Eito nodded once. Olivia cracked her knuckles and began tying up her black boots.
Staring at his phone, Peter picked at his shepherd's pie as he sat at the bar at Driscoll’s. Why was apologizing so difficult! Driscoll’s was unusually empty for it being mid afternoon on a Saturday. Peter tapped a few words in his text message to Olivia on his phone before deleting them again. He’d typed out and deleted “I’m sorry for being a jealous asshole” at least ten times in the past hour. Peter sighed and ran a hand over his face.
Girvin raised an eyebrow, “Lady troubles Pete?” He was dressed in a leather vest and long sleeves with his long grey hair pulled back at his neck. He raised his eyebrows at the boy he helped raise and train. Peter looked up at Girvin and nodded.
“Why is it so hard to admit that you’ve been a dumbass and apologize?”
Girvin smirked, “It’s our male insecurities and it shows them we’re vulnerable and make mistakes. You know, roses or jewelry make excellent apology gifts.”
Peter chucked,”I don’t think Livvy is the roses and jewelry type of woman.”
“Well, what does she like?”
Peter thought for a moment, unable to come up with something, anything, that Livvy liked. A grin spread across his face and his looked at Girvin.
“She loves lingerie and stilettos.”
Girvin shook his head, grinning, “I didn’t need to know that, kid. But I guess the good thing now is ya know what to get her.” Girvin moved around the bar, cleaning up and collecting empty glasses. Peter slid his phone into his jeans pocket and took a few bites of his cold food before standing.
“I owe you one, Girvin.”
Girvin waved a hand in his direction, “Get out of here before I kick you out, Driscoll.”
Chuckling, Peter glanced around the pub as he moved towards a vacated table and picked up the dirty dishes and drinks. Peter stepped through the kitchen door and cleaned them off in the sink before throwing them in an adjacent sink full of fresh soapy water.
Girvin stuck his head in as Peter was moving towards the back exit, “Boy, can you take the trash out on your way?”
Girvin pointed to a big black trash bag near the back door.
“Sure. Consider it repayment, old man.”
Girvin shook his head, “No, kiddo. Consider it part of your list of chores from the last twenty years that you skipped out on in favor of throwing cherry bombs in the school’s toilets.”
Peter flushed, “You knew about that?”
Girvin gave him a smile, “I was a kid once too, you know. The principal and teachers christened one of the toilets, The Driscoll, after you. It’s a legend among the students, too. They come in here from time to time, curious if the pub’s name and the toilet are related.”
Peter beamed with pride, “Wow. That’s so …” Girvin gave Peter a stern look while biting back a smile.
Peter cleared his throat and muttered, “I’ll take the trash out. Have a good evening, G.” Girvin chucked and gave a wave of thanks before moving back up front.
Tossing the garbage in the dumpster that smelled of rotting food in the alley behind the pub, Peter looked up at the sky. He didn’t hear the two men in dark yellow ties come up behind him and grab him. He struggled as the needle slid into his neck and he slipped into unconsciousness.
22
The ground was cool against his face and he heard men’s voices and footsteps echoing around him. Peter tried to move his hands but realized they were tied and he was unable to free himself. Blinking his eyes into focus, he looked around and realized he was in a vacant warehouse with half a dozen men wearing puke yellow ties standing nearby. He felt two bodies, one on each side of him, waking from the drug that Sawyer’s men had injected them with.
Peter felt arms grab him from behind and sit him on his knees. He looked to his left and saw Ronan, blinking his eyes wide. Peter’s heart thudded in his chest as he turned his head and looked at his mother on his right, her green eyes blinking up at him. All of them were gagged and tied up. Helpless and outnumbered.
Thick arms sat Roisin up on her knees next to her sons. One of Sawyer’s men stood in front of Roisin and aimed a pistol at her head, Ronan and Peter began to struggle. Two men held pistols to Peter and Ronan’s head. Roisin closed her eyes upon hearing the gun cock. Ronan glared at the man who pushed the barrel of the gun hard on his forehead.
Peter’s chest constricted as he stared at the gun aimed at him. He thought of all the million little things he needed to say to Olivia last night and this morning. He squeezed his eyes shut. He pictured her waiting for him to come home, her hair falling into her face as she snored in their bed.
