Forrest shook his head. “I don’t know where he is, Bren.”
“Fuck.” I hissed the curse under my breath, then in a wave of rage, wiped my hands over my desk, sending everything pouring onto the floor. Laptop, desktop, pens, paper, everything went flying.
Amid the chaos, I let my fingers curve over the sides, with my knuckles aching, I rasped, “I’m going to have to speak with Da.”
“I’m sorry, Bren. We had Duncan and Franklin on him. You know they’re good at that shit.”
I gritted my teeth before I raised a hand and said, “Just leave, Forrest. It’s no one’s fault. Just...” I blew out a breath. “Just get outta here.”
Tink muttered, “Bren? You still want me to take O’Reilly’s corpse to the pig farm?”
I didn’t look up, just kept my head bowed as I rumbled, “Yeah. Get rid of that before it gets us in the shit.”
“You telling your da about him?”
“No.”
“Okay. I’ll make sure no one sees.”
“Good.”
I heard the door open and close and knew only Bagpipes would be remaining. “Still no word from Conor?” I rasped.
“No.”
“Fuck, I’d ask if this morning could get worse, but let’s face it, I have to talk to my fucker of a father so yeah, I know for a fact it will.” I snarled under my breath before I straightened up. “If Conor’s gone AWOL on us, then we need info on this Ainsley McKenna.”
“Census records?”
I pulled a face. “That’s a needle in a haystack, ain’t it?”
“Ainsley’s not a common name. McKenna is, sure, but not Ainsley.”
“True. Give it a try. No worries if you don’t come up with anything.”
“You’re being surprisingly forgiving today,” he tried to tease, but I wasn’t in the mood for it.
“Don’t, Baggy. Just don’t.”
“Sorry, Bren,” he said gruffly. “I’ll get on it.”
“Thanks, man.”
“You sure it’s wise not to tell him about Callum?”
I shook my head. “I can’t handle the fallout. It won’t be worth it either. He’ll just go apeshit and it’ll affect his judgment more than it already is.”
“He’s a high-ranking son, Bren. His going missing will make waves.”
“And I’ll deal with them as it comes. We’re already drowning,” I rumbled. “What’s one more tsunami?”
He grunted, but didn’t argue because he knew I was right.
“Shall we start spreading rumors?”
I peered over at him. “What kind of rumors?”
He shrugged. “Just a word here, a whisper there. Casting aspersions on the people he comes into contact with?”
The idea had merit. “That might be wise. Then, it’ll seem like one of his non-Five Pointer contacts killed him. Or, maybe, that he ran to avoid something.”
Bagpipes nodded, then tapped his nose. “Leave it with me.”
Gratitude filled me, followed quickly by shame. I’d doubted him, Forrest, and Tink, but these were the only bastards I could trust.
“Thanks, man.”
He shrugged. “No big deal.”
Temper still kindling, even though he’d doused water on it with his idea, I reached for my landline the second he shut the door behind him, connected a call to Da, and placed it on speaker.
When it rang a few times, I almost hoped the bastard wouldn’t answer, but I should have realized that was wishful thinking.
“Bren?”
“Yeah.” An awkward pause hit because I knew he wasn’t feeling bad about what he put Camille through, and I was very much feeling bad about it.
“You got news for me?” he rumbled when the silence extended with neither of us saying a word.
“I got a whole lot of jack shit. This fucking rat’s nest is driving me insane. Whichever way I go, there’s something going down. It’s like living in a conspiracy theory.”
“That’s exactly what it is,” Da agreed. “Want to start at the beginning? You know I cut you a lot of sway, so I stay out of the loop until you key me in but you ain’t done that for a while.”
Thanking God for small mercies that he had no idea how in the dark he was, I muttered, “That kid, Quin, you got out, you remember the detective who framed him?”
“Lacey? Some chick’s name, right?”
“Yeah, Craig Lacey. We’ve had a tail on him for a while, trying to figure out his role in the group. He’s only a small fry in the 42nd, still considered a rookie from what Forrest hears, but the Sparrows use him as a courier to cross over into Jersey.
