The Ruthless

by J Bree

  Jesus.

  I nod and do as he says then I strip Aodhan down to his boxers. It’s difficult with him as a dead weight but when it’s done, I grab a bucket and then tuck the comforter around him.

  I head into the shower to clean away what I can of this night. I don’t want to, but I stand there under the stream of water and sob. I sob because Aodhan has so few people left who he trusts, so little family, and he had to let Jack go. I cry because Jack guarded me with such respectful care, coming to my aid without question because I was his cousin’s girl.

  I cry because he hugged me before we went in, like he knew it was the last chance he had to.

  And then when I step out of the shower, pressing the towel to my face and breathing in the clean scent, I cry because I have to call Harley and tell him.

  Even though I have pajamas here, I pull one of Aodhan’s shirts and a pair of his sweatpants on. I grab my phone and then I crawl into the bed, trying not to rock him too much.

  I don’t want him to wake up and see the mess I’m in. I don’t want him to put aside his grief because I’m splitting fucking open and spilling out everywhere.

  I’m going to be strong for him tomorrow.

  Illi called. I’m coming home.

  I glance over at Aodhan but he’s still snoring, so I take a chance and hit dial on Harley’s number.

  “I’m coming home, Floss.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I should have just had him taken care of earlier. Harley—“

  “Stop it. I know you, Floss, I know you did everything you could—“

  “I didn’t though! I could have stopped it, I could have—“

  “What? What could you have done in a warehouse packed full of Mounties and Twelve members? You had Illi and Aodhan as backup, that’s it, Aves, what could you have done about it?”

  The words stick in my throat, the fight in me fizzling out until all that is left is the sobbing. Harley, the man who just lost his cousin, stays on the line with me for over an hour while he coaxes me out of my breakdown. He quietly and patiently talks me down until I can breathe again.

  I fall asleep to the sound of his voice.

  Aodhan sleeps until the afternoon, finally getting up and taking a shower when I agree to cook him a greasy breakfast to soak up his hangover.

  Illi and Lips both spend the day messaging me, checking in on us both. I convince Lips to stay away, but only because I don’t want anyone bothering Aodhan until he’s ready to face the world again.

  He looks like shit when he sits down at the breakfast bar to eat.

  I make us both coffees but he doesn’t touch his, just eats and then climbs back into bed. I hand him some aspirin and then I leave him the hell alone so he can wallow and process by himself.

  I stare at the wall instead.

  The photos I’d brought over are still pinned up there, and I make myself a second coffee to sit and stare at them for a minute.

  There are too many unknowns up there. There are too many things where we’re waiting on someone else to show their hand, and I’m ready to do what I know needs to be done, not what’s right.

  Fuck what’s right.

  I want Amanda Donnelley dead. And Grimm Graves, the entire fucking perverted Crawford family. I want to wipe the board clean and start over. I want to flush out the turncoat Twelve members to make sure they never come after us again.

  I never want to see Luca again.

  I take notes on my phone, saved in a highly encrypted file, of all of the leads that I’ll be looking into. I don’t just stick to the main issues, I delve into every little part of each person’s life and pick through everything that could help me.

  By the third cup of coffee, Aodhan finally resurfaces again, his face blank but his eyes are bleary. He looks tired but that bone-weary type of exhausted that doesn’t come from lack of sleep.

  It comes from losing your best friend.

  “Do you want some coffee? Pancakes? A steak?”

  He huffs and stretches until his back cracks and pops. “Do we even have a steak in the fridge? I’m fine, Queenie. I need a shower and a shave, then I might be human again.”

  He stumbles off to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. Everything about him is muted, deflated, and just quiet. I get it and I’m not expecting anything at all from him, but it’s still fucking heartbreaking. I would do anything, anything, to go back in time and take the Bear out before he could write that fucking list of his.

  I hope he got thrown in a tub of acid.

  I need to ask about that.

