Page 6 of Black Wedding

While I have her finally doing as she is told, I don’t waste any more time. Opening my phone again that had long since gone into standby mode due to lack of use, I quickly dial the number that had been displayed. This is a new phone, so I know he wont recognise the number. Initially, I was worried this might prevent him from picking up, but I need not have worried. After just two rings the distinct Irish twang of Vernon O’Keenan bellows through the phone.

“Who is this?!” he barks, a pleasure as always. Don’t be fooled. He isn’t answering like this out of concern for Bree, this is his usual manner. Hell, even Bree rolls her eyes at his lack of polite pleasantries. “It’s Liam Doughty,” I say calmly. I hear a rustle at the other end of the phone followed by lots of swearing. The echoes and different regions of accents tell me that not only am I on speakerphone, but Vernon is not alone. Most likely, he’s surrounded by all his closest men. All of which are now cowering in fear over just my name, but I can also hear the shock in Vernon’s voice. He thought I had just left it, forgotten all about what he owes me, but he couldn’t be more wrong. I was biding my time, planning, making sure my plan was perfect. Waiting for the perfect moment. Now is that time.

“Liam? I-I don’t understand. It’s y-you? Y-you...you have my Bree?” he asks, his stutter giving away how scared he is.

Her father’s reaction obviously has an effect on Bree because I see her physically gulp and start to fidget in the bed, but the real change is in her silver eyes. Before when she looked at me fight and anger laced her gaze, but now her eyes are wide, distrusting, and even a little scared. She obviously knows what it takes to scare Vernon, and since he is trembling at the very sound of my voice and name, she is right to view me suspiciously. After all, she has no idea who I really am.

“I do. Who else do you think would be capable, or have the balls, to break into your house, pass all your security, walk right up to your daughter’s room, and take her. Fuck, if I was a different person I could have put a bullet in her pretty little brain while she slept, but I didn’t. I’ve not harmed her at all, but believe me when I say that will change,” I spit, as my knuckles turn white from gripping the dagger so tightly. I can’t bring myself to look at Bree. Just the idea of hurting her sounds alien to me. Luckily, Vernon doesn’t know that.

My family, if you can call it that, are Irish. We were raised to know who the O’Keenan Family was. Patrick may be an old man, but he wasn’t ready to hand over the reins completely yet. Besides, he had five boys and didn’t know which, if any, he trusted with not only his, but generations of life’s work. He had spent a long time expanding his Family’s reach worldwide and it would take someone as smart and ruthless as Patrick to continue.

Vernon was the eldest, who Patrick moved to run the London branch. Neil, his second eldest, is by his side constantly, yet still struggles to pick up how to run a business or think on his own. Malachi, his middle boy, got blown up in a bomb attack on the O’Keenan estate years ago. Some say Mal was the favourite, but we all know that just a rumour Patrick started because he’s dead and doesn’t actually have to hand the position over to him.

Ellian, the second youngest, is in prison for planting the retaliation bomb. Sadly, not only was it in the wrong building, but it didn’t explode. Finally, there was Ewan. Patrick’s wife had longed for a girl and by the time Ewan came along, she ignored the fact he was born male and did girly stuff with him anyway.

This, according to Patrick, is what resulted in his youngest boy becoming a giant ‘poofter’ and that no ‘fag’ would ever run his company. Although, if rumour is to be believed, Neil is gay and wants nothing to do with his homophobic father either. Once Patrick has made his decision the son’s can do as they please. But until the old man hands over the reins they are under his control.

“Liam, let Brianna go. She has not and never will be part of my company!” he shouts, the fear obvious by the cracking of his voice as he tries to barter with me. I look over at Bree. I find it hard being in the same room and not looking at her. Her face has twisted from the serene look she had while she was sleeping peacefully. When I checked on her through the camera I installed, after she had just woken up, she was trying to discreetly shuffle and it almost looked like she was making herself comfortable in my bed. I had to look away to just get control of my thoughts and my cock. Poor thing keeps going up and down like a fucking yo-yo, like it can’t make up it’s damn mind. For some bizarre reason, I liked that she was comfy on my bed. I liked that she looked like she belonged there. She was the first woman to ever sleep in it.

Don’t get me wrong, I fuck women when I’m in the mood or not on a job, but I always make sure to go to a hotel or their house. There is a reason this is my sanctuary. I never planned on bringing her here. I had a safe house that we should be at right now. But from the minute she shot me and looked like an angel assassin, I’m sure I’ve been thinking more with my dick than my head. The plan had always been to tie her to a bed, I just couldn’t imagine it being any but mine. A light, gentle cough from next to me, drags me out of my dazed and confused state. Bree was discreetly trying to pull me out of my daydream, I gave her a small appreciative smile. What happens next has my cock standing to attention, almost trying to open my trousers himself, if he could.

I’m sure you’re wondering what made my cock behave like a teenage boy who has just discovered porn. All this feisty cretin in front of me has to do is smile. She obviously likes the way I’m smiling at her and she reciprocated. Fuck, her smile literally lights up the room. But the best bit is when she realises she is smiling at me and I was staring straight at her. She shut down, her face back to the impassive mask she has been wearing to show her lack of interest in the situation, except this time there’s a reddish, pink blush to her cheeks from embarrassment and I love it. I make a mental note to smile at her more often. I want to berate myself, but I’m so fucking past that now.

