If that’s how it’s got to be, fine, but the nerve of this guy to just brush me off…
With anger sizzling under my palms, I stand and stomp toward the door.
“Watch your back, Finn.” As I pass Brody, I mutter just to him. “You know this is bullshit. I’m not Nevan.”
Decades ago, Declan’s and Shane’s grandfathers—brothers Aidan and Nevan—fell out with each other. Nevan, the hothead, was our father’s grandfather. No surprise. The story goes that he shot the heir to one of the local Italian crime families during a negotiation. To avoid a full-blown war, Aidan agreed to pay the Italians an enormous sum of money, cut all ties to Nevan, and exile him from the city.
That’s how Nevan ended up in Los Angeles. And despite not being banished with him, our grandfather followed. He was young and loyal. Declan was born a few years later.
Blood isn’t everything that makes up a person.
I screwed up, but this isn’t all on me. Nino’s pulling some strings and blaming me for it all, just to start a full-blown war. I can’t help that. Once Eduardo died, it was going to happen either way. I’m an easy scapegoat.
I’m pissed that not even Brody had my back in there. Sure, Finn’s his boss—and basically his brother-in-law at this point—but whatever happened to fraternal loyalty?
Guess I really am on my own.
So be it.
As soon as my feet hit the brick steps outside the Gallagher estate, I call Declan to update him on the shit that just went sideways with Finn.
Declan is brusque but not surprised. At least I have an ally with him. Except he’s still all about the diamond. Says I need to focus on the only task that matters—that ridiculous chunk of compressed coal—and then he wants me back home in Los Angeles, where I belong.
I hesitate. Having Declan in my corner no longer feels right. This diamond nonsense… I want to tell him to shove it up his ass. When did we start stealing from each other for sport? I used to believe the Kings on both coasts were above that type of bullshit.
Last night, I chose Declan over Cat, and where did that get me?
Banished and stranded in the cold outside the Irish Kings headquarters. Hiding in Cat’s safehouse, hunted by her brother and a mob of Russians. My own brother can’t even look at me.
Obeying Declan again—blood and loyalty aside—seems like a catastrophic tactical mistake. Doing as he says has been mydefault mode for three decades, and a little voice in my head urges me toGrow the fuck up.
Grow up?
Does that mean I’m supposed to pick Cat?
Let my father go?
It’s nearly impossible to believe Caterina Ricci will still want me once she wades through the swamp of grief that’s pooling around her. She’ll start thinking rationally again soon enough. How will she feel about me then? How could she ever…love me?
Love?
Whoa, hold up. When did that word come into play?
I rub my chest, unable to deny that it fits.
Regardless, I’ve complicated her life in a horrible way.
Why would she ever choose me?
Can I choose her without knowing the answer to that question? Turn my back on my father on a notion or an impulse?
No part of me is wired that way.
My phone vibrates with a text from Brody.
I’m here for you, bro, if you need me.
My neck prickles as I glance back at the Gallagher estate. He hovers in one of the upper-story windows, and we acknowledge each other with slight nods.