  There’s not much else I can do with the pictures and boxes of information I have here, so I pull myself up off of the floor and wash my coffee cup. Then I wipe down every last surface area in the kitchen, sweep, mop, and wipe over the glass on the oven door.

  When the shower finally shuts off, I peel the rubber gloves off of my hands and take a seat on the mattress to wait for him. I feel… lost. Like I’m waiting around with nothing to do, but with a mind that won’t stop spinning until I think I’m going to pass the hell out. I can’t leave here and get back to work, or tear my house apart to quiet the storm brewing in my head, but I also can’t stay here and slowly but surely go insane.

  Is this what grief feels like? I’ve never had to grieve someone like this. The only person I really cared about who died was my mother and I was a child… and also terrified because I knew my father had done it and he immediately began his psychological warfare on Ash and I.

  I didn’t have the time or the maturity to grieve.

  The bathroom door opens and interrupts the spiraling panic building in my brain. Aodhan is cleanly shaven and fully dressed, but he still looks absolutely wrecked.

  I smile sadly at him and he drops down onto the mattress next to me, his fingers threading through mine. “I’ve gotta go see the family. Cian and Patrick need to be told in person and we need to decide where we’re burying him.”

  I nod and run my fingers through his hair, pushing it back and out of his eyes. It’s all messy and unruly from the shower, and he hasn’t bothered taming it.

  I don’t blame him.

  “I’m going to head home for a few hours. There’s some files there I need and I need to… clean. I need to organize for a few hours.”

  He nods, his eyes drifting over to the window-slash-door. “I’ll drive you home, see you in safe. I’ll come stay with you tonight if I can. I don’t know how this is going to go down; I might take a leaf out of Illi’s book and just get them both fucking wasted.”

  I smile ruefully because, well, we both survived the night thanks to that tactic. I was able to focus on Aodhan and he could focus on not focusing, so clearly, there’s a method to that madness.

  “How old are his brothers? How old was Jack?” My voice breaks saying his name, but I say it anyway.

  I’m not going to let him fade away.

  “Twenty-one. He was six months younger than me. Cian is eighteen and Patrick is seventeen. They’ve both been working for the family, doing what they can to get us back on our feet. Cian is seeing a girl from the slums; he’s been trying to get her off of the streets and staying with us, but she’s worried about the O’Cronin reputation. Makes sense, she’s too street smart to just listen to some guy she’s messing around with. Patrick is… wild. He’s been dying to come to parties at the docks but Jack put his foot down about it. I think he was worried about him getting his drink spiked and stolen out from under us.”

  I giggle because it’s all painfully sweet. “So Patrick is too charming for his own good? Noted.”

  He smirks and blows out a breath. “He’s the spitting image of Uncle Éibhear. Too pretty to be left alone for long and he knows it, too. I keep waiting for the day some angry pops will show up with a shotgun because he’s been bed-hopping.”

  I cackle, because he sounds like some old man talking about his grandkids, but I guess that’s what it’s like being the head of your family.

  “What was
Amara like? What was Jack like when they were together?” I whisper, and he slumps down on the bed. I stretch out next to him like a cat, cuddling up close to listen to him, to honor his blood with their stories.

  That’s how they live on.

  “Amara was… she was terrified of our family. She lived two streets over from us when we were kids, and Jack was fucking besotted by her. Fuck, he’d follow her around school and the streets like a lost little puppy. She hated him. Fucking hated him… until she didn’t and then he lost his shit because we all knew it wasn’t safe to bring a girl home. Not unless she was Irish and from a family that our fathers did business with. So we kept her a secret. A year at high school together before he dropped out to work full-time, he never once let it slip to anyone about her.”

  I hum under my breath. “Harley knew about her though. I didn’t know you guys were close enough to tell him that.”

  He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Harley covered for him. He saw him sneaking home one night and when Colm started fucking screaming at him, Harley went and covered for him. I’m sure he just did it because he hated us all and wanted any excuse to punch one of the uncles, but Jack thanked him and told him. Not her name or any details at first but… eventually he did.”

