Page 14 of Dirty Legacy

I sacrifice for the strength of the clan.

But a small, selfish voice still screams in the back of my head: what about Angie?

“When?” I ask, my voice coming out distant. I take a long drink.

“Two months. You can take a few days to consider⁠—“

“I’ll do it.”

He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“We both know there isn’t a choice here.”

Declan nods and there’s real resignation in his expression. “You’re a good man, Connor. I’ve made a lot of mistakes as the boss of this clan over the years, but you’re not one of them.”

“Yeah, I hope not.” I knock back my glass. Thousand-dollar bourbon straight into my stomach. “When can I meet her?”

“A few days. I’ll arrange it with her father.”

“And the wedding?”

“Everything will be handled for you, don’t worry.”

“Now I know why Casey seemed off.”

Declan sighs, eyes flicking to the door. “She hates this part of the job.”

“Can’t blame her.”

“But you’re doing the right thing.”

“I know. The right thing still feels like shit sometimes.”

He nods and I know he understands better than almost anyone. “Go home, Connor, get some rest. If you have second thoughts⁠—“

“I won’t.” I walk to the door and open it. I pause, only for a second, thinking about Angie, but I have to let her go. She’s not in my life anymore. Not now, not ever. “Tell the family I said hello. I told Casey I’d stop back there and talk to the kids, but⁠—“

“No worries. She’ll understand.”

I leave the office and pause in the dark hallway. The sounds of Casey and Declan’s family echo toward me. A child’s laughter, their ten-year-old daughter Nora, and the younger one Siobhan, an eight-year-old menace. I close my eyes, hand braced against the wall. I see myself with Angie, our kids surrounding us, we’re in a warm and well-lit living room, the little ones are playing with each other and Angie’s leaning against my side, and that was never going to happen, this sick and stupid fantasy, and now it’s dust. I picture it all burning. I shove it down deep somewhere I won’t ever feel it again.

Sinead Gallagher is my future, whoever she is, and Angie’s nothing more than a girl who works for me now.

4

ANGIE

Six Weeks Later

There are certain things I’m really good at not thinking about.

Like those enormous Australian spiders. Or rabid dogs chasing me in the park. Or the way Rick snorts and grunts when his allergies are acting up.

Or how my period’s late. No, I don’t think about that, no way, no thanks.

I have bigger problems as I heft my grocery bags through the apartment building’s front door. The elevator’s broken yet again. I angle toward the stairs already preparing myself for an upward death march, purposefully not thinking, when I spot the landlord Dennis stalking toward me.

Ah, shit, that’s never good. I see Dennis once a month, when I hand over the check. Any other time, and it’s a very bad sign.