His throat began to tighten, he was finding it hard to breathe. He tried to remember the last time he’d told her how much he loved her, how much she’d saved his life. He remembered kissing the little cluster of freckles on her shoulder in the shower a million times, he wanted to do that just one more time. One more kiss. One more, then he’d be ready to leave. Any second now.
Gunshots erupted all around them from the darkness. Peter, Roisin, and Ronan looked around as a group of Japanese men in crisp black suits swarmed in from all directions. With posthaste, the men started moving and stacking the corpses of Sawyer’s men to one side of the warehouse, hidden in darkness. One of Sawyer’s men was left alive, wounded in the arm and leg. One of the Japanese men kicked the gun away and pulled the injured man to a sitting position on the floor.
Without a word, three men helped Clan Driscoll up and cut their ties. Roisin, Peter, and Ronan spat their gags out on the floor. Stunned, they didn’t dare speak. The two other men placed three chairs in the center of circular beam of light. In the silence, Peter heard two sets of footsteps approach from his right. Peter turned and watched the two figures come into the light, both of whom he recognized.
“Oh, what … what the actual fuck?!?”
The old Japanese woman smiled at Peter and bowed to Clan Driscoll, “Good evening, I believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting all of you at some point over the past several years. However, I don’t believe I gave you my name when we met. My name is Noriko and it’s so good to see all of you again. Peter, I believe you already know Eito, from the other night.”
Ronan and Roisin looked at Peter, confused. Peter’s eyes flicked towards Eito. Eito gave a small casual wave. Noriko gave a small chuckle and continued, “Now, if you will be patient a few moments longer, we’ll get this show on the road. Excuse me.” She bowed to Roisin and walked towards Eito. Eito and Noriko moved towards the injured man who groaned in pain on the floor.
Eito spoke as he pressed down on each of the man’s wounds, inflecting more pain, “Call your boss, Sawyer, and tell him to get his ass here. Tell him, Driscoll wants to bargain and he’s needed to discuss terms.” They all listened as the injured man made the call to Sawyer Harrison. Peter looked around the dark warehouse, he had the odd feeling that he was being watched by someone in the dark.
Roisin watched as the man hung up the phone and Noriko eyed the man, “Thank you.” Noriko pulled a small knife hidden beneath her shawl and slit the man's throat before he had time to react. Blood spilled everywhere as the man bled out. Noriko walked over to one of the chairs that was set near Clan Driscoll and sat down. The two chairs, one occupied by the old woman from Clan Chiko, faced the single chair at the center of the beam of light. Noriko wiped the blood from her knife and put it back in to a pocket inside her shawl.
She spoke a few words to Eito in Japanese who pulled out his phone and sent a text before standing behind her. Minutes passed before everyone in the warehouse turned towards the sound of tires squealing and car doors slamming on the other side of the warehouse. A couple of Chiko’s men moved into position before smoothing down their crooked ties and wrinkles in their suits.
Running footsteps and six men came into the warehouse with their guns drawn. It was six, well seven if you included Sawyer. Sawyer’s men started shouting at the Japanese men who qu
ietly held their guns pointed towards their target. At 40, Sawyer Harrison was tall and bald. His mistresses said he was handsome even with sunken eyes and a nasty drug habit that was wasting away at body. His dark eyes were darting everywhere. He had just snorted a handful of coke right before and wasn’t expecting his plan to go south.
“Please, lower your weapons Harrison. I assure you, your men will not be harmed,” Noriko said. Peter heard footsteps coming from his right. Eito heard them and turned as Olivia stepped out of the darkness. She stood taller, serene, calm. Her body language was completely different than what she had been projecting over the past month with Peter. Peter blinked a few times in shock. What the fuck. Olivia gave Sawyer a small smile as she sat down, back stiff and chin raised.
Sawyer looked lost for words, “... You? ...”
With her brows knitted, Olivia folded her arms, never taking her eyes off of Sawyer, “Me.”
Spitting and pointing at Olivia, Sawyer yelled, “You’re supposed to be fucking dead!”