  He presses his nose into my hair, breathes me in like it’ll help him get through the day. “Amara’s parents were broke. Too many kids to feed, and the second she finished high school, they kicked her out. I helped Jack get an apartment for her and he worked night and day to save for them both. She was going to beauty school during the day and doing all sorts of jobs whenever she could to keep them going. She was the best fucking thing to happen to him, and they took her from him… just to keep him from being happy.”

  I swallow, clearing my throat. “They deserved worse than they got. They deserved so much worse.”

  He nods and then chuckles, wiping a hand over his face. “Lips asked where we buried them. Said she wanted to dig them up to piss on them. Fuck, I’ve never been so shocked and impressed than I was by that fucking meeting. Harley and her were just joking around but that’s when I knew that she was perfect for him too. He never smiled and laughed like that back home.”

  I fake gag. “She totally wouldn’t. She’d ask Blaise to do it for her, he’d get a kick out of it. She used to hate it when Harley would pee in the bathroom while she was showering back at Hannaford.”

  He groans. “What kind of a fucking school is that? Harley was off having orgies and Michelin star meals while I was learning geography bullshit from a ninety-five year old veteran whose benefits were cut off. What an asshole.”

  I sit up again and then lean down to kiss him, just a peck because the sun is setting and he needs to go break the news to his family. His eyes stay closed for a second, like he’s holding onto this quiet moment desperately because the moment it’s over, the real world will filter in and he’ll have to face that Jack is gone. Then he opens his eyes and smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “Time to go home, Queenie.”

  The Impala is quiet the entire drive, my phone on silent in my pocket and Aodhan’s hand on my thigh like I’m a comfort to him. He leaves the radio off and just stares out into the night.

  “Let me know if you go anywhere tonight. Message me or something, I’ll still try to come home to you otherwise,” he murmurs as we pull up to my gate. I hand him the security sensor to get him through and then the moment we park, he gets out to walk me inside. It’s sweet, and he’s always done it, but I get the feeling he’s trying not to be overprotective right now.

  I couldn’t handle it. Not from him and not even right now while we’re all on high alert.

  “I just want to have an early night, I think. I’ll be up working in the morning, maybe just stay home for the night and focus on getting everyone through tonight. I’m a big girl, Aodhan. I’m not going to be a burden to you.”

  He side-eyes me and then tugs me into his arms, kissing me slow and deep just long enough that I know he means business. “You’re never a fucking burden, don’t start that shit with me, not while I don’t have time to prove to you just how wrong you are. Go to bed, get your rest and I’ll be back in the morning for whatever the hell you feel like cooking me. You’re everything to me, Queenie. You’re the light in my darkness right now.”

  I swallow and take a second to be brave. “I love you, Aodhan. Please come home safe to me.”

  His eyes squeeze shut and he leans down to press his forehead to mine. “I love you too, Avery Beaumont. Stay here and stay safe for me too because if I lose you, I’m going the same way as Jack, I swear to fucking God.”

  I nod and give him one last kiss before he leaves, my heart walking out the door with him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Another photo was posted on my door this morning. Can you meet with me, we need to talk about this.

  I stare down at the text from Atticus as I brush my teeth. There’s no way I can deal with seeing Luca right now, and I’m not sure Atticus will go anywhere without him after he’s just killed another member of the Twelve. I imagine his security has tripled at the very least, and he’ll have a lot to say about me driving anywhere alone.

  Haven? Come alone.

  A drive out to Haven will clear my head. I could take one of Ash’s Ferraris and make a real adventure out of it, let off some steam. I snort at myself for even thinking it, because if anything was going to push him over the edge to come home to me, touching his cars would be it.

  I’ll take the Rolls Royce.

  I’ll see you there.