“Anyway, before we brought him in, we wanted to wait until he pulled another haul across the state line, maybe use that to blackmail him if whatever he’s carrying is illegal, but we think we’ve figured it out.
“Those thieves behind the robberies squealed. Said that some Five Pointer told the brains of the operation that Hummel’s wasn’t protected by the Points anymore.”
“What?” Da snapped.
“According to them, Hummel’s is involved in something shady, Da. Are you in on it?”
“If I was, then you’d know about it, boy. What’s he cutting us out of?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know the fucking Pointer who told them that shit,” I lied.
“You didn’t get it out of them? Leave them to me.”
“Only the brains knew and he died with his trap firmly closed.”
“Fuck,” my father howled. “How could you be so clumsy?!”
“Getting that shit out of him about the shady dealings was hard enough,” I snapped, unapologetically lying once more about Callum O’Reilly, mixing up what both he and the thieves had told us, “but he dropped another name.”
“Craig Lacey.”
“Yeah.”
My da’s heavy breathing sounded down the line.
“We’re starting to think that his haul is related to the robberies. Those gems had to be fenced somewhere, and even though the robbers gave us a number, it was a dead end.” Here came the kicker. “He dropped his tail this morning.” I closed my eyes, waiting on the explosion, and when it came, I just gritted my teeth at the verbal bombs he hurled my way. When his rant was over, I snapped, “If you’re done, I have some good news.”
“Oh, you do, do you? What the fuck would that be, Bren? Have you figured out who’s behind this fuckfest but decided to let them go free because they said sorry?”
My top lip curled into a sneer. “Fuck off, old man. I’m as knee deep in the trenches as you are. I’m pulling my weight and doing what I can to unravel this mess. I can’t do any more than I already am.”
A gust of air was my answer, before he rattled out, “What’s the good news?”
“We got a name from Coullson.”
“You sent it to Conor?”
“Yeah, but he’s not picking up his phone.”
“Probably on a bender. You know what he’s like when he’s on that damn computer,” Da dismissed, and his leniency with Con, though I was glad for his sake, pissed me off.
Fucking favoritism.
“Yeah, probably.”
“What’s the name?”
“Ainsley McKenna.”
Silence fell at that, then he muttered, “Why does that sound familiar?”
I cocked a brow he couldn’t see and asked, “Really? If you figure out where you know it, clue me in. As it stands, I’ve got Bagpipes going to the Census, and I’m going to ask the Sinners to use their contacts to find this guy.”
“No, don’t share the name with them.”
“Why not? We need to find this bastard. At the moment, he and Coullson are all we’ve got. Caro Dunbar ain’t reliable. I don’t know how long she’s got left but she came to The Hole complaining about picking up a tail.”
“She has. One of us.”
“You could have told me,” I snapped.
“Like you tell me everything?”
My nostrils flared w
ith anger, but I just bit off, “Well, she’s safe then.”
“As safe as a double-timing rat can be.” He grunted. “Okay, keep me in the loop about this guy Coullson dropped. This McKenna.”
“I will.”
I didn’t say bye, neither did he as I slammed the phone down on him and he probably did the same to me.
For a second, I stared at the mess I’d made in my office, then I twisted around, plunked my ass on the side and stared out the window at the shit heap outside this building.
The sensation of drowning was hard to overcome.
I hadn’t shared everything with him, because he was enough of a lunatic without me adding to that by telling him the Sparrows were behind the drive-by at Finn’s wedding, and that Ma had picked up a tail along the way as well.
We were getting nowhere fast with the Sparrows, and all I knew was that their reach, their touch had been directly affecting my family for years without us even knowing it.
Finding their nest had never been more important, but it had never felt more impossible either.
The sky is really blue today. Imagine not being able to see that again. Try not to make today the last chance you get to enjoy it.