Olivia crossed her legs, tilting her head, “Yet, here I am.”
“If you want to know how I’m still alive, tell your men to drop their weapons, Gregory.”
Shaking, Sawyer glared at her before motioning for his men to drop their weapons.
“You know I hate that name. That was his name.”
Roisin furrowed her brow, recognizing the name.
Olivia looked up at him, “That was his name and your birth name. Sit your coked out ass down in that chair, Gregory Sawyer Harrison.”
Ronan watched as a dazed Sawyer sat down across from Olivia. The Japanese men still held their guns drawn towards Sawyer’s men, ready to defend their boss to the death. Eito leaned over and handed Olivia a 9mm that she rested in her lap. It was her favorite gun. Now that Sawyer was in the light, Ronan saw the family resemblance between him and the woman who sat across from him.
Ronan nudged a dumbfounded Peter and whispered, “Look at the resemblance.”
She watched Sawyer for a few seconds before speaking, “I have to say, you look like shit. Business problems? Troubles with your shipments from Japan?”
“What concern is that of yours?”
Olivia gave a small devilish smile. Ronan sucked in a breath, he’d seen that smile once before, that night at the pub when he was questioning Olivia.
“Everything in this town concerns me, Gregory.”
Everyone heard a single set of footsteps hurrying towards them, coming up behind Sawyer’s seat. Olivia’s eyes watched the shadows as a man with spiky grey hair with a salt and pepper beard emerged from the dark, “Nice of you to join us Dmitri, we’re just getting started.”
Roisin’s heart stopped. Dmitri. He moved towards Olivia, “Sorry, traffic,” he said in Russian. Olivia nodded and responded in Russian, “Don’t worry about it.” Dmitri placed his hands behind his back and stood behind Olivia’s chair. Sawyer looked from Dmitri to Olivia. They both stared back at Sawyer, unblinking.
“Dmitri, eight years ago, your best friend and business partner was murdered along with his family. Tell me, what was his name?”
Never taking his eyes from Sawyer and speaking in English with a slight Russian accent, “His name was Gregory Harrison. His wife was Catriona Elizabeth.”
Olivia gave a sad smile, “How many children did they have?”
Dmitri’s eyes narrowed at Sawyer, “Three. Gregory Sawyer, Olivia Catriona, we all called her Livvy, and Claira Mae Harrison.”
Livvy. Her brother. Peter felt bile working up in his stomach.
Without emotion, Olivia picked up the story, “The day you murdered them, I was on my way home from closing up the shop for Dad. When I got home, your men were already gone. I found Mom dead at the foot of the stairs. Claira had ran towards the back door, your men shot her twice in the back and threw her down the basement stairs. Downstairs, Claira's college roommate was doing laundry. Your men assumed it was me. Similar height and build.
They saved Dad for last. As you requested, they used silencers so he didn’t hear the gunshots. Your men were terrible shots by the way, especially since Dad disarmed one of them and fought back. They ran out, leaving him barely alive.”
Sawyer’s eyes glinted.
“I came home to find my mother, sister, my sister’s friend, dead. Dad was barely alive, we both knew who had done this. He always knew you would rise up some day. That’s why he was grooming me to be his second. He knew you could never handle it, you never wanted to get your hands dirty, do the jobs yourself. With the last few breaths in his lungs, he told me what to do. I had to run. I turned on the stove and flooded the house with gas. It was deemed a gas explosion by investigators.”
Sawyer huffed and looked bored. In a flash, the man to his left fell with a bullet in his head, courtesy of Olivia. “That asshole attitude might have worked when we were younger, don't try that on me now.”
Sawyer gave a snort, “They all deserved it. What, you think you’re a badass now because you can fire a gun. Dad didn’t--”
Olivia’s mouth curled into a sneer, “Don’t interrupt me.”
Resting her gun in her lap, Olivia kept her finger on the trigger and continued, “As I was saying, I ran. Hopped on the next flight out of Chicago. I've never been a big believer in fate … until the day you murdered our family.”
Roisin leaned in, her eyes flickering as she listened to Olivia.
