“Leor,” Tiernan barked in Gaelic, his accent strong.Enough. His men immediately fell back—well one of them did. The other man eyed Marcos suspiciously before he slowly backed away to stand to the left of his boss.
“Good fight.” I nodded at Tiernan.
His gazed roamed over Marcos and Nico, before they flashed to mine. A small smirk pulled at his lips. “You too.” He held out a hand to me, clearly not upset about the knockout.
I shook his hand. “Sorry about the head.”
He laughed. “It was a good fight.”
I grinned and dropped his hand. “My president, Marcos Candella and my VP, Nico Gage.”
“My brother and second in command, Kierney Tiernan and my associate James McClintock.” Tiernan waved his arm out to the two men glaring back at us.
Marcos and Nico moved forward and shook Tiernan’s hand, then the hands of his men. “You guys with the IRA?”
Tiernan’s men bristled immediately while Tiernan growled. “Hell nah.” His Irish brogue thickening. “We don’t deal with those cunts.”
Marcos raised an eyebrow. “You have issues with them?”
“Let me guess, you run guns for them?” Tiernan asked, leaning forward.
Marcos nodded. “We might.”
Tiernan barked a laugh and shook his head. “We don’t have bad blood with Sullivan; we just don’t run in the same circles. He runs a tight ship and you should remember that. There’s a reason they call him the Butcher of Ireland. He’s not to be fucked with.”
Marcos nodded. “Yeah. I hear that.”
“I don’t care about your affiliation with Sullivan and his crew. I don’t fuck with him if I don’t have to.” Tiernan said, shifting on his chair.
“I hear you have information on Hillcrest,” Marcos said, changing the subject.
Tiernan smirked. “I hear you have a line on the coke trade.”
Marcos stared hard at Tiernan, not giving anything away. “I might.”
“And I might have information on Hillcrest,” Tiernan shot back.
I rolled my eyes. The fucking dick swinging contest in these negotiations always killed so much time. I normally wouldn’t interrupt my president in something like this, but time was of the essence here. “He said that Hillcrest has operations in Chicago. That he operates under the shell company Summit Holdings and that he knows locations of his operations.”
Tiernan doesn’t even look at me, like he wasn’t surprised that I gave my president the information he spilled on the mat freely.
“We agreed that after the fight we’d exchange information.” I glanced at Marcos.
He gave me a nod. “What are you looking regarding coke?”
“I need supply and delivery. We don’t have the manpower to transport at the moment.”
Marcos contemplated for a moment before he nodded, not even glancing at Nico. “I think we can help with that. We have a supplier that we handle distribution for.”
Tiernan smirked. “Sounds perfect.”
“What do you say we get out of here and have a drink? We operate out of Creekton.” Marcos nodded to the door as he spoke.
Tiernan grunted and stood up. “Yeah, give me a few. Give me your number and text me the address. We’ll meet you there.”
The exchanged phone numbers and Marcos texted over the address to Satan’s Palace, one of the club’s establishments—something Trick and Ransom had purchased on behalf of theclub. After we say our goodbyes, I shook Tiernan’s hand again. “Great fight.” He nodded at me.
“Yeah man, you too.”
