I drop my eyes to the floor to hide the pain of Oscar’s words, because by God, it is agonizing. I don’t have too long to deal with the shock of Oscar’s callousness because O’Leary speaks again, implicating himself and others. Providing me the intel I need.
“Tell Olga to send in Catalina to get her ready. And, Black, you’re to hand deliver this one to Sovietnik. She might be a pretty prize for our Russian associate to ruin, but the heatyou’vebrought with her is counterproductive to our cause. Inyourimpatience, we’re pushed to act earlier than intended.”
Black goes to argue, but O’Leary renders him silent with a look.
That simple look confirms Black is nothing but a lackey, but it also lets me know O'Leary has been hiding his designation under his holy robes for way too long.
Black ignores the room, and his focus locks onto the woman. He’s unrepentant in the way he stares longingly at her. He’s all but pleading with her to stand up and claim him as hers, but instead of standing, she curls her manicured hand in Oscar’s.
“You’re always welcome to come play, but Aisling is ours, Black.” O’Leary speaks intimately, almost like I’m not here. But at the same time, he’s firmly putting Black in his place, humiliating him with each word he says. “She never was yours, even when she was married to Arthur. Don’t make a fool out of yourself, chasing whispered pillow promises said to keep you in the game. Tally is a good example of what happens when people don’t properly understand their place.”
Out of church and dressed in civilian clothes, O’Leary is an entirely different person. There’s not one iota of compassion or empathy, and honestly, his energy reminds me more of the devil than a man of God. Even the way he speaks and hisses all but confirms what a snake he is. “If we have issues with the Garda, Black, I will come for you. We’ve established a very successful and profitable business of selling children together. Don’t let petty jealousy ruin a good thing. With all the money you’ve made, you can buy yourself whatever gold-dipped cunt you want. Aisling, though, isn’t for sale.”
“What about Mass?” Black calls out, and Oscar and O’Leary look at him.
“It goes on without you,” O’Leary says. “All I need is a gunman, Black. And like dirty cops and cheap hoors, they’re as common as sand on the beach around here.”
I wish I had the chance to stay and watch the shitstorm happen some more, but Father O’Leary stands up, along with Oscar and Aisling. The three of them start walking. They onlyfalter when, from the other room, there’s a cacophony of sounds as alerts hit mobiles and a scanner bursts to life.
Doyle races through the door. “Everyone needs to go. Now.”
At a sign I miss, another group of men, all looking to Black for direction, stream from all sides of the warehouse. Groups converge and steer towards the three setups. The car gets driven straight out of the doors. Even though I was never going to get in, the cruel setup Black did, insinuating it was fitted out with a car bomb, isn’t missed. Next, the cushions are taken. I feel sick watching the casual way the place where I was assaulted is cleared away. Beside me, the barrel is the only thing that is handled with more care. It gets loaded into a mover’s van.
I’m caught in everything happening around me, watching Black as he oversees everyone. For a split second, I seriously think this is my chance. With him distracted, I search for which exit is the busiest to see where I can go.
Black’s hawk-like gaze sharpens over my shoulder. I don’t get the chance to check behind me to see what’s got him glaring before someone grips my elbow, crushing it and sending me staggering.
As I swing around, Johnny’s black and blue mottled face fills my vision. He’s closer than I realized anyone was. I’m defenseless to the anger roiling off him, not even getting a hand up in surrender. And then he barks at me. “Submit.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
RAFFERTY
“I’ve reached saturation.”
Keegan looks down at me, waiting for an explanation. From where I am, my head on his lap, the row of shops burning down in front of us, the green in his eyes has an iridescence making him look unworldly.
I grab his hand to intertwine his fingers with mine as I chase more of my Alpha’s influence. He brushes my hair off my face with a tenderness that doesn’t match the way he’s been working with brutal efficiency to find our enemies.
His eyes jump up to where his hand was on my forehead, and a new crease appears.
Sighing, I squeeze his hand. “What did you put on me?”
“Ash,” Keegan admits with a grimace. “Or dirt. Hopefully not blood.” He stops talking and concentrates on cleaning whatever it was he just put on my face.
My brother and Ronin come from across the road and join us while Keegan’s still rubbing away. I reach for Ronin with myother hand, and he hesitates, checking how dirty he is. Honestly, we all look like we’ve survived an atomic blast.
Ronin stays away, but the sweet adoration in his hard stare, and the plume of perfume he clouds me in, is enough to sate my pouty, demanding Omega. Temporarily.
It’s not the first time in our lives I’ve found issue being an Omega in an Alpha’s world. Even knowing the circumstance—like our Omega being fucking missing—I still need the possessive reassurance of my Alphas’ touch every few hours.
We have stood shoulder to shoulder and interrogated more people than I can remember. We’ve burned houses, and businesses, to the ground. Emptied our enemies’ homes of every possession they have and threatened any person who tried to stop us. It’s been necessary, cathartic, even, but amongst the carnage, we’ve had to take time out for me to get a little cuddle in.
“Get over yourself, Omega,” Keegan growls above me, his hands back in my hair, this time to wrench my head back. A reminder of my strength, I think, or a promise for later. “You give more than you take. Come on, get your lazy arse up. We’re going home for a few hours. We all need a shower and some sleep in an actual bed.”
No one argues. In fact, I think Ty and Ronin look relieved that someone's made the call. We should have tapped out hours ago.
Tynan drives, and I sit next to him, knowing my brother needs some twin time. He’s been withdrawing minute by minute.
