“You make around one hundred thousand under the table and nearly eighty legally, isn’t that right, Eoin?”
The man nods his head, and I glare at Finn. I suppose he’s toying with the bastard.
“Yet you still stole from us. Not only that, but your dumbass stole from the casino. Of all fucking places. Do you know what it’s going to take to clear this up?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll pay it all back. I’m sorry,” Eoin complains.
“Hold his hand,” Finn demands, and I do just that, holding his hand steady as Finn brings the knife down and cuts off his pinky finger.
He cries out as the small digit rolls to the floor.
Why do fingers always look so strange when they’ve been cut off? They always go straight, looking like little sea creatures who found themselves on the surface and shriveled up and died.
“This is your only warning. We’re sending you to rehab to get this little problem under control. You lie or steal from thefamily again, and you’ll be left in pieces in the desert. Do you understand?” Finn threatens him in a steely voice.
Eoin nods his head. “I’m sorry. Thank you, Mr. O’Brien. I won’t fuck up again.”
“You’d better not. Drop him off at Desert Hope Treatment Center. Fucker cut his finger off while he was high. Isn’t that right, Eoin?”
“That’s right.”
Finn walks away, leaving me with the fingerless man, and I have every desire in the world to pull my gun out to shoot both Eoin and Finn in the foot. He knew where I was. He could have handled this all on his own. Yet, he called me here to handle this alongside him, all to get me away from her.
Fucking bastard.
“You’re lucky it was only a finger, mate.”
“I know. I really fucked up. It’s so different here than from back home,” he sobs, and I sympathize with him for a short moment.
“No more coke, no more prostitutes.”
“You’re one to talk,” he seethes.
I snap, pull out my gun, and shoot him in the head.
A voice croons in the corner. “And I’m the one known for my temper. I’ll call the clean-up crew. Fucking Omega,” Finn grumbles the last part, barely loud enough for me to hear.
Pissed off and knowing he wants it, I turn and punch Finn right in the face. He smiles as he swipes the blood off his lip and grins at me.
“So predictable.”
I almost decide to hit him again but think better of it. If Finn hits back, I’m fucked. Instead, I go home and have my ma clean up my damaged knuckles.
“You won’t impress her looking like a street urchin,” my mother, Maeve, chastises as she digs through my closet.
The woman is invasive as fuck, but there was no way I was leaving her behind when I moved to the States. I’m all she has, and I know if I left her behind, she wouldn’t survive long. She needs to keep busy, and she does that by working around the house for us.
“Ma’, she doesn’t give a shit about those kinds of things.”
“You’re representing the family, Declan. You need to dress like it. Mr. O’Brien is bringing you into the fold. You’re going to be a pack with his sons, part of the O’Brien pack. This is a big deal. You can’t blow it by not dressing the part.”
“I’m just going to see Elena.”
“Looking like you’re going to one of those American football games. Your da’ always looked so nice. It’s why I married him.”
“You met him on your wedding night.” She also grew to fucking hate the bastard.
“And he wore a very handsome suit. He didn’t show up to the chapel looking like he was going to a disco.”