  I take my time in getting ready. Whatever this information is that he has for me, I’ll deal with it and then I’m going to discuss dating him. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking it through, even when I was desperately trying not to, but something about losing Jack has made things a little clearer to me.

  I can’t live without Atticus, but Aodhan has become non-negotiable to me.

  He’s going to have to live with that. If anyone can convince two men who loathe the sight of each other to share a woman, it’s me. There doesn’t have to be schedules or negotiations, no actual threesomes or physically sharing. I can live between the two of them until we can reach an agreement.

  If three egos the size of Ash, Harley, and Blaise’s can figure it out, we can too.

  I call Lips. “I’m meeting with Atticus about some new information.”

  She groans. “Are you or is this a booty call? We have six shows left, Aves, and then Ash is going to be crawling all over your shit again. I was kind of hoping you’d be settled when we got back and we could just… tell him to get over it.”

  There’s a huff and then a grunt. Blaise is with her and she’s elbowed him for interrupting us. I roll my eyes, but if she trusts him to keep his mouth shut then I will to.

  “I’m going to tell him he has to accept how this is going. I’m sick of hearing his opinions on things; this is what we’re going to do.”

  Lips cackles and Blaise mutters, “How do you think that’s going to go? Let’s put money on it.”

  I’m going to snap at him, threaten his life and dick a little, but Lips snarks back, “She’s Avery fucking Beaumont. If she wants it, she’ll get it.”

  “Marry me, Mounty. Let’s just run away from these assholes and go be happy somewhere together. I’m thinking tropical, lots of cocktails, and a pool to float in.”

  She laughs at me, and there’s a scuffle down the line as Blaise retaliates in a way that I’m sure is sexual.

  Pervert.

  “If the two of you are about to fuck then I’m leaving. I’ve heard enough of that in the last two years for an entire lifetime, thank you very much.”

  Lips groans like I’m killing her and Blaise roars with laughter, probably at the blush on her cheeks, because she might be the most dangerous person in all of Mounts Bay, but she still squirms in embarrassment over the smallest things.

  It’s endearing and ridiculous.

&
nbsp; “So you’re meeting with Crawford and then coming home? Or his place? How long should I leave it before I send Illi in to rescue you from the Crow’s dungeon?”

  She says it with a teasing tone, but we both know it isn’t a joke. I swipe my lipstick over my lips, a red slash of color because men are all the same and spend half their time thinking about that color smearing over their dicks. “Forty-eight hours. Give me two days and then send Illi in. Aodhan… Aodhan went home to the O’Cronins to tell them about Jack and make some arrangements.”

  Lips hums softly. “Harley told me. Aodhan is going to wait until we’re back to bury him since we’re only a couple of weeks away. He argued with Harley to keep him here.”

  I smile softly. “He’s buying me more time to sort Atticus out. He’s too considerate sometimes.”

  She scoffs at me. “He’d fucking want to be because Atticus is the most arrogant, inconsiderate asshole I know and you need some fucking balance.”

  I roll my eyes. “If you come home just to climb in his window and slit his throat, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “Lies. I could shoot his entire house up and you’d only slap my wrist. Listen, you’re a big girl and you can handle your own shit. That’s why Harley backed down, he knows you’re your own person.”

  I smooth a hand down my dress and turn slightly in the mirror to assess everything one last time. “Ash might not recognize the sister he comes home to… I’ve done a lot of growing since you guys have been gone.”

  “People tend to do that when they finally get to stand on their own two feet.”

  When I hang up with her, I call Aodhan, but he doesn’t pick up so I send him a quick text to say where I’m going, that I love him and I’ll see him in a few days.

  He messages back without hesitation.

  The bar is so loud I missed your call, sorry Queenie. Be safe and call me or Illi for anything. I love you too.

  I slip on a pair of heels, grab my purse, and head out to the garage. I triple check the security feeds and make sure everything is all in order before I get into the Rolls Royce and then I check the glovebox for the spare gun Lips stashed in there for me.