Law of the Irish

by Ezra Dawn

  “Hopefully, this kid knows something that will help.”

  “Let’s hope so. If this bastard is resorting to making kids do his dirty work, then he needs to be taken out. Only a coward would send a boy when he should’ve sent a man.”

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  I’m sure I break a few traffic laws on the way back to Mickey’s place because I want to get there before the kid wakes up. Feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket as I pull into the garage, I park the SUV and lead Mickey to the elevator before grabbing the kid. Once we’re all safely inside the elevator, I pull my phone from my pocket, read the text, and try not to roll my eyes when I see it’s from my contact within the agency. The messages have been increasingly frequent. Seems I’ve been silent too long, and they want results now. As if two weeks is enough time to find something substantial. Not that I’d send it to them now even if I did find something. Especially, since I’ve realized that Mickey’s good deeds far outweigh anything bad that he’s done.

  After deleting the text, I look up from the phone to find Mickey holding the elevator doors open with a raised eyebrow. Shaking my head, I exit the elevator and head down the hall to his apartment where Callahan is waiting in the open door. Once inside, I deposit the kid in the chair Callahan has placed in the middle of a sheet of plastic. Callahan cuts the zip ties from the kid’s hands and feet and uses four new ties to bind them to the chair. Satisfied with his handiwork, Callahan rips the tape from the kid’s mouth, causing him to jump awake. When he sees the situation he’s in, his face goes pale and his eyes widen.

  Mickey grabs another chair from the kitchen, turns it around in front of the kid and straddles it. With a blank expression and a cold, calculating tone of voice, he says, “Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

  The kid looks fearful but still shakes his head. “I can’t. If I talk, he’ll kill me.”

  Mickey narrows his eyes at him and says, “He’s not the one you have to worry about now. You talk, we protect you. You don’t? We torture you until you do and if after that you still won’t talk? We’ll kill you and wait for the next idiot to come along. Your choice.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Guess we’ll do this the hard way then.”

  Mickey looks to Callahan and nods, giving him permission to do what he does next. After donning a pair of gloves, Callahan slips a set of brass knuckles onto his hand and punches the kid in the face causing him to spit blood. It’s going to be a long night. Guess I should make some coffee.

  With that thought in mind, I head into the kitchen and set the coffee maker to brew while trying to ignore the sounds coming from behind me. It brings back memories I don’t want to relive right now. Memories of a time when I spent three months in the hands of the enemy before I was rescued. I still have the scars though they’ve faded over the years. Despite the fading of the physical scars, my mental ones remain.

  As soon as the coffee is finished, I make myself a cup and prepare a second for Mickey. Once I’ve added a splash of Bailey’s to his, I carry both cups back into the living room and hand one to Mickey.

  He nods his thanks and takes a sip while I return to my position at his back. Sipping my coffee with one hand, I trace circles on the back of Mickey’s neck with the other.

  After a final punch to the gut, Callahan grabs a roll of cloth from the dining room table and spreads it out. When he returns holding what looks like a butcher knife and a pair of pliers, the kid screams. “Okay! Okay! I’ll talk.”

  Mickey holds up a hand, telling Callahan to wait with a simple gesture. “I’m listening.”

  “I can’t give you his name, but I can tell you that he’s someone close to you.”

  “How close?”

  “Inner circle close.”

  Mickey stands from his chair with an eerie calm. Taking the pliers from Callahan, Mickey pulls on a pair of leather gloves I didn’t know he had and uses the pliers to grip the kid’s fingernail. “You’re going to give me a name.”

  The kid shakes his head and Mickey says, “Wrong answer,” then yanks out his fingernail. Moving to the next finger, Mickey grips the nail with the pliers and says, “Give me a name.”

  The kid once again shakes his head and Mickey yanks out the second fingernail. He repeats the process until finally, on the pinky, the kid says, “Is é do chol ceathrar an ceann atá taobh thiar de gach rud. Tá sé ag iarraidh do phost. Luaigh mé anois sula ndéanann sé.”

  Mickey backs away from the kid, and I see the haunted expression on his face seconds before he closes it off and nods to Callahan. Pulling out a gun, Callahan screws a silencer onto the barrel before pointing it at the kid’s temple and firing. Once it’s done, Callahan pulls out his phone and sends one text, followed by another. When his phone dings with a reply, he turns to Mickey and says, “The cleaners will be here in half an hour.”

  “Do you think it’s true? What he said.”

  “He had no reason to lie, but regardless of whether it’s true or not, I’ve sent someone to check it out.”

  Mickey nods. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go to bed.” As he walks toward the hall, he stops in front of me, takes my hand and says, “Come with me.”

  I let him drag me down the hall to his room. After I close the door behind us, I lean against it and say, “I don’t understand what’s going on. What did the kid say?”

  Sighing, Mickey sits on the bed and runs his fingers through his hair. “I take it you don’t understand Gaelic.”

  “No. Was that the language he was speaking?”

  “It was.”

  “So, what did he say?”

