There was a snort from next to me, and I glanced to the right in time to see Cove rolling his eyes.
“No,” Mr. Killough said simply, as if what I wanted wasn’t even part of the equation, and maybe for a man like him, it wasn’t. “Tell Legend to call your uncle. If I’m forced to be the go-between for a matter this insignificant, neither party will be happy about it. I have better things to do with my time.” After that, there was silence, and when I pulled the phone away from my ear, the call had ended. He hadn’t even said goodbye.
My heart pumped so hard it should’ve rattled my rib cage, and I collapsed back against my seat as I handed the phone off to Cove, who passed it up to Cillian. My hands were shaking when I pressed them against my knees. Fuck, talking to Mr. Killough was like talking with death. How did his voice get so cold?
“What’d the boss say?” Cillian asked, glancing at me through the mirror once more.
I told him the gist of the conversation, then groaned, covering my face with my hands. “I think my family was already annoying him about me. Why? Why can’t they let me do my own thing?”
Fallon turned and smiled at me over the back of his seat, and my heart fluttered a teeny bit. He had model good looks and made me feel weird if I stared at him too long. It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep with him, it was mostly just that there weren’t many people in the world who looked as good as he did. “They care about you. That’s nice, right?”
“I guess.”
“If you don’t stop touching your face, you’re going to ruin your makeup.” Fallon winked.
With a halfhearted laugh, I flipped him off. “It’s already ruined.”
“Bloody fecking hell, boyos. Not one of ye on those fecking bikes can signal a turn? What the feck!” Cillian swerved the van right to follow the bikes.
I wasn’t sure where they were going—or even what we were doing—but we seemed to be in a residential neighborhood with large lawns.
The bikes pulled into the parking lot for a small business in a red tin building. A simple white sign over the door displayed the name Fencing All Around. No one appeared to be here, and it was probably well after hours for this type of place. Cillian followed the bikes, then pulled the van into a spot next to the line they formed close to the curb along the street.
Everyone got out, and I did, too, with adrenaline tickling in my belly. I tugged on the lapels of my suit jacket. This was what I enjoyed about doing my job. I enjoyed the high that came with each assignment. When I was working—even if it was just standing around, waiting for someone to come back to their apartment so I could alert Mr. Killough’s hitmen—I was floating the whole time. The mental boost was fun and addictive, and I liked to think I was good at my job.
Today wouldn’t be the same as what I usually did, though. And there were too many bikes parked in a shiny row. As I got out of the van, I uneasily tugged on Cillian’s sleeve.
“We’re going to attract the attention of literally anyone who cares to look,” I said, nodding at the bikes. “This isn’t a secret plan.”
Cillian grunted. “Despite what Legend had to say, this is about sending a message. Long as we’re out of here before the cops get involved, we’re fine.”
Bluey, the big biker president, grinned at Cillian and whacked him on the back hard enough to nearly send him forward a step.
Cillian glared at him but that seemed to be what he did to everyone—except Fallon.
“The Irishman here is right.” Bluey slapped me on the shoulder and it hurt. “Surprised Legend let his piece of arse off the chain. He must trust us more than he lets on.” Bluey laughed, but when he noticed Cillian still giving him the stink eye, he winked. “There’s a house down the street. One of our boys rode past earlier and saw about twenty cars parked up and down. We think there’s a meeting of the Queensland and New South Wales Italian higher-ups tonight. They probably chose to come here because they’ve been giving Legend hell, trying to buy their way into everything possible and get their hooks back into the area. This is a prime opportunity to tell them to get the hell west where they belong and stay out of here.”
“What’s your plan?” Fallon asked, bouncing around, ready to take on the world. He used a hair tie to put his blond hair up in a bun, and he’d left his suit jacket in the van, along with his long-sleeved shirt. The white undershirt he had left clung to his muscles and made his slim waist stand out. With all his excitable energy, he reminded me of a puppy. Cillian wrapped his arm around Fallon and drew him close to his side.
“We’re gonna go in there to that meeting and smoke out the bastards with these.” Bluey held up a silver metal can with a black pin mechanism on top. “We got thirty of these beauties. They’re tear gas cannisters. Then when they run out, we’re gonna give those fuckers a beatdown they won’t soon forget.”
“That’ll remind them that you know where to find them, too,” Cove said, pointing at Bluey, who laughed. “They’re not the only ones who can find people’s houses and burn them.”
“Righto! Do we have anyone hanging back with the vehicles?”
I immediately raised my hand because I wasn’t confused—Cillian wouldn’t let me within twenty feet of a real brawl. Bluey handed off a small black device to me that looked like a satellite phone and a walkie-talkie had a baby. He turned a knob, and there was immediately chatter on the line.
Bluey tapped the top of my head. “We’re in Alice River, that’s the suburb, and this is Diamond Drive. If you hear any police chatting about getting over this way, let everyone know.” He winked at me.
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir. I like the sound of that,” he said, puffing up his chest, and the bikers with him laughed.
As the other guys gathered around Bluey and took tear gas grenades from a couple of the saddlebags attached to motorcycles, I began to wonder why I’d insisted on coming along. I rubbed my chest. After the accident, getting back to work had been one of the things that had driven my recovery. I liked being useful and having something to do. Sighing, I leaned against the side of the van and turned up the police scanner, but I didn’t hear anything useful.
Someday, I’d hoped to do more for the Company, but now what would my life look like?
Shit, if I really didn’t go home to the US again, what would I do? Would I be Legend’s househusband? A happy bubble settled in my chest at the idea, but it burst as I sighed. No, I would go stir crazy if that was all he wanted me to do. I needed adrenaline or I would get bored and start to hate him. I had to work.
