling to tell him about my in with NYC’s Mayor, especially when I was about to start stretching my fingers where that particular hypocrite was concerned.

  “We’re on it, but it’s imperative we work together.”

  “Agreed,” Nyx rumbled. “Lodestar seems to believe that there’s no high-ranking or low-ranking NWS member.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Just telling you what I’ve been told.” Nyx shrugged.

  “I think you’re wrong,” I said softly, not wanting to cause offense. “At least, I hope you are because that makes them even fucking harder to contain.”

  He pulled a face. “No denying that.”

  “Shit.” I blew out a breath. “How’s your brother?”

  “For the moment, they’ve gotten the bleeding under control.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  Nyx just nodded. “By the time he’s ready to be discharged, they’ll be letting him out a free man.” He cracked his knuckles. “I know I’m not the only brother who’s worrying about how that’ll go.”

  “The Sparrows?”

  “What’s to stop them from coming after him again?” Nyx confirmed.

  “Will it be easier to keep an eye on him when he’s back?” I stared around the waiting room. “I can make sure there’s a Five Pointer on guard here—”

  “That’s not necessary,” Nyx rumbled. “Appreciate it, but we protect our own.” He grimaced. “When we can.” Meaning that his bro had been left wide open to attack because he’d been the only Sinner in his unit in Rikers.

  I wasn’t insulted because I knew, if the situations were reversed, we’d have the same attitude on this subject.

  “We’re going to be looking into how this went down, don’t you worry. All of our prison guards who are on our payroll were conveniently off shift at the same time.”

  Nyx’s brows lowered.
“Christ. The Sparrows really are everywhere.” He swiped a hand over his mouth. “My Old Lady’s pregnant, O’Donnelly. I really don’t want to spend the first eight years of that kid’s life in jail... you know what I’m saying?”

  “I do. None of us are going to jail.” It just felt like the Sparrows were breathing down our fucking necks no matter which way we turned.

  “You can’t promise that.”

  “No, I can’t,” I agreed, “but I know that I’m going to be working on ways to bring the fuckers down.”

  “We are too.”

  “Then we need to make sure we’re coordinating. Where’s Padraig anyway?” He was our usual liaison.

  “He’s back in... West Orange.” The pause was just enough of a hesitation to let me know he was lying. “We had another situation.”

  “Situations—they never let up, do they?”

  Nyx caught my eye. “They fucking don’t.”

  “Not asking for details, but you need our help?”

  He shook his head. “Again, appreciate the offer, but no. Everything’s handled.”

  I nodded. “We’re all in the same boat together.”

  Nyx blew out a breath. “Let’s just hope that fucker don’t sink.”

  We were both on the same page where that was concerned.

  “You won’t hear me—”

  Before I could finish the sentence, alarms started blaring, and nurses and doctors rushed in from out of nowhere, piling into the kid’s room.

  Fuck.

  He was coding.

  Gritting my teeth, I got to my feet as Hawk, Indy, and Giulia ran in, rushing over to their men’s sides, and knowing this wasn’t my place, that this was a time for family, I got the fuck out of there with Forrest at my back.

  “Think he’s gonna die?” I asked Forrest.

  “He bled out a lot,” my bud said gruffly. “He’s gonna be unstable for a while.”

  I tried to find comfort in that, but didn’t find all that fucking much.

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. Shit.”

  “What does he know that they wanted to keep quiet?” I muttered, to no one, to everyone. To the universe if it was listening and willing to answer.

  “God knows. Let’s hope he gets better and he can live to tell us himself.”

  “Agreed.” I grunted, and knowing that being maudlin would get me nowhere, I changed the subject. “You’re sure Coullson is going to be there tonight?”

  Forrest snorted. “You bet your ass he is.”

  “Good.” I flexed my hands in front of me. “It’s time we started putting pressure on him.”

  “Can do.”

  His cell buzzed, and as he read the message, I asked, “Problem?” We were putting out fires left, right, and center—it was just one of those days.

  “Aidan’s been seen heading into the St. Barnabus Community Center.”

  My brow puckered. “Not St. Patrick’s?”

  “No.”

  “Why? It’s your job to keep tabs on him,” I grumbled the reminder, elbowing him in the side to let him know I wasn’t giving him any shit, just yanking his chain.

  Forrest heaved a sigh at my messing, and muttered, “I’d explain if you gave me the chance. I’ve got a guy on Aidan, and then Donny, well, he’s been reporting to Finn already so I figured he could keep us in the loop too.”

  “Finn’s been asking after big bro as well?” Donny was on Aidan’s crew, not Finn’s.

  “Don’t know why you’re surprised. Aidan spends a good three nights a week around Finn and Aoife’s place.”

  I arched a brow. “I didn’t know that.”

  “No, well, I only tell you the really interesting shit.”

  “And why is St. Barnabus’s Community Center interesting?”

  Forrest smirked at me. “Because of what’s going on inside it.”

  “Drumroll, please,” I mocked. “Don’t keep me in suspense, dipshit.”

  “It’s one of those NA meetings but for any and all addicts.”

  “He’s going to support group meetings?” I blurted out.

  “Well, don’t get excited. This is only the third time he’s gone, as far as we know because he can be a slippery cunt, but according to Findleigh, he ain’t said jack each time he’s been.”