Forty-Three
Camille
As I wrapped a scarf around my hair, I watched as Bagpipes rounded the block and pulled onto the street that housed the Russian Orthodox Church Inessa used.
It was new to me.
Instead of the place where Mama had always gone, one that was deep in Russian territory, we were on the border of Irish and Russian territory instead.
It didn’t take a genius to wonder why that was.
If Eoghan was the control freak Brennan painted him as, her being this close to Russian territory was a massive concession in and of itself.
“Text me when the service is over. I’ll be in the vicinity.”
It was one of the few times I’d let Bagpipes drive, but then, that was because we had a convoy of guards with us.
“Okay. Will do.”
“Good. Don’t go out into the open until I text you to tell you I’m waiting.”
“I don’t see what the problem is,” Inessa grumbled, her blonde hair tucked into a headscarf as well. “I’ve been coming here for ages and it’s in our territory. I switched when Eoghan asked me to.”
Bagpipes and I shared a glance in the mirror. “Did she really just ask such a dumb question?”
I winced. “I think she might have forgotten about the Pakhan’s death.”
Victoria shoved Inessa in the side. “How could you forget about Papa?”
Inessa pulled a face. “Well, he’s just not that memorable. Anyway, who’s going to do anything in a church?”
“You weren’t around for Finn and Aoife’s wedding or its aftermath,” Bagpipes said wryly, “but I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about it. The sanctity of church doesn’t exactly mean much nowadays. Anyway, you’ll have guards going in with you, but Forrest and I will be watching the perimeter. We’re more concerned about external forces.”
I nodded, just inwardly sighed because I didn’t want to come here, period. It seemed unnecessary, but who was I to question Inessa’s need to reconnect with her faith? That she wanted to include me was a gift I didn’t intend on besmirching. Even if I thought she was nuts.
Hell, we all did crazy things from time to time, and going to church wasn’t usually classified as a way of letting one’s hair down.
I thought I’d have preferred for her to request we visit a sex shop together, or to go to a strip club, but nope, my sister had to be boring.
As he pulled up outside the church that was foreign to me, I climbed out and smiled down at Victoria when she tucked her arm into mine.
“I’m surprised you’re here,” she said on a whisper, peering out of a Hermès scarf that was not in her usual shade of dull, but a hot pink that made her look more her age than the Jackie O get-up she was wearing.
“Why? Because I’m a heathen?” I whispered back.
She giggled. “No, because you think this is all mumbo-jumbo like me.”
I pulled a face. “Don’t let Innie hear you say that.”
Her sniff had me laughing. “I can have my own opinions.”
“You can, but you shouldn’t diss her faith. We all have our crutches. This is hers.”
Victoria hummed as she stared up at the looming building. The red brick facade made the green copper domes stand out even more. Whenever I went to an Orthodox church in the States, I always felt like I could be in Moscow.
Not that I missed the city. I’d never really liked it there, even if I’d always appreciated Father’s house which was tucked away in the Rublyovka suburb.
“I guess we do. Mine’s studying.”
“Is that why I haven’t seen you all week?” I placed my hand on top of hers and squeezed. “You’ve been studying?”
I’d been dying to visit her, but Inessa hadn’t invited me over to her place, and I didn’t want to impose. When Victoria had ignored the texts I’d sent, I’d just let her get on with it. I couldn’t force a relationship on her. Rebuilding what I had with Inessa was gift enough, and letting Vicky have her space was something I prayed she’d appreciate in time.
If she was going to be candid with me now, though, I had to hope that I hadn’t been wrong. You caught more flies with honey than vinegar, after all.
“Yes, plus I—”
When she fell silent, I prompted gently, “Are you settling in at Inessa and Eoghan’s?”
She bit her lip. “I feel bad, Cammie.”
“Why? Don’t you like it there?”
She peered up at me, her expression miserable. Just as my heart clutched, she whispered, “It’s so nice there.”
That had me blinking. Relief whacked me in the face. “That’s great, isn’t it?”
“Well, it is, but that’s why I wanted to come here today.”
