Mercy grunted as he usually did and crossed his arms. He rocked on his feet and narrowed his gaze at me. “You sure?”
I glared, which was unusual for me toward him, and he nodded sharply, clearly understanding I wasn’t in the mood to be questioned. So, Mercy told me everything from the beginning. About the Italians’ attack and how they’d burned down Mercy’s house and the retaliation our boys had planned. It all made sense, except now two locations had been burned down, which meant the coppers would be hanging around. They’d be quick to assume something weird was happening, and it wouldn’t take them long to connect us to the fires.
I sighed, ignoring the sharp spike of pain that tore through me like a bullet along my spine. While the sting’s aftereffects were on their way to dimming—the severe pain usually only lasted a few hours—it liked to hit me when I least expected it. “Freckles, you know we can’t do it so soon, mate. The jacks will be hanging around and expecting more bullshit. It doesn’t take a scientist to put two and two together.”
“So, we’re not going to do a damned thing?” one of the Americans snapped, and when I gave him a long, hard look, he winced and bowed his head in apology.
“Townsville’s a small city. The cops know who’s who, even if they don’t act on it at the best of times. Hell, for situations like this, they call detectives up from Brissy because the idiots here aren’t trained for it.”
Cillian grunted. “Sir, the Italians need to know who’s in charge around here.”
I laid my arm around Finn’s shoulders, using him for support, and as though he knew exactly what I was doing, he stood straighter and took as much of my weight as he could. Narrowing my eyes at Cillian, I raised my chin. “Do you think I can’t handle my business, Shaughnessy?”
“What?” Cillian jutted his jaw. “Of course you can, sir.”
“I won my territory with brute force, which includes doing business in Bali, Thailand, the Philippines, Malaysia, and Indonesia. I’m not someone who backs down from a fight. I bring the violence to my enemies, but I’m smart about it. Australia is different from America. You can’t walk around in your backyard with an AR15 and use the excuse that you were hunting deer—”
Cillian raised a finger. “I don’t recommend hunting animals with an AR15. If ye’re not careful, it tears them apart and there’s nothing left.”
Fallon slapped him on the arm with the back of his hand, but I ignored them both.
“I don’t get my revenge while I’m angry.” I turned a glare on Mercy, who pressed his mouth into a thin line. “Youshould know that.”
“I do.” Mercy added a grunt with the words and crossed his arms. “Sorry, mate.”
“Then what’s the plan?” Cillian cracked his knuckles, eyes shining bright in the well-lit car park. We were all parked outside a Coles, one of the two big supermarkets in Australia, and we didn’t look any more suspicious than anyone else who parked their cars and had a chat. This kind of get-together was common around these parts, but the only thing that made it odd was the Americans in their suits.
“First, no more fucking suits,” I grumbled, waving impatiently at Cillian. “You stick out like a sore thumb.”
Cillian touched his jacket with a frown but nodded. “Yes, sir.”
A beam of light passed over his face and he blinked at the sudden glare, and the rumble of engines had me groaning. I turned to stare at the stream of motorbikes that pulled into the car park. One of the leather jackets that a biker wore caught my eye, withBloody Oaths MCon the top rocker andTownsvilleandPresidenton the bottom.
“Oh great. These fuckers,” Mercy drawled in his deep, bored tone.
I snorted, too, and patted Finn’s abs, making him turn so we were facing the group of bikers that parked in front of us. Bluey, the president of the Oaths, turned off his Harley and dismounted, standing tall and imposing in his all-black attire. He was a wide man with big shoulders and a bulky frame. Tugging off his helmet, he flashed us a grin as his messy red locks came into view. It seemed like everyone around here had that color hair at the moment.
“Well, well, well, look who we’ve bloody got here. Irishmen.” Bluey laughed and walked toward us, unafraid and undeterred. Technicallyhe was an ally. We were on shaky ground with the Oaths. The bikers had less style and subtlety than we did when it came to dealing with rivals, so we liked to use them on occasion, as long as it didn’t come back on us.
The Americans, including Finn, tensed, and I shook my head at them immediately. “Stand down. The Oaths are....” Not friends. That wasn’t the right word for them.
Bluey chuffed in amusement. “Let’s just call ourselves partners.”
My mouth twitched. “That would mean we’re equal, which we’re not.”
He clicked his tongue as a couple of his mates got off their motorbikes and took off their helmets, too. To his right was a bloke I knew as Boof, and to his left was his vice president, Tiny. His road name was ironic because Tiny was huge, nearly as tall as me, with a solidness that rivaled bodybuilders. It made sense that he had a heavy Harley as a bike.
“I’ve got a joke for you. A group of Irishmen walk into a bar.” Bluey raised his eyebrows, and when I didn’t say anything, he laughed. “That’s it. That’s the joke.”
His men joined him in his chuckled amusement, but I continued to stare at him. The bikers around these parts had less finesse than we did, and they were rough around the edges, but they did good work.
“Why are you here, Bluey?” I asked. A random spike of pain nearly had me doubling over, and I sucked in a deep breath, leaning more of my weight on Finn, who took it like a champ.
Bluey stretched out his arms. “When rumors spread around town about a few familiar houses being set ablaze, I get curious. So, we were heading toward Mercy’s humble abode when we saw you all gathered here like a bunch of teenagers gossiping about who you wanna root.” As if he saw Finn for the first time, his gaze zeroed in on him, eyes sparkling with curiosity as he took a few steps toward him. He waved a finger at Finn. “You’re a different sort, aren’t ya?”
I inwardly cursed myself for not having my gun on me, but that didn’t stop me from stepping in front of Finn to block him from Bluey’s stare. The tension between my guys and his rose quickly. As soon as Mercy yanked out his gun from where he’d stuffed it in the back of his pants—something I’d always hated him doing—and pointed it at Bluey, the rest of the Killough Company, Sweeney Mob, and Bloody Oaths did the same.
Cyclone let out a gasp.
