Page 6 of Rake

The rage I felt in that moment is palpable even now. Does Sasha have anyone who felt that kind of rage on her behalf after she’d been beaten and left for dead?

It takes a concerted effort to push that thought away.

I spent the rest of the summer on the Vineyard, trying to convince my sister that Kieran was using her, but I’d been wrong about that. Wrong about Kieran’s intentions and wrong about their relationship. Not that I’d ever admit it.

But the whole episode did mean that the casino and its staff had been far out of my mind. And I was supposed to be keeping an eye on things.

My father laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Fix it, Finn. Or else.”

“Sure,” I say. “No problem. I took care of this, by the way.” I hand him the folder.

He looks at the liquor licenses. I’m not sure what I expect, but he tosses it on his desk, ignoring my existence. Clearly I’ve been dismissed. You’d think after years of being treated like this you’d get used to it—but it still rattles me.

It’s not the worst thing he’s done to me by far, though.

After leaving his office, I take a quick walk outside to clear my head. James Carney’s lectures mean nothing to me. He made it impossible for me to love him so long ago I can’t remember if I ever did. I’m not looking for his approval or his praise. His angry rants leave me numb at this point, waiting for the takeaway so I can do what I have to and move on.

He put me through hell, though, and I’ll be damned if I don’t take as much from him as he took from me. I’ll keep doing what it takes to squeeze him dry, but for that to happen, he has to keep having something that’s worth taking.

The smarter move is to let him think I’m giving him what he wants while finding ways to get what I need.

The cold air is refreshing, and I close my eyes for a minute. Usually the roar of the nearby highway traffic drowns all other sounds out, but it’s quiet right now, and I can hear the creak of the frozen ice of the Mystic River settling. It’s eerie and beautiful. I listen to its strange music for a few minutes and then head back inside.

I walk down to the security office, where Patrick waits to hear the details of my dressing down. He’s a nosy fucker, but so am I.

Besides, I’d rather he found out from me. Another thing you learn from being a Carney: controlling the narrative is power and optics are everything. So I lay out the details that I’m willing to share, and when I finish my tale of woe, he folds his massive forearms across his chest and fixes me with an appraising glance.

“Finn, you’ve always been able to get any woman you wanted.”

True, for better or for worse.

Silence stretches and I raise an eyebrow as his implication hits me.

“You think I should seduce the organizer?” I ask. After what this woman has been through at the hands of my father, is seducing her is even an option?

“Could be fun. Maybe she’s cute?” Patrick says neutrally.

Probably not after what Hamish did to her.

“Either way, that’d be one hell of a conquest.” Patrick leans back in his chair and I’m surprised it stays upright given his size. “Fucking legendary, man, even for you.”

It could be just the challenge I need right now. Patrick’s right—I’ve bedded more women than I can count, mostly for the fun of seeing if I could do it.

“This would be bigger than the time you fucked that city councilor’s wife and left her wet panties on his desk.”

“You think?” I run a hand over my chin. “Well, he was being very unreasonable about the kind of debauchery a casino would bring into the city. I just wanted him to know that, sadly, sin often lives closer to home than we’d like to admit.”

“Disgusting.” Patrick shakes his head. “You’re something else, bro. If you can fuck this union chick into doing your bidding, I’ll call our father Jimbo to his face.”

“And if I can’t?”

His face falls. “You’re going to have to hope Catriona gets arrested for solicitation. The only reason Dad hasn’t cut you off is because it’d be a bigger embarrassment to publicly disown you than letting you keep fucking around like some spoiled trust fund brat. Eventually that won’t be true.”

I was expecting some kind of counter-stakes, but point taken.

“You’re the smartest person I know, Finn,” Patrick begins.

“Smarter than Callan?”

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