CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

JACK

I leave the courtyard, not entirely sure how that went. The fact that Maeve was safe now from my father was the biggest thing I could take away from it. I enter the corridor and I’m surprised when Maeve rounds the corner and nearly walks into me. She grips my shoulders, dragging me closer and fear grips me as her chocolate eyes hold mine.

“What’s wrong?”

“They are going to find out.” Her voice is too loud and I glance up to make sure we are alone. We are, but anyone could come around the corner.

I take her hand and push open the ladies’ bathroom door.

“Get out.” Two women stare at me and I don’t have the patience right now. One has half her lipstick on, the other shaking water from her fingers.

“Get the fuck out, now!” The one at the mirror grabs her handbag and ducks as she passes us, the other is a bit slower, she’s looking at Maeve. The moment they are out, I step into the bathroom still holding Maeve’s hand. I open all four doors to make sure we are alone before turning to Maeve.

“Why do you think that?”

“I heard your father talking to Shane. The guy who they think shot Cian, arrived at some pub.”

Fuck!

“Did you see where they went?” I’m asking while releasing Maeve’s hand. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I hit my father’s number.

“No.” Maeve shakes her head. “I came straight for you.” Her lip trembles. I reach out and touch her face. “It’s going to be okay.”

“John’s son was spotted at The Hen’s Nest pub. I’m on the way with Shane.” I want to scream into the phone at my father to keep Shane away from there.

“Who’s driving?”

“Me, of course.”

I’m nodding as I release Maeve’s face. “I’m on the way.”

I hang up. “I need you to stay with Dana.”

“He’s going to tell them he didn’t do it.” She’s panicking. I feel the panic rising in me too, but I need her to stay calm.

“It’s important right now that you return to the funeral.”

The door opens, and a woman freezes at the door as she takes me and Maeve in. “It’s closed. Get out.”

She steps out very fucking quickly.

“What are you going to do?” Maeve’s question is filled with worry. I take one moment and kiss her, pushing aside everything wrong about this moment—and dragging all that is right, forward.

“I won’t be long, and when I return we can have a drink.” I step back. “Go back to Dana. I won’t be long.”

Maeve hesitates but leaves the bathroom.

I take out my phone and ring Shay. He answers immediately. “I’m following them.”

“You left without me?” I hang up, not bothering to listen to his answer. The blond woman who had tried to enter only moments ago, jumps aside as I leave the bathroom, and return to the courtyard, taking a shortcut down a few steps that lead to the side of the building. I half run along the side, until I come out at the front of the hotel where my Range Rover is parked.

Every scenario is going through my mind now as I get into the jeep and start the engine. I tear down the road to Navan. It will take twenty minutes to get there, and they had a ten minute head start. A lot can happen in ten minutes. A lot can happen in ten seconds.

Shane will torture him first; he’ll want to hear how he shot Cian. If he keeps denying it, and admits to shooting Connor and Finn, it’s going to look suspicious. My foot’s already to the floor, and I can’t go any faster. I overtake every vehicle in front of me, but I’m not going fast enough.

My phone rings, and I answer it.

“They got him.” It’s Shay. “They are taking him to a Beech Mount industrial estate. Shane has a unit at the back, number 32.”

“Don’t let them question him,” I say. Knowing nothing is going to stop Shane, the only person who might have a chance is my father.

“I’ll do my best.” Shay hangs up this time.

I enter Navan. It’s taken me twelve minutes, which is impressive, but I don’t feel quick enough as I drive towards Beech Mount industrial estate. It’s filled mostly with large furniture outlets that are open for business. I have to slow down as every five meters is a speed bump. It’s frustrating, but I finally arrive at the unit and jump out.

Shay’s at the side door, and that’s not a good sign. I don’t ask all the questions that want to pour from me.

“Shane is questioning him.” Shay sounds as hopeless as I feel. Why was my father rung first? I had left word that I had to be called, but once again, no one would defy him. I needed to rectify that, so no one would ever defy me again.

John’s son is tied to a chair. He’s a fucking mess. Already I want to shoot him just to put him out of his misery. Shane’s using his face as a punching bag. My father is standing to the side, and glances at me as I enter.

Shane stops heaving, and roars into the man’s face. “Admit it.”

The man can’t even speak, and my father answers for him. “He denies shooting Cian, and also Connor.”

I sneer. “Of course he is.” I step closer, trying to make out his face. I can’t. I just know where his eyes should be, and his nose and mouth. I wouldn’t be able to identify this lump of flesh, if I didn’t know the structure of a face.