“Because you like where you live now?”
She shook her head. “Because... I mean, I didn’t want it to happen, Cammie. I really didn’t. I promise.”
“I believe you,” I said softly.
“What do you believe?” Inessa asked as she finally climbed out of the car too. We all rushed up the stairs toward the front entrance with its high stone arches once Bagpipes merged back into traffic as Victoria admitted:
“I think I’m glad Papa’s dead.”
Inessa and I shared a look.
“That’s terrible, isn’t it? What kind of monster is glad their father died?” she mumbled sadly.
“You’re not a monster,” I told her, squeezing her hand again. “He was the monster.”
Once we were under the cover of the front entrance, we headed into the vestibule. There, amid the crowd of worshipers just waiting to flock into the church itself, I stopped her, turned her to me and wrapped her in my arms. Holding her tightly, gladness swelled inside me. Not just because she let me, not just because she hugged me back, but because I’d done this. I’d given her this freedom. I’d ridden her of the pest who’d forever plague her, who would have destroyed her life when she had so much to live for.
At some point, I knew Maxim would come calling, wanting his debt repaid, but I vowed to myself, to God in his temple, that I’d make sure Maxim got to know Victoria. That he’d make her fall for him, would court her and cherish her. If he didn’t, I’d make sure he was the one who paid for it.
Inessa released a soft cry before she huddled around us, hurling herself into the hug, and for a couple of seconds, I thought I knew what heaven actually felt like.
I was accepted.
I was back in the circle.
I was with my sisters—my family, the only family who were tied to Mama, and it felt good. Better than good. It felt like I was finally warm again.
Tears pricked my eyes, and I wasn’t ashamed of them. Wasn’t ashamed of any of the things I’d done in the past two weeks.
I had blood on my hands, but for the first time in forever,
I felt like I could breathe. I felt whole. I felt like I had a future, because that bogeyman of my past was no more.
Pressing a kiss to Vicky’s head, I reached behind me to squeeze Inessa’s hand, and as I did, I heard a mocking voice that sent loathing hurtling through me.
“What a touching display.”
Innie and Vicky tensed up, but I didn’t.
It served me right to think I could have some peace when Abramovicz was still roaming this world.
If I had a gun in my hand, I’d have pointed it at him and pulled the trigger.
Church be damned.
Bagpipes had a point—it really wasn’t the sanctuary it used to be.
Shoulders straightening, I twisted around to face him. The sight of his wobbling jowls, those beady eyes, and the mutton-chop sideburns were enough to inspire ridicule, but this man was dangerous. Laughing at him would come at one’s own peril.
What was even more dangerous?
The dozen men who were waiting on us, and the lack of a crowd which told me they’d headed in for the service, leaving the Bratva footsoldiers behind.
We were surrounded by them. Encircled.
Bagpipes had been wrong, after all. The threat wasn’t external, but internal.
Throat tight, I rasped, “I didn’t think you were a believer, Denis.”
“Oh, it’s funny what death and grieving will do to a man. The Pakhan’s loss has affected us all in many ways. For me, I’ve made it my solemn duty to ensure the people responsible for his death pay for their sins.” His lips twisted into a snarl. “Contain them.”
Two words.
That was it.
The Bratva were an army, after all. They didn’t care that we were the ex-Pakhan’s daughters as they rushed us, especially as, from the Sovietnik’s words, he believed we’d helped the Irish kill Father and he’d brainwashed these boyeviks into believing that too.
With four men to each of us, I knew the odds of escape were impossible, but we had to try. I had to try. In some things, I might be passive, but where my sisters’ physical security was concerned, I sure as hell wasn’t.
The boyeviks were some of the largest I’d seen and I didn’t recognize a single one of them. Father had been pulling men in from Moscow to make up for the losses in the war against the Famiglia, so a lack of recognition came as no surprise, but even if we had known them, they wouldn’t have helped us.
Filthy Sex: The Five Points’ Mob Collection: Four Page 42