  My nose crinkled. “Ain’t that the point of them?”

  “Well, yeah, that’s the point, but let’s face it, he’s gotta build up the courage to actually admit to it. Aidan’s not exactly been raised thinking he’s infallible, has he?”

  “I don’t know. Da was harder on him than the rest of us, and he wasn’t exactly easy on us,” I grumbled.

  “Yeah, but to the rest of the world, it’s always been ‘Junior’s shit stinks of violets.’ ‘Junior’s piss is laced with gold.’”

  My lips twitched. “Really?”

  “You didn’t know?” Forrest scowled at me. “That’s not like you.”

  “I know I get sick of the favoritism,” I rumbled with a shrug, “but I’ve never really bothered worrying about what everyone else thinks about the family. They’re gonna love us or fucking loathe us—so long as we’ve got their respect then I’m okay with things.” I scrubbed my chin as we finally made it to my car. “Saying that, times had better change I guess. We’ve got so many fucking turncoats, I keep expecting Da to yell, ‘The British are coming.’”

  Forrest snickered. “I’d pay to see that.”

  “You know what, bro? I would too.” We shared a grin, then I clapped the roof of my Maserati and murmured, “St. Barnabus is, what? Fifty minutes’ ride from here?”

  “Give or take a few.”

  “Throw in traffic...” I crinkled my nose. “Not exactly doable.”

  “Findleigh was messaging to tell me Aidan’s on the move—the meeting’s over.” He frowned at me. “You want to sit in on a meeting? Don’t that go against the code? It’s supposed to be anonymous, Bren.”

  “I know it is, but nothing’s anonymous in this fucking world.” I hitched a shoulder. “I think it’s for the best if I monitor things.”

  What with Ma talking to a shrink and Aidan potentially dumping a clusterfuck on a group of unsuspecting junkies... someone had to keep the family in line.

  “Anyway, let me know the next time he heads there.”

  “Been going every Friday for a few weeks now.” He cleared his throat. “I told Findleigh to get the fuck out of the meeting hall if Aidan starts talking. Not to let his curiosity get the better of him.”

  “Good. He goes there at the same time?”

  “Yeah.”

  I hummed and made a mental note to stick around that area so I could slip in and listen to whatever shit my big brother was spewing to the masses.

  “Tink get the limo sorted out tonight?”

  Forrest nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got Duncan driving you.”

  “Why Duncan? He’s a little high up the ranks for that, ain’t he?”

  “Boy needs taking down a notch. Getting too big for his own good.”

  “What’d he do?”

  “Got into a couple of fights over the sisters of some runners.”

  My scowl made a swift reappearance. “He ain’t messing around with them, is he?”

  Forrest shrugged. “Won’t be after those fights.”

  I snorted out a laugh.

  “Want me to stick around here? Or get back to The Hole?”

  I pursed my lips. “They don’t want us here, and I think Nyx will keep us in the know.” I let my gaze drift wide, scanning the hospital on the whole before I murmured, “You have any idea what situation they’re trying to manage?”

  “The one that has Padraig still back in the boondocks and not deep in our territory where he should be?”

  “That’s the one,” I said dryly, hiding a laugh because only Forrest would consider ‘New Jersey’ the boondocks.

  He shook his head. “No clue. Want me to find out?”

  “Not actively. Just keep your ears open.”
r />   “Will do, Bren.” He tapped the roof of my car, then started to turn on his heel. “I’ll see ya later.”

  “Will do.”

  I watched him go, relieved that Victoria, Camille’s sister, had picked one of Eoghan’s crew to be her guard. I needed my best men on the NWS situation, and Forrest was at the top of the tree.

  She was family, so I’d have made do with the sacrifice, but was glad I didn’t have to.

  Climbing behind the wheel, I sank into my seat, then I swept the car for bugs. Just a few months ago, I’d done this every couple of days, now, with the NWS, it was every time I got behind the wheel.

  It couldn’t be helped, but it was damn boring.

  Finding zero listening devices, I let my mind wander. Over the past week, my crew hadn’t pulled any moves that made me think they weren’t firmly on my side—if anything, they’d further entangled themselves with the family.

  Tink and Forrest had helped dispose of the thieves behind the jewelry heists, and Bagpipes had helped me transport Callum to a safer location before I’d ended his miserable life.

  When Forrest was like that, when Bagpipes and Tink were as on the fucking ball as always, I felt like a piece of shit for even questioning their loyalties. But no one could be trusted right now.

  Not even my fucking brother or mother.

  Camille?

  I wanted to hope she was different, but only time would tell.

  You don’t need a Prince Charming to save you. You can save yourself. You’re doing it now. You’re doing this now to stop yourself from taking the plunge. You got this. Keep on fighting. It will be worth it tomorrow.

  Thirty-Eight

  Camille

  Was I disappointed that I didn’t see Brennan for the rest of the very long day?

  Yes.

  But... I got to spend most of it with Inessa. After I sent her a picture of my new dresses, she’d come over and we’d converged in the living room, and together, we worked on my hair and nails. Of course, that didn’t take all day, but catching up did.

  We had a lot to make up for, and it was interesting that killing Father was what mended the bridge between us.

  Well, partially, at least.

  The blood on my hands, on my soul, didn’t stop me from enjoying my middle sister to the max.