“After last night?” He laughs, a thin, jittery sound. “News travels, Cat. You missed. Twice. Donal’s in the city and Tiernan’s on my ass.”
Ice crawls up my spine and settles at the base of my skull. I keep my mouth shut, because talking gives men like Sean ideas.
He steps in and kicks the door shut with his heel, casual as an old friend. The man is anything but casual. His right hand is in his pocket, and it isn’t because he’s cold.
“Careful,” I growl. “You walk toward me with that look, and you’re going to limp back out of here. If I decide you get to walk at all.”
He pulls his hand out, showing me his empty palm, but the other one stays where it is. “Relax. I’m not stupid.” His gaze flicks to my gun. “You’re not going to shoot me. If you were going to, you’d have done it already.”
“That’s the problem,” I mutter, and it sounds like something else I don’t want to examine.
He smirks. “Tiernan wants you on a leash, sweetie. He says you’re too soft in the middle. He thinks you need handling.”
Anger snaps bright and clean. “Open your mouth like that again, and I’ll redecorate the wall behind you in a nice crimson hue.”
He lifts both hands now in mock surrender, eyes gleaming. “Easy. I’m here to help you help us. You’re in trouble, Cat. The kind that ends at the bottom of a river. But there’s a way to fix it.”
I don’t breathe. “Speak.”
“Simple. You finish the job. Today.” He shrugs like he’s offering me a cigarette. “I tell Tiernan you’re back on track, and Donal stands down. You and me take a ride to Matteo’s fancy building, and we get you close. With that pretty face, you should have no problem walking right up to the guy. Then you do what you should’ve done on the roof.”
My thumb tightens on the backstrap. The room tilts, just a fraction. He thinks he can steer me; he thinks saying “you and me” makes him part of any plan that doesn’t end with me in a body bag.
“No.”
He blinks. “No?”
“I’m leaving.”
“To where? The ferry?” His smile shows too many teeth. “You think the Rossis won’t have eyes on every pier from here to Bayonne after what you just did? You shot atbothof their heirs.”
“Step away from the door, Murphy.”
He plants his shoulder against it and tips his chin toward my duffel. “You run now, and they’ll call it what it is. Desertion. You know what Tiernan, hell, even your brother, does to deserters.”
I do. I see it in flashes: the cellar stairs, the smell of bleach, a black bag like a punctuation mark. I keep the gun steady and my face cold. “What the hell do you want, Sean?”
He wets his lips, grinning. “I want a cut when you get the job done, and I want a favor when you’re back in. Most of all, I want to be the one who calls Donal to say I kept you from doing something stupid.”
A favor. A cut. Ownership dressed like aid.
“You want to live,” I translate.
“I want us both to.” He takes a slow step away from the door as if he’s being generous. “Put the bag down, sweetie. We go now. You take another shot and end this, and we’re golden.”
He believes it. He truly believes the path back is through Matteo’s chest. I wish it were that easy.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s a single buzz, the new burner coming alive with a number that used to mean safety. It was stupid, so stupid. I never should have done it, but I couldn’t help myself as I scrawled out those digits and slid them into Matteo’s pocket right before he passed out. I don’t check it. I can’t. And now, the sound is proof I waited a beat too long.
“Who’s that?” Sean tilts his head.
“None of your business.”
“Everything about you is my business today.” He nods at the gun. “If you were going to shoot me, you would’ve done it when I opened the door. You’re out of time, McKenna. Make the smart choice.”
The thing about smart choices is they usually look like surrender at first. I slide my trigger finger to the frame and lower the muzzle an inch. His shoulders loosen. Men see what they want to see.
“Fine,” I say, voice flat. “We’ll do it your way.”