“I will let Bree go when you give me what is rightfully mine. You hired me to do a job, I did it, therefore I have a right to be paid. This is the final warning. Do not make me do something you will regret.” My voice is deep, threatening, and laced with the anger I feel over having to go this far. Normally clients don’t fuck with me. They know what I can do and that I’m the best at it, so they know not to test me. Vernon’s just an arrogant fuck on a power trip.

“Listen here, you fucking idiot, you have no idea who you are messing with here. You better not have hurt one hair on my Brianna’s head. Do you hear me? I want to talk to her,” he states and I look over at Bree, checking to see if she remembers the rules. I also glisten the knife slightly by turning it so the light hits it. Just a casual reminder of the threat. Not that it bothers her. She just rolls her eyes and looks towards the phone.

“Dad, it’s Bree. I’m fine okay, you don’t have to worry,” she says calmly to ensure her father calms down too.

“Brianna, baby, I have been so worried. Has that bastard touched you? Has he hurt you? If he has I will make him pay with his life. Where are you? What can you…” Before he got the chance to finish his incessant questioning, Bree cut him off. It’s a good job she did because there’s no way she could remember any more of the questions. He was talking so quickly in an Irish accent that I could barely make out what he was saying.

“Father, please stop. I’m fine. What the hell do you owe Liam? Why can’t you just give him what he’s asking for?” she asks, more in a demanding tone than I would expect a Daddy’s girl to use.

“Brianna, I’m so glad to hear that you are safe, darling. Don’t you worry about this nasty business between Liam and I. Daddy will sort it for you. I will bring you home safe,” he says condescendingly. Bree’s angry response is just as I anticipated. She balls her hands into fists and grinds her teeth in pure rage. I can’t help but feel for her, for her own father to underestimate her value in such a way infuriates me, so I can only imagine how she feels. I don’t even understand what happens next or why but I have an overwhelming desire to show her that I support her. Gently, I place the knife down between us and slowly trace a hand across her cheek before smiling at her. At first, she looks a bit startled by my touch, then she slowly leans into it. I want her to know I believe in her and that even though I don’t know her, I know enough to tell that she is a fighter, not some girly girl who cannot comprehend what our world is like.

Now, instead of pulling on the rope in anger, she pulls on them with her hands out flat as though she is reaching out to me. I almost forget that her father is on the phone and we are in a fucking kidnapping scenario. Whatever this is between us feels more like foreplay.

Her father clears his throat, pulling us out of our moment. Her posture returns rigid and her eyes narrow, like the last minute never really happened. I try to meet her gaze but she averts her eyes, looking at the duvet instead. Just as I sign in frustration at our lost moment, she addresses her father.

“Father, I am not a child. Why can’t you just give Liam what he says you owe him? I don’t hear you denying it. For fuck’s sake, do not piss about fighting this and risking my life, do you hear me?!” she shouts.

“Brianna, what have I told you about using language like that? You are a lady and not part of this world!” he shouts back and I quickly realise that this conversation has taken an abrupt wrong turn.

“Well, that’s enough family time. I think you have clearly underestimated your daughter. She has a lot more fight in her than you realise. And she is right, don’t waste time, effort, and money doing this the hard way. Give me the million that you owe me, for the job I actually did complete fully. We signed a contract, old man. Do not make me enforce the fine print. Will you pay me what is owed?” I ask sternly. I try to ignore the growl I let out while talking about his poor treatment of his daughter. I also don’t miss the confused yet grateful look she gives me.

“Fuck off, Liam. I cancelled the job and you know it. Now, you’re behaving like a spoiled toddler. Give me back my daughter or I will kill you!” he shouts and I can hear his rage through the phone. Not that I give a shit. I know I’ve got the upper hand. Not to mention the hand that’s now rested on Bree’s thigh and that has her gaze enraptured.

“You booked me to do a job, and just because you decide to call it off whilst I was doing it, is fucking irrelevant. Sadly, when I kill someone there is no going back. If you realise it was the wrong decision then that’s your problem. It’s black and white. Now, let’s talk about when you are going to pay me what I am owed,” I say rationally, laying things out simply. I expect Vernon to reply but before he gets the chance, Bree cuts him off.

“You’re an assassin?!” she screeches, her eyes bug out wide as she stares at me.

“Brianna, do not speak to that asshole.”

“Are you really telling me that you paid Liam to fucking murder someone, then you changed your mind, except you were too late? So instead of saying you made a mistake—oh, now I remember, Vernon fucking O’Keenan doesn’t make mistakes. So it must be Liam’s fault and you don’t reward incompetence. Is that seriously what’s happening here?” she seethes, stunning us both into a moment of silence. I now understand how she felt when I stood up for her. It makes me feel fucking indestructible.

“It’s not like that, Bree. I informed Liam I no longer wished to go through with the assassination. This is completely fucking unprofessional. I will find him, and I will rescue you. So don’t worry too much, baby girl,” he explains and I feel my hands grip her thigh tighter as her father disrespects us both.

“I did not find out in time. You left me a fucking voicemail just five minutes before I was due to pull the trigger. I was already in position, prepared, and part of that professionalism means not having my fucking phone on as a distraction. This is a fucking ridiculous situation that we have ended up in, and don’t think I won’t take it as far as is needed,” I slow down my words to enunciate clearer exactly what I mean and how much he should take what I’m saying personally. Except, I can feel that this is spiralling.

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