“I don’t think he can talk, Shane.” I step closer and the man’s head jerks up towards my voice. There is no way he can see me.

“He’s not lying.” Shane’s huffing as he turns to me.

Fear shoots through my body, and adrenaline has me ready.

“He shot Connor too, yet he’s denying that.” My father steps forward while speaking, but Shane can’t take his eyes off me.

“What happened to my son?” Shane’s demeanor sparks and collapses, and I no longer recognize any part of my uncle. He wants to rip me apart.

“That fucker shot him. Why are you looking at me?” I take a step towards Shane and allow him to see my clenched fists. “What the fuck do you want me to say?” My voice rises, my temper escalates, it’s been pushed by pure fear. He can’t find out, no matter what I have to do at this moment, I know he can’t find out. If it comes down to me or him, I’ll choose myself.

“Did you hurt my son?” He blinks, and it’s the sign that he’s in there behind the wall of pure and undiluted rage that propels him towards me.

I withdraw the gun from the band of my trousers. “Are you accusing me of killing Cian?” I say it, and hold the gun at Shane’s head.

“Jack.” The warning in my father’s voice doesn’t penetrate the panic I feel to keep this situation in control. To stop Shane from killing me. I know Shay is somewhere behind me, but I have no idea where he would stand if this gets messy.

“Cian was like a fucking brother to me.” My voice rises and I step closer to Shane who’s staring at me with a deadness in his eyes. “I would never fucking hurt him.”

The tip of the gun presses against Shane’s forehead, and I dig it in. Shane opens his arms wide, and looks directly into my eyes.

“Jack.” My father issues a second warning.

“I didn’t hurt Cian. That motherfucker did.”

Too many beats pass as Shane stares into my eyes. Finally Shane starts to deflate, and something close to shame fills his features as he drops his arms. I step back, and he turns to John’s son, and I see how his body grows tighter. He’s ready to ring the truth out of him even if it takes the man’s last breath. I’m all twisted and tight with a fear of him finding out. I move forward quickly and pull the trigger.

I don’t stop.

The sound roars through the wide-open space as I empty my gun in John’s son’s chest. I’m still pulling the trigger long after the bullets run out.

My finger relaxes, and I turn to Shane to find him looking at me. “For Cian,” I say.

Shane blinks, and one lone tear falls. He takes a final look at John’s son’s body before leaving the warehouse. He doesn’t say a word, and the moment the door closes, my knees grow weak, but I keep upright.

I’m still holding the gun. I’m still staring at the body, not allowing the thought that I pulled a gun on Shane to take over. My father steps up to me and places his hand on my shoulder. I look up, and I see something I have never seen before in his eyes. Pride. He’s proud of what I just did. I’m not. I shrug him off and put the gun away.

“Why did he shoot them?” I ask. Wanting to know why I just took a life.

“He was after you,” my father says. “It was revenge for me killing his father.”

I didn’t have to ask if he had killed his father. I want to ask why, but I’m tired.

“You knew he didn’t shoot Connor.” My father’s words are directed towards Shay. I’m still reeling from pulling a gun on Shane; it was a necessary evil that I hope I’d never have to do again.

“A while ago,” Shay’s voice is directly behind me and I turn around.

“You knew he didn’t shoot your father?” The man had been telling the truth. “So the only one he shot was Finn, but I was the target?” I ask my father.

He confirms with a nod of his head, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off Shay. “Why did you stay when your father told you it had nothing to do with us? It was a northerner who had shot him.”

Shay grins. “I kind of like it here, Uncle Liam.”

My father takes another step towards him. “Jack tells me you want to share equal control over the South and North of Ireland?”

I turn back to John’s son’s body. His head is slung back, his throat on full display. I want to feel a swell of guilt over taking his life, but I don’t. I feel guilt over pulling a gun on Shane, and making him believe that he was the wrong one, that I would never hurt his son or cover up his death.

“A panel of four, equal control. I think it could work,” Shay answers my father.

“It could. It could be great.” My father’s answer has me walking over to John’s son and untying him from the chair. His body hits the ground hard, getting Shay’s and my father’s attention.

“I thought you might want to be part of this conversation,” My father’s voice carries a note of annoyance.

I can’t stop the smile that takes over my lips. “I can listen and work at the same time. I think it could be great,” I say honestly, imagining an Ireland united. It might be in the criminal world, but it’s been divided for over a hundred years.

“I agreed to the terms with Jack,” My father lies.

Shay of course looks at me.

“Four chairs. One for me, you, my father, and a Murphy lad,” I say.

