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“Are you in on this?”
“On what?” he snaps back, impatient.
“Antoin’s plan,” I say sourly, glaring at downtown Boston passing in a blur. “His pathetic attempt at a coup.”
Silence. I squeeze my eyes shut and grip the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger.Not you too, Don.
Eventually, his reply comes, quiet and stoic. “I’ll kill him myself.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Donnacha isn’t like Antoin. Never has been. He says what he means and shoots when he says he will. No deception, no lies. Just pure dedication to the Quinn name.
“Too late.”
He lets out a groan and mutters something laced with curse words.
“All right. We can sort this shit out later. Where’s your girl?”
My girl.It feels like an ax is swinging against my chest, chipping away at my heart. If I make it out of this alive, I’ll never forgive myself for the look on her face when she walked intoGatsby’s. Pure betrayal.
I drag a hard stare over to Cillian. “The Tunnels,” I say sourly.If this cunt is telling me the truth.Before Donnacha can show his surprise, I continue with, “Antoin was working with Bratnov and Marcus Murphy.”Yeah, we’ll unpick that fuck-fest later. “Go alone. We don’t know who of your men is compromised.” After a brief pause, I say, “Put Miguel on the line.”
Heavy footsteps, a car door slamming, and an engine starts. There’s a muffled exchange. “Lorcan,” A gruff voice says.
I take a deep breath and stiffen my jaw. I’ve never been one to sugarcoat shit. “Antoin betrayed us. He was working with Bratnov all along. Your father was caught in the crossfire.”
Despite the backdrop of skidding tires and honking horns, his silence is deafening. “I’m sorry man,” I say, dragging my knuckle over my beard. “Antoin’s dead, but I’ll make sure Bratnov and Murphy suffer slow deaths.”
When Miguel speaks, his voice is detached. “No. First, he raped and killed my sister. Now he is the reason my father is dead. Bratnov’s mine.”
Without another word, I hang up and focus on the road ahead.
He can have Bratnov.
It’s Murphy I want.
Poppy
I’ve been here before. This never-ending tunnel lined with the world’s most revered paintings.Mona Lisa.The Starry Night.The Girl with the Pearl Earring.
The last time I was here, I was desperate to reach the small door at the end. This time, the searing pain in my ankle and the bullet lodged in my thigh means I can’t run toward it. And I wouldn’t, even if I could.
I pull my knees up to my chest and squeeze my eyes shut and wait. Wait for the floorboards to give way, to reveal the burning fire that’s underneath.
I’m desperate to hear his voice.
Welcome to hell, I told you you’d be joining me here.
I’d give anything to be with him there.
A floorboard to the left of me falls, revealing the burning furnace underneath.
Soon, my love. I’ll be with you soon.
Another floorboard cracks and groans and falls into the fire below. With every board that tumbles away from me, I feel more at peace.
“Poppy.”
A small smile stretches across my lips. One more board left.
