“Why are you following us?” I ask, sipping at my gin for a taste of home. “Or do you have a death wish in general?”
“I’m Senator Gallagher’s personal security. He’s asked me to reach out to you regarding Miss Gallagher.”
“I think you mean Mrs. O’Connor, and I know who you are. Devin Franklin, right?”
A slimy smile. “Of course. A scotch on the rocks,” he tells the waiting bartender.
“You’ve come a long way to order a drink. Don’t they have scotch in the States?” I ask mildly.
“Your wife is asking questions, and I’m sure you’ll understand that the senator would prefer she stop. She’s stirring up trouble.”
“She does tend to do that,” I say into my drink.
“Then you understand our predicament.”
“I understand that I gave Senator Gallagher a warning. I told him if he ever threatened my wife again, he’d regret it.”
He sighs, like this is one big waste of time for him. “Don’t make us get nasty, O’Connor. We can make this a nightmare for you, too. For her. If you don’t want to play ball, you can kiss her graduation goodbye. Her future in law? It’ll be DOA, you understand. Dead on arrival. Your casino? Maybe your business permits get canceled. Your liquor license. The building gets condemned. There are a million ways we could make this go bad.”
“Nasty, you say?” I finish my gin and throw some notes on the counter. “Sounds like a threat.”
“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”
“And if I said I wanted to make a deal?”
Franklin leans back and finishes his drink. “I’d say you were a smart man.”
“Let’s take this out back then, so we have some privacy,” I suggest, and like a fucking eejit, he agrees.
“I knew you were a reasonable man,” he says to my back, as I lead him through the pub, down a darkened hall to the back alley. If he knew any better, he’d realize I didn’t consider him a threat by giving him my back. “Catriona, that girl has always been trouble. Sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. I’m sure she means well, but honestly, she’s a stubborn little bitch. But I suppose you know that already, what with being married to her and all.”
“Oh, I know.”
The alley is clear except for a drunk who toddles off with one sharp look from me. Then we’re alone. The shadows from the nearby buildings are thick, allowing me to conceal the gun I pull from my waistband.
“I told Mr. Gallagher you would. You seem like a reasonable man. He didn’t think you would agree, but I insisted.”
“Of course.” I peer around us for cameras, but none cover the alley that I can see. Perfect. “About that deal.”
“Yes. The senator is willing to put in a good word for you with?—”
Unfortunately, I don’t get to figure out the ways in which Rory Gallagher is willing to sell out his daughter, because the moment Devin Franklin turns around, I have my Glock pointed between his eyes.
“You know, I never thought I was much like the man who raised me. I prefer to think I got most of my personality traits from the man who made me, but I guess now, I know for certain there’s some truth to the nurture aspect of that whole debate.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
“Oh, I don’t think I will. Because you see, Franklin, I told Rory if he ever threatened my wife again, I’d have a problem, and he didn’t listen. Now—let’s not embarrass ourselves with tears, Franklin. You need to take this like a man.” I pause. “Where was I? Right. Now, the man who gave me life, he would have made some overtures. Gave you some hints. Knocked you around. Took a few fingers.” At this, Franklin whimpers. Pussy. “But the man who raised me, well, he was from a different school of thought. He didn’t believe in overtures.”
“Look, you need to understand, your wife is?—”
“What my wife does or doesn’t do is not your concern.”
“I’m telling you now, man to man, she’s going to get herself hurt.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing she has me, isn’t it?” I flip the safety and cock the gun. “I want to know everything he’s said to you, and what she’s told you.”
“N-nothing, I promise. She was just busting my balls about her mom, man.”