“So you didn’t agree to my terms.” Shay glances between me and my father.

“You must enter an arranged marriage. That is the terms.” My father fixes his cuffs like he has this in the bag.

I move along the side of the large room and grip a piece of the plastic sheeting that has been left there, no doubt for cleaning up bodies.

“What kind of cunt do you think I am?” Shay has balls.

I laugh as I drag the plastic back to the body. My father hasn’t met anyone like Shay. Shay has got to know that he could be digging his own grave, one shovel load at a time.

“That’s the terms, Shay, or you can ship yourself back up North, where you belong.”

I drop the plastic at my father’s tone. Shay looks ready to draw a weapon. Mine is empty but if he did pull a gun on my father, I wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him.

Shay looks at me, and I know he’s thinking about what he did for me, what I promised him in return.

“Do you have someone you want to marry?” I ask Shay, and kneel down, dragging the body onto the plastic.

“No, but that’s not the fucking point.”

I heave the body. He’s heavy, but I get him on.

“It is the fucking point. You either want in or you don’t.” I know I’m back tracking, but he has to see that there is no room for negotiating. He might accept it better from me than my father.

I wrap the plastic around the body. “You lied to me about your father.” I stop working and look up at Shay, feeling pissed over that. “What else have you lied about?”

“I only found out a few days ago and was already knee-deep in it.” He says and takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

“Well, I will let you two talk about it, and I’m looking forward to your answer, Shay. I can assume you can clean up?” My father asks, turning to me.

I nod and he leaves.

Shay lights up his cigarette.

“What is she like? A one-eyed gypsy or something.”

I’m glad that Shay’s mind is turning to his arranged marriage, even if it’s negative. He’s thinking about it, and that’s what’s important right now.

“I have no idea.” I don’t mention that she was meant for me. That wouldn’t sit right with Shay. He wouldn’t like anyone’s seconds.

“She’ll hardly be paraful looking?” He blows smoke into the air.

I straighten.” What does that mean?”

“Paraful?”

I nod.

“Like a stunner. A head-turner.”

“Would that matter to you?” I ask and point at the body. “Help me lift him.”

Shay throws the cigarette on the ground. “I won’t be with a gypsy.” He says, crushing the cigarette under his boot.

I grin.

So he’s considering it.

He picks up the butt, and puts it in his pocket before helping me.

“Out back.” I jut my chin towards the back of the warehouse.

“What age is she?”

“I don’t know.” I grin even as the weight of the dead body has me moving faster towards the door, wanting to get the body out of my hands.

I hold the body with one hand and push down on the handle. It’s still bright outside. A large silver bin is already open.

“On the count of three,” I say to Shay.

He doesn’t wait, but heaves the body into the bin, nearly making me drop it. The moment I’m free of it, I close the lid.

“Clean up will get rid of him later and tidy up the warehouse.” I tell Shay as we go back inside.

“I should have told you about my Da.”

I stop and nod. “Yeah, you should have.”

“I honestly didn’t think your Da knew, and I wanted to stay. I really want to unite us all.”

“If we are going to work together, there can’t be any lies. No secrets.”

Shay nods. “Aye.”

“My father sent Cian after Maeve. He wanted her out of the picture,” I admit.

“Honestly, it doesn’t surprise me.” There is silence as we stand looking at each other.

“You’re not like him, Jack.”

I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.

“You’re a cunt. But not a cunt like him.”

I grin at Shay, only he can use a word like that and get away with it.

“We need to get back.” We had been gone too long.

“What you did with Shane. It had to be done. I can’t imagine it being easy.”

I appreciated Shay’s words, but I didn’t need either of us going soft.

“Taking a life is never easy. Even the ones we love.” It’s a warning, one I hope I will never have to use.

Shay nods again. “Aye.” A flash of irritation in his dark eyes has me wanting us to leave this behind and start fresh.

“It’s all behind us now. We can move forward.” We leave the warehouse and I pull the door behind us.

“So are you going to get married?” I ask him.

He lights another cigarette. “I’ll think about it.”

“What if she’s as ugly as a dog’s ass?”

“Then you and your father can fuck right off.”

I laugh as I get into the jeep but roll down the window. “See you back at the hotel. We could have a drink.”

Shay grins. “An Chlann.”

His words have me starting the engine. “An Chlann,” I repeat back, because that’s what we are. A family who will rise together and die together.

Family isn’t what keeps us O’Reagan’s side by side; it’s the lies and secrets that’s like glue, that ties us all tightly together.

“An Chlann.”