Page 67 of Dirty Legacy

But I’m a boss at war and he’s my top soldier.

“We got a problem.” Deck doesn’t sound happy, which means it’s probably not the kind of problem that dies.

“What’s going on?”

“Lorcan Gallagher’s at the west salvage yard. He’s there in the open and he wants to talk.”

I grunt in surprise. Lorcan’s the middle brother. I figured I’d hear from Fergus, but his approach was probably the attack the other night.

“I’ll be over in ten. Keep an eye on him.”

“You want me to secure the perimeter?”

“Do what you can without spooking him.”

“We should just shoot him, boss. I could get a sniper in place⁠—“

“I want to hear what he has to say first.”

I hang up. Fucking Gallaghers. I gaze longingly at the hall, wishing I could go after Angie and make her understand⁠—

But Rowan’s right. I have to let my wife settle first before we can talk.

20

CONNOR

The west salvage yard still has bloodstains from the attack. I pause getting out of my armored G-Wagon. “Who was supposed to wash down this parking lot?”

Deck looks over at the stains. “Not sure. Want me to check?”

“No… no, it’s fine. Where’s Lorcan?”

“Waiting further in. Not sure how he got past the fences though.”

“Our security needs to be tightened.” I give him a meaningful look. Deck glowers back. “Let’s get this over with.”

I follow a squad of men through the main gates. The employees of this yard are nowhere to be seen. Deck must’ve cleared them out. I wonder what they think of all that dark muck on the ground, if they understand what it is and what it means.

There are ruined cars everywhere. They’re piled in the dozens, stacked like kindling, some ripped to shreds, some in surprisingly good shape. Engines are tossed like bricks; spare doors tumbling in drifts. Glass crunches underfoot. It’s a maze in here, and we make a few turns before a group of men appear at the end of a long alley, standing among the wrecks of vehicles.

Lorcan Gallagher’s a handsome man, especially compared to his brothers. He’s around my height, stubbled cheeks and chin, wearing a decent suit and that ever-present smile. He reminds me of a banker or a salesman. Except all he’s got to sell is death. Behind him, several Gallagher thugs lurk, looking meaner than snakes.

I stop fifty paces back.

“Glad you came,” Lorcan calls, waving a friendly hand. “I know, it’s not really my scene, but—“ His nose wrinkles happily. “I figured you’d be more comfortable on home turf.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“We did enough talking the other night. There’s still dried blood on the ground from that conversation.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Come on, Connor, did you think this was going to be easy? It’s a war. Someone’s going to get killed. It’s what happened. Honestly, what did you expect?”

“I’ll ask again, why are you here, Lorcan?”

“Because it’s a war, and wars are expensive.” He comes closer. Deck reacts by reaching for a gun, which makes his men overreact and grab for theirs, and Lorcan has to physically shove one back. “Sorry, sorry, seems like everyone’s twitchy right now.”