I’m not sure where I got the bravery from to push Butcher for an answer, but I’d finally pulled up my big girl panties and gone for something that I wanted.
I wasn’t naïve. I knew whatever took him away from us was most likely dangerous and probably not legal, but that wasn’t what I saw when I looked at him.
To me he was all that was good in this world, no matter what he did. I knew deep in my soul that he’d never hurt me or Mikayla, just like I knew he hurt people when he had to. But over the years I’d listened and I’d understood the complex man in a way I’m not sure anyone else had taken the time to do.
Was he hard? He absolutely was.
Was he capable of killing? For sure, but from the bits I’d overheard, he only ever went after those that hurt his family or did bad things to others.
He saw himself as a monster, and I saw him as a saviour.
Maybe I was broken, but I didn’t think so. When it came to Andy O’Shea—aka Butcher—I knew exactly what I was getting.
A man who put his family before himself, that would kill to protect the innocent.
A man that had killed for me—of that I had no doubt.
Someone that cared for my daughter like she was his own.
He was the man that I loved with all my heart and that I know loved me.
I just had to get him to see he was worth me taking a chance on.
CHAPTER 11
BUTCHER
Irode my bike to the meeting point in the early hours of the morning. When most were asleep in their beds sleeping the sleep of the innocent, the underbelly was doing their work.
Two sides of a coin. Those that worked long hard hours for a pittance and were happy doing that, then there were those that did a few hours work, made millions and weren’t happy. They always wanted more.
More money, more possessions. Greed and corruption ran the world, and it had for centuries. I didn’t imagine it would ever change. At least not in my lifetime.
The only thing I could do was keep my family safe, and I’d do that any way I had to.
I didn’t like it, but I was part of the underbelly, so I understood better than most that not all men that worked here were bad. Some had no choice, and others were doing their best to clean it up one soul at a time.
Aiden Kelly was such a man. If I had to say I had a friend, it was Aiden. Not that we advertised it. He was the eldest son of one of the wealthiest, most corrupt, sick men I’d ever known. I’d have sliced his throat long ago and dumped his body, but I also understood that Aiden had sisters in that house and he needed to be careful how he navigated change. He was making changes; I had no doubt. They were slow, but they were happening.
“We really need to find somewhere better to meet,” I mutter, stopping next to him.
“Getting soft Butcher,” he chuckles. “Not happy with our salubrious setting? The rats don’t mind.”
“Under a bridge is a fucking palace to the rats, Aide. Why the rush meeting?”
He sighs and swipes a hand over his face before rubbing tiredly at his eyes. Aiden Kelly is a big man, well over six feet of pure muscle that most days is clothed in specially made suits to fit his large frame. He’s got a head full of red hair that he keeps cut short, with a beard to match. I’d heard some of the women in my family swooning over him, so I assumed he was what women liked.
What did I know? To me he was Aiden, the man who sent me names of men that needed to be punished, and I considered the man a friend. In this world that didn’t happen often.
“The girls overheard my dad making plans to marry Kara off to the motorcycle club he wants to do business with.”
“The Queens Wraiths in Southampton?”
“You know them,” he turns to look at me. I’ve got his undivided attention now. Aiden didn’t fuck around when it came to his sisters.
“No” I shake my head. “Liam pointed them in our direction, but you know we don’t deal in the type of guns and ammunition they want. We’re strictly old school. Uncle Sean asked me to check into them this afternoon.
Pausing I scan the area. “I can’t find anything shady on them. They seem okay on the surface, but you know motorcycle clubs. They’re good at hiding shit, and how they treat their women differs from club to club.”
