Page 21 of Bargain with the Irish Devil
For fuck’s sake. “What fucking move exactly? He was in Seamus’s building because Seamus was dumb enough to rent to him, and it’s smack dab in the middle of Sabatini territory. The guy hit Outfit property only.”
“I want more guns.” He slams his hand on the table and pushes upfrom his chair to stand over me. Both hands are on the table, aggression in every bone in his body.
The other men in the room inhale fast, and no one breathes.
Tommy Anderson has long been a pain in my ass. His da and mine were cousins. He’s still pissed I took over for my da. What really hit his pride was that I didn’t take over for my da because it was expected—I was voted on by those at the top. The belief was that with my economics degree, I could work magic on our income.
Our money had been dwindling since the early 90’s. The Good Friday Agreement wasn’t signed because of a true desire to end the conflict. It’s because the IRA was running out of money.
They fucked up and got in deep with the cartels out of South America. All the money made was supposed to go to fund the IRA for weapons and living. For years, money was made off liquor, gambling, and loan sharking. All fine and respectable ways of making money.
Until we started to get squeezed harder and harder by the cops. When they went after the Italian mafia, they indirectly caught our men, and business was lost.
We were never to touch coke. It was an edict from decades ago. But desperate times and all that shit. The half a ton of coke went missing.
No one ever found out if it was the cartel, someone in the IRA, or even a third party. The coke was supposedly on a tanker bound for the US for us to distribute in Chicago and Boston. But the boat never made it to the dock in Boston. It was never found. That single fuckup reverberated for a decade—until the IRA was dead broke. They signed the peace agreement to cover up our coffers were too empty to keep fighting.
What enraged Tommy the most was that I did turn things around. Many of the changes were small enough that most didn’t feel them. The few big enough to impact deeply were made to Tommy’s business. He’s never forgiven me since.
“Sit down.” I grind the words out.
He doesn’t move for thirty seconds too long. When he finally does, sitting on the edge of his chair. I meet his angry eyes.
“Now is not the time for you or any of us to step into this shit. The Serbians torture and kill for fun. They don’t care about us. You go around waving guns in their faces, and they’ll kill you and everyone you’ve ever known. With two teenage girls who put their entire lives on social media, your family won’t be hard to find. They won’t do it with a bullet, quick and final. They’ll take their time and make you watch.”
Face flushed, he drops his eyes from mine.
“Declan isn’t wrong, Tommy. The only thing us getting involved in this will get us is blood on us. Declan believes in Tony and Dominic Sabatini and the Outfit. I’m more inclined to trust in the Bratva. The Levins are ruthless, bloody bastards. The Serbians don’t give a fuck about us, and we need to keep it that way.” James, our shared uncle, is firm.
“Anyone else have something to say?” I ask the other men in the room. There is Ryan and two others, all here to protect and support our interests and launder our money before sending it to Ireland.
No one says a word.
“On your own heads, be it,” Tommy mutters as he gets up and slams the door on his way out of the room.
“If there’s nothing else.” I nod to the door.
Everyone files out but James. He takes the seat in front of my desk again.
“I don’t trust him anymore. He’s itching for a fight. Against me, the Serbians, anyone willing to go up against him.” I meet his eyes head-on.
James sighs and nods. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately.”
“You know exactly what the problem is.” I’m not going to let him ignore it.
“I can’t tell him who he can fuck.”
“You can when she’s feeding him coke and pumping him for money. Colm saw her at the store downtown, shopping like she had no limit. Tommy is paying for the two girls to be in private school and his wife’s flights to Ireland every few months—flights she makes a point to tell everyone are only ever first class. Don’t tell me he can keep up with the amount of money coming out on top of a working girl who probably still charges him every time she fucks him.” We had this discussion when word got out Tommy was fucking a new girl in the building.
“What do you want me to do, Declan?”
“I want the girl dead. Cut off the need for money, limit it to just the coke, and force his ass off it.”
James shakes his head. “Fuck, Coleen and Seamus yesterday and Sara today.”
Sighing, I close my eyes. I don’t like death. It gets messy, and violence should always be the last option. But I also don’t hide from it. If it protects us in the long run, then it will happen. “Look, if I thought it was as simple as throwing money at her and sendingher on her way, I would do it. I talked to Maeve last week. Sara is a greedy, grasping nut job. She’s glad Sara is out of the building and doesn’t want her back.”
Maeve runs the girls in the building as far as keeping them clean and maintaining order among them.