  “It roughly translates to ‘your cousin is the one behind everything. He wants your position. Kill me now before he does.’ I’m not sure if what he said is true or not but, if it is then the situation is worse than I thought.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because when this whole thing started, I thought it was someone in the lower ranks pushing for a takeover. But now I know it’s someone closer and that person is family by blood. We grew up together, were inseparable right up until the day our fathers died. If the situation calls for it, I don’t think I’d be able to kill him because of that. It’s something he’s probably banking on and since he’s smart, he’ll wait until he can catch me or someone close to me off guard before he makes his move.”

  “So, we take the fight to him before he can catch us off guard.”

  A knock on the door cuts off his response and I move away from the door so whoever is on the other side can enter. Callahan steps into the room and says, “I just got a call from the guy I sent to your cousin’s place.”

  “And?”

  “And, he’s gone. Left in a hurry. I tried having the tech guy from the security team trace his cell phone, but it’s turned off.”

  “So, he’s gone dark.”

  “That would be my guess. He probably knew the kid would fail and decided to go into hiding on the off chance the kid told us everything. Which means, we’ll have to be on the lookout more than ever because he could come at us from anywhere at any time.”

  “Jesus, this is the worst-case scenario.”

  Callahan nods and says, “We’ll get through it somehow. We always do.”

  Mickey sighs and nods. “Thanks for letting me know. We’ll come up with some sort of plan in the morning. In the meantime, keep the tech guy on the lookout for him. If he pops up anywhere I want to know about it.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Callahan exits the room and I close the door behind him.

  “Come over here.”

  Turning away from the door, I walk over to the bed and stop in front of Mickey. He reaches around me and untucks my shirt, slipping his hands underneath it. “I need a distraction blondie and you’re going to give it to me. I don’t care if you ride me or fuck me but we’re doing it.”

  “What about your injury?”

  He grins at
me and says, “It won’t be a problem because you’ll be doing most of the work. Regardless of who tops, we’ll be doing this face to face, so I won’t be putting any weight on my shoulder.”

  “Okay, but if you feel any pain in your shoulder at all, we’re stopping, got it?”

  “You trying to boss me around blondie?”

  Winking at him, I say, “Wouldn’t dream of it mouse.”

  “Liar.”

  “Maybe.”

  Chuckling, he twines his fingers into my hair and says, “Shut up and kiss me, blondie.”

  “With pleasure, mouse.”

  Watching Justice prep himself is a sight I want to see often. Envisioning a future with him wasn’t something I planned to do but after spending the last two weeks with him and seeing him letting go like this, has me craving more. Wanting to see where this goes is new territory for me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had some semblance of a relationship with anyone so the fact that I’ve started one in the midst of chaos scares me a little. I know Justice can take care of himself, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying for his safety.

  After my cousin is taken care of, I’m going to make the organization legit and move to the country. If I want to have any sort of life with Justice, I have to do this. There’s no way I’ll let our children grow up with a constant threat to their lives hanging over their heads. Jesus, children? Where did that come from? Fuck… if I’m thinking about having children with Justice, then my feelings run deeper than I thought which makes Justice a prime target for my cousin. Well, that’s if he even knew about my feelings which he doesn’t. Hell, I didn’t know about them until a few seconds ago.

  I do know one thing, I have to put a stop to my cousin’s reign of terror as soon as possible. My future depends on it. I just hope, that if it comes down to him or me, I’ll be able to pull the trigger. It’s not easy killing family but if it has to be done, so be it.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this? You seem like your thoughts are elsewhere.”

  Winking at Justice who looks concerned, I nod. “I’m sure. As for my thoughts, well, you’re supposed to be distracting me from them.”

  “Then I must not be doing something right.”

  “Oh, trust me, blondie, you’re doing everything right. Getting lost in watching you, is what had my thoughts spinning the first time.”

  “Maybe I should do something that has your thoughts focused on me.”

  “Show me what you got, blondie.”

  He grins and straddles my hips, lowering himself until my cock is nestled firmly inside of him.

  Groaning, I pull him towards me and take his lips in a kiss. I feel his fingers tangle in my hair as he begins to move. He keeps his movements slow and torturous. Every time I try to move my hips, so he’ll go faster, I get a glare in return.

  Gripping his hips, I pull myself up into a sitting position and press my face to his neck, nibbling on the tendons there. If he wants to take this slow and savor it, I won’t complain but I’m not just going to lay here and take it while he doesn’t get much in return. Focusing on his neck so I’m not straining my shoulder too much, I lick and nibble every spot of skin I can reach, searching for his hot spots. When I’m back to full strength, I’ll lay him out and explore every inch of him for hours until he’s begging to be taken and when I finally give in, I’ll savor it, just like he is now. Then, after a short break I’ll let him do the same to me.

  When I press my lips below the shell of his ear and nip the spot, his breath hitches, and he lets out a moan. Grinning, I continue to tease that spot until he grips my hair and pulls me away from his neck. Seeing his blue eyes darkened with lust is another sight I won’t get enough of. Given half the chance, I could see myself falling for him completely.