“The first flight I could get on was to Tokyo, Japan. On the plane, I was seated next to a older woman who was trying her hardest not to weep while she stared out the window during take off. We began to talk during the long flight. Turns out, she had come to Chicago, looking for her daughter who was pulled off the streets in Tokyo and sold into slavery.
Her daughter was the light of her life. The woman had tracked her daughter to California, Denver, and finally to your operation in Chicago. You made a big mistake going international so quickly and continually snatching Dmitri's women off the streets. A man who does that is bound to make some enemies in his life.
Turns out the old woman I sat next to on the plane was the daughter of the biggest Yakuza boss in Japan. Meaning, the girl your men kidnapped, raped, and eventually killed was his only granddaughter.”
Olivia looked from her brother to Noriko, who sat with her eyes wet with tears.
“Allow me to introduce you to Noriko,” she gestured towards the Japanese woman, “daughter to Masaru Taoka, boss of the Taoka-kai. Noriko is second in command of Clan Chiko.”
Peter's breath was coming in rasps now. How had he not seen any of this.
“Noriko and I arrived in Tokyo. Turns out we had a lot more in common than we'd realized. So Noriko finished what our father couldn't, thanks to you. She groomed me, with the help of my new Yakuza family. I watched, I waited, and I built my own empire. All in the name of revenge.”
Sawyer's eyes grew distant and cold as he listened. Peter shook his head and dug his fingernails into his palm. Roisin sucked in a breath. Ronan ran his hand over his face.
Olivia smiled at her brother.
“For the past eight years, I learned who were your enemies and who were your allies. Dmitri, I knew, wanted your head for what you did to our family. But he was smart. He kept his mouth shut and carried on as usual. That is, until you got greedy and started moving in on his territory and stealing his merchandise right off the street.
I came back to Chicago a few years ago and made contact with him. Giving him the financial backbone to hold you off. He told me there was one other family that would be bold enough to consider a business partnership to fight against you.”
Olivia looked over at Roisin, holding her gaze for a minute.
“You've been skimming off of Dmitri’s and Clan Driscoll’s profits for years. Now, you're finally getting greedy enough to wipe them out. Your bullying and intimidation of the other families brought you money but you want more. You want territory. What better way to do that than to take out the lower families first.”
> Sawyer gave a small chuckle, “You expect me to believe you about any of that.”
Olivia lips parted into a wry smile. Sawyer was going to try and get under her skin, just like when they’d been kids.
“Check your bank account. Both of them and your offshore one.”
Sawyer sniffed and yawned. Olivia raise her gun and aimed it at one of his men standing to the left and fired.
“If you want to know how serious I am, check them.”
Sawyer stared her down as he reached in his suit pocket, several more guns were aimed towards him. Pulling out his phone, Sawyer signed in and checked his Chicago accounts. He paled and his hands begin to shake. Sawyer clicked through several secure links and pulled up the Swiss bank where his offshore account was hidden.
Sawyer sagged and shook his head as he veins popped from his forehead.
“As you can see, I've taken everything. Well … almost everything. My men are in the process of wiping out the rest of your men and all of your businesses and assets. Your territory is now mine as it always should have been. There was a reason Dad was grooming me and not you for his job.” Olivia snapped her fingers and the four remaining men near Sawyer dropped with a bullet in their head. Sawyer went pale, his knees buckled and he started shaking.
“Our father always said that with business, in order to be a respected boss, you must be willing to get your hands dirty.”
Noriko pulled a small syringe filled with light yellow liquid from her shawl and held it out towards Olivia. Olivia turned and met the old woman's eyes. Noriko nodded her head once. Olivia took the syringe and held it in her palm. Staring at her palm, she spoke a few words to Eito in Japanese.
Eito moved to the right side of a shaking Sawyer and pulled him up to face his sister, holding him so he wouldn't try and run. Olivia stood and set her gun down on her chair. Peter saw a slight hint of nervousness flitter across her face but it was gone in the blink of an eye.
“If you are hoping for a quick and painless death, I'm letting you know that won't be the case. Noriko wanted your throat cut. Dmitri wanted to torture you until you begged for death. In the end, I made this decision.”
Blood & Fists: Bare-knuckle Series #1 Page 9
