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Chapter 53

Liam

I need two men with me on this mission. I take Rabbit and Gus.

About a week after I beat the shit out of Connor, Rabbit approached me. Told me he’d broken things off with his girl at Northwestern. I could tell he wanted to ask me not to pummel his friend again, but he didn’t. Good lad.

Peter confirmed that none of the boys are leaving the house for nightly walks anymore. Rabbit sacrificed his personal life to be an O’Sullivan man. He’d been traveling a two-hour round trip every night to see that girl. She meant something to him.

The kid understands what this life requires. Taking him on this mission is my recognition of that.

I chose Gus because he’s proven himself too. After that fuckup with Brioni’s driving lessons, he’s been fully dedicated to her safety. And guard duty, even when the person you’re protecting is the kindest soul in the world, gets repetitive.

I inform both men the mission is top secret. Not even Brady knows about this one. My brother tells his wife too much, and Cora talks to Brioni.

Brioni can never find out about this.

As Gus flies our private jet to Columbus, I double-check that all our arrangements are in place. Rabbit spends most of the hour-long flight walking up and down the plane, swinging his arms and legs like he’s limbering up.

The kid’s nervous, which is understandable. I’ve given him one hell of a task.

After we drop Rabbit off at his post, I drive the panel van back around the block. Our contact provided us with a refitted plumber’s van. The company name is still painted on the side, but the back’s cleared out for interrogation.

Gus and I sit in silence as we wait for our quarry. It doesn’t take long. Our target keeps to his predictable schedule. Leaving on his lunch break, the bank manager takes his usual route from work to a motel on the edge of town. His mistress is waiting. But she won’t get to see him today.

As his silver Benz passes us, I pull the van out onto the road behind him. There are a few other cars out on the icy roads, but not many this far from the city center.

Through my earpiece, I inform Rabbit that our target’s approaching, and then I count him down.

“Three… two… one.”

Rabbit steps into the road in front of the Benz. He does it perfectly, nice and visible, putting himself directly in harm’s way because I told him to. Loyal kid.

The Benz swerves into a telephone pole.

Within seconds, Gus and Rabbit have the bank manager hooded and tied up in the back of the van. I drive us further out of town, then give Gus the go-ahead.

When he takes off the man’s hood, there’s the usual blubbering and panicked questions, which Gus silences with a punch to the jaw. Then Gus tells the bank manager what we expect of him.

It should be me back there doing the talking. But I’m too recognizable, and this business arrangement can’t be set up from behind a mask. This man needs to see that we’re legitimate, and that what we’re funding is legitimate too.

A few months back, Harrison’s mam applied to a bank for startup money to open her own nonprofit. A domestic violence shelter here in Columbus. This is the man who denied her application.

It was easy enough to figure out why Harrison’s mam wanted to open a DV shelter. Her son was a monster. Stands to reason her husband was too. While he was alive, she ended up in the hospital four times. All brutal “accidents.” She didn’t mention anything about it in her application interview, but she shouldn’t have to.

This fucker in the back of the van should’ve recognized a good cause.

Gus explains the situation to the bank manager in standard Gus form. As few words as possible. This man will approve the loan, and tomorrow he’ll find a new account opened with even more funding in it. All of it will go to Harrison’s mam’s shelter. She’ll need a business manager for the place, and so this banker will set her up with our contact.

None of it can be traced back to us O’Sullivans. The funding’s being channeled through one of our shell corporations, and our contact here understands the importance of silence.

I’m not doing this for the glory.

I keep my face forward, out of the banker’s sight as I drive us through the suburbs. When we arrive at his McMansion, I’m pleased to see his wife’s Cadillac in the driveway. He’ll have an interesting time explaining why he’s home in the middle of the day.

Together, Gus and Rabbit toss the man out of the van’s side door. He falls on his ass in the snow.

“Wait!” he shouts before Gus closes the door. “Your contact—how will I know him?”