  As his movements become erratic, I realize I’m right there with him. Taking him in hand, I begin to stroke his cock making sure he gets off first. When his orgasm hits, the expression on his face is exquisite. Jesus, I’ve become such a sap. His chute muscles clench around my cock, ripping my orgasm from me. It’s earth-shattering, almost as if, right at this very moment, nothing exists outside of us. Damn… sounds like I’m halfway in love already.

  Grinning, I press a kiss to Justice’s temple and say, “When can we do that again?”

  He laughs and says, “You hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “I think the shower is calling us.”

  “Well, now that you mention it, I believe you’re right.”

  Justice climbs off my lap and removes the condom. Tossing it into the trash can by the bed, he heads for the bathroom and says, “Come on mouse, let’s get cleaned up so we can get dirty again.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  “You can say that again when I have you bent over against the shower wall.”

  Grinning, I reach into the shower and turn on the water. “Blondie, I’ll say it every day of the week and twice on Sunday if it gets me an orgasm like the one I just had.”

  “It’ll get you something, alright.”

  “As long as it satisfies us both, I don’t care what you do.”

  Justice grins mischievously, “So, if I wanted to tie you up and pretend you’re my prisoner while I played bad cop, you’d let me?”

  “That and so much more blondie, as long as I got to do the same to you in return.”

  “I’d never do anything to you that I wasn’t willing to do myself. I’ve always enjoyed switching so it’ll never be a problem. The one thing I ask is that if we’re going to pursue whatever this is between us, it’s only between us. Cheating is a deal breaker for me.”

  Pushing him into the shower, I step in behind him and turn him to face me. Taking his face between my hands, I look into his eyes and say, “I would never stoop so low. If at some point down the line we’d like to bring in someone to share for one night, I’d be okay with it but only if it’s something we both wanted. What I’m trying to say is I want us to be completely honest with each other regardless of how we think the other is going to react. If we don’t talk it won’t work.”

  I reach for the shampoo, but he grabs my hand before I can pick up the bottle and grips it like a lifeline. Looking into his eyes, I see fear there and can’t help wondering what caused it.

  I get my answer when he says, “I have something to tell you.”

  Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I’m doing this. There goes my plan. Oh well, at least I’ll die happy.

  “Don’t tell me you’re married.”

  “No, it’s worse than that.”

  “What could be worse than being married?”

  “Being an undercover FBI agent.”

  Mickey steps back, shakes his head, and steps out of the shower. He jerks a towel from the rack and wraps it around his hips then stalks out of the bathroom.

  Sighing, I turn off the water, grab a towel for myself and exit the bathroom while wrapping the towel around my waist. When I enter the bedroom, I see Mickey is already dressed in a pair of sleep pants and is currently pacing the floor. As soon as he spots me he points to the bed and says, “Sit down and tell me everything.”

  Gripping the towel like a lifeline, I sit on the bed and say, “For the last ten years, I’ve worked as an agent for the FBI. Until recently, I was on another case that I’d been handling for three years. When you threw open the doors to your organization by inviting outsiders to audition for the head of security position my bosses decided it was a great opportunity to finally get evidence they can use against you.”

  Mickey closes his eyes and says, “Jesus Christ. I knew I was taking a risk, but I never thought an agent would actually get in.”

  “It wasn’t guaranteed that I’d even get the position but on the off chance I did, they set me up with everything I’d need. It wasn’t much of a cover story though. The only thing they did was wipe away my history with the FBI. Everything else was the truth and if someone looked hard enough, they’d have found something about my time with the FBI.
You can wipe away employment records, but news articles and pictures are something else entirely.”

  “So, you’re saying we didn’t look hard enough?”

  “That’s not what I meant. Fuck, I’m screwing this up. Look, when I came here I had every intention of gathering evidence against you and then retiring when the case was finished. What I hadn’t counted on was you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean, you’re not the person they make you out to be. Over the last two weeks, I’ve gotten to know you and see the type of man you are. I liked what I saw so much that I stopped looking for evidence and focused on keeping you alive, so I could stay with you a bit longer. Even if it meant dying when you decided to kill me after finding out the truth. My plan was to find something inconsequential to send the agency that they wouldn’t be able to use and then tell you the truth.”

  “How do you contact them?”

  Standing, I pick up my suit pants and hand him my phone. Watching him tap the screen as he goes through the contents has my stomach churning. When he turns the screen, so I can see what he’s looking at, I notice the pictures I took when I searched his office. “Did you send them any of this?”

  “Just the bank statements.”

  He hands my phone back to me and nods. “Good. They wouldn’t have been able to use those. I keep everything incriminating in the world’s most impenetrable safe at the warehouse.”

  Stuffing the phone back into the pocket of my suit pants, I say “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I had to send them anything at all.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not but thanks for saying so anyways.”

  A wave of sadness hits me, and I have to look away from him, so he doesn’t see the tears that spring to my eyes. Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath and try to calm down.

  “Tell me something, how much of what you told me while we got to know each other was a lie?”

  “The only thing I ever lied about was the odd jobs I had to do after getting out of the military. Everything else was the truth.”