Page 18 of The Celtic Resolution
“Bastard,” she snarls.
“Wait! Please, wait, it's not what you think!” I beg quickly, throwing both my hands up as if they can do anything to protect against an incoming bullet. “Human trafficking!”
She hesitates, her brows lifting. “Wh… Excuse me?”
“I… listen, I was in prison, alright? And while I was in there, the Triads helped me so I kinda sorta owe them. But I also heard them talking a lot about the black market and human trafficking while also using my father’s name as if it were some kind ofcurrency, okay?” The words pour from me like vomit, jumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to escape before this woman ends my life. “So when I got out, I started looking into things because I think someone is trying to frame him and whoever that is clearly has big plans for what will happen when he falls. I’ve been tracking some missing shipments, some drugs and guns that have vanished off our books with no trace. That’s all! That’s why I was there last night, because that warehouse had three missing drug piles and I didn’t know you were Irish! I’m trying to get in with the Triad and they called me and asked me to kill someone, that’s it!”
The gun clicks and I screw up my eyes waiting for the inevitable shot.
It doesn’t come.
Suddenly, the weight of her foot is gone from my chest. I crack open one eye and she’s standing a few feet away, dismantling my weapon into pieces and tossing it bit by bit into the nearby trash can.
Holy shit.
“I don’t know if I’m more amused that you just screamed human trafficking at me or that you spilled everything so quickly.”
“How else was I going to get you to not shoot me?” I reply with a burst of quiet, nervous laughter. Climbing slowly to my feet, I don’t take my eyes off her. “So… does this mean we’re at a truce?”
“My name is Saoirse, by the way,” she says, tossing the last of my gun into the trash and turning to face me. “Since you’re in the habit of trying to kill people you don’t know. Get a name next time.”
“What can I say, it’s been a while. Back then, a picture was enough.”
She snorts softly and rubs her knuckles against her left temple. “You think someone is trying to frame your father?”
“I’m certain.”
She nods slowly. “We’re looking for the same thing, to an extent. Tell me more about this human trafficking?”
“The Triad have their fingers in a lot of honey pots. I heard a bunch of talk about black market dolls. That Del Prete was supplyingandbuying. I thought it was drugs at first until I made a friend and they told medollsis slang for people. And my father, he wouldneverbe involved in such garbage. So I think someone is using his name for clout and power to do something really fucking shady. All I have to go on is?—”
“Missing drugs and guns,” she finishes for me. “Hmm.”
“So we’re after the same thing?”
“I…” Her eyes meet mine and while the distrust is clear, she nods. “I’ve been looking into a few things and they might be connected, yeah.”
“Well, why don’t we work together?”
“Because you tried to kill me,” she snaps.
“And you nearly shot me, so I’d say we’re even.”
Her gaze lingers on me for a long minute and when she sighs, it seems to deflate her a little. “If our situations are connected, then maybe it would be wise. If trafficking is resurfacing, I need to make sure there isn’t a single Irish root connected to this mess.”
“Soooo…” I wander closer and smirk softly. “We work together?”
Saoirse’s eyes narrow and her button nose wrinkles upward. “Temporarily. Fine. But only to end this as quickly as possible before these rumors damage more than your balls.” She winces. “And my ribs.”
So I did hurt her. Shit. Why do I feel as bad as when I pushed Mary on the swing and she flipped off like a limp fish?
“So, we’re good?”
She briefly glares at me. “We’re wobbly, but let me make one thing clear, Bruno. If you try to fuck me over or I get even a singlehintthat you’re up to something I don’t like? I’ll kill you. And I’ll be smiling as I do it.”
8
SAOIRSE
