“No.”
“Excellent, yes, it is.” I turn back to my brother. “They can’t know we’re here, unless they followed from the West Village or…”
“Or someone let it be known you now own this place.”
“We should find out,” I say.
“We should.”
And with that, we all head out.
I don’t see the men Torin told me about. I don’t need to and I don’t look. If they’re here for me, they’ll follow. If they’re here to report on me, they’ll follow. Shit, even if they aren’t, they’ll still follow if they see us.
The last is coincidence… and I don’t believe in those.
“Who’s Sullivan?” Lucie asks casually, like I’m a nice guy she’s having a conversation with.
“O’Sullivan. And not your problem.”
“It is if I’m involved.” Lucie fixes me with a glare, but I see that post-sex softness in the depths.
“Babe, you’re involved because you’re mafia and you marriedme. Now behave and come on.”
I don’t know the place Seamus takes us to, but it’s dark and the food’s good and the conversation flows, and it’s easy to pick out O’Sullivan’s thugs. But one is more debonair than the others.
The most dangerous.
“Dinner’s done.” We pay up and head out. I turn to Seamus as Torin and Declan hover on either side of my bride. “Get her in the car and take her home.”
“And you?”
I pull out my cigarettes and light up, breathing the smoke deep. “Me? I don’t like waiting. Or games.”
“This is an O’Sullivan crew.”
“I know that, Seamus. Keep her safe.” With that, I turn, ignoring her shout, and head off down the street, turning into a dead-end alley where the dumpsters for the restaurants are kept. The other side are shops closed for the night.
My gun’s loaded, ready, but I don’t grab it. I lean against the wall and smoke, not looking when I hear the set of footsteps approach.
“Tell me where Osinov is, and I’ll let you live.”
EIGHTEEN
lucie
“Fuck, Lucie,”Declan hisses as I dart around Seamus and narrowly miss Declan’s grabbing hand. “Get back here. He’ll kill you. He’ll kill me.”
But still I run to where I lost sight of Callahan and stop short when Declan finally nabs me. It’s just him. I look back. The other two are tense, standing next to the limo.
“I’m serious, he will. Callahan’s my brother, but he’s a stone-cold killer. Don’t piss him off.”
“This is my life now, I want to see?—”
I take off once again when he loosens his grip and looks back at his brothers. Two men approach them and Declan’s clearly torn. But I hide in a doorway and he curses and heads back to the limo, his footsteps fading a little. There are people around, but it’s still quiet. This part of the street has storefronts that are closed down and apartment buildings, not much else.
A sudden shudder runs through me when I hear him.
I know I’m being stupid doing this, but I want to know. I need to know. I need… I need answers, and I’m about to step farther into view when the man about Callahan’s height speaks in heavily accented English.