Dirty Liar: An Irish Mafia Romance

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Dirty Liar: An Irish Mafia Romance Page 6

by KB Winters


  My brother tried valiantly to live a legit life and I respected that. Always did my best to avoid infringing on his services. But if it came down to it and I was jammed up, he could always be trusted to pull a few strings or call in a couple of favors to save my ass.

  Which was why I’d called him to the meeting in the first place.

  The only person missing from the table was my father. He was in no condition to be troubled with this nonsense, and I’d ordered everyone to keep him out of it. Dying took enough of his energy. The last thing I wanted was for him to be exhausted from dealing with this.

  “What’s the problem, Flynn?” Emmett asked, a serious and grim expression on his tired face. “You said it was an emergency?”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid so, boys,” I said. “Things have happened with the Russians. After the cops went missing, their warehouses across the city were raided. They think we may have a snitch in our midst.”

  “A snitch?” Red scoffed, leaning back in his chair and scratching his beard. “Hell no we don’t. Not bloody possible.”

  “You sure about that, old man?” Colin asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I’d bet my life on it,” Red shot back. “I trust every single one of my brothers. None of ‘em would betray us like that. Never in a million years.” He nodded at Emmett.

  “I agree with Red,” I said, giving Colin a look. “I don’t think anyone on our end is the snitch. And without some proof, there’s really not much we can do about it. I’m certainly not going to go on a witch hunt and upset the whole damn applecart.”

  Aidan narrowed his eyes as he sat there listening to what we were saying. His expression was calm, neutral, and he appeared to be deep in thought. Being that he wasn’t as involved with the syndicate as the rest of us were, he could be counted on to see things more objectively.

  He could also read people well—a trait that helped him pick clients that made sure his winning record in the courtroom remained impeccable.

  “What are ya thinkin’, brother?” I asked him.

  “I’m just trying to go through the current members in my head, see if anything sticks out about any of them,” he said. “Don’t you have a new guy?”

  “Sean?” I said, shaking my head. “Nah, he’s just a kid, man. Not capable of—”

  “Are you sure, Flynn?” Colin asked me. “I mean, he has been acting weird lately. He’s been pretty damn jumpy if you ask me. Not attending all our meetings, showing up late. Always distracted by somethin’.”

  “Normal kid stuff, you mean?” I asked. “Don’t you remember being his age and being that sketchy, Colin?”

  “No, man, it’s more than that.” Colin leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “He’s been acting downright off. Just last week, I walked into the bathroom and happened to find him talking on his cell phone all quiet like. When I walked in, he hung up and pretended like nothing was happening. Like he hadn’t just been having some whispered conversation on his phone in the bathroom. I remember him asking me some lame question about the Bears or the Cubs or some shit like that.”

  “So?”

  “So, I think it’s enough to at least question him, don’t ya think?” Colin said.

  Red nodded along with him. “Not that I don’t trust him, but I trust Colin more. I hardly know the boy. I can’t really speak to whether he’s been acting shifty or not. But if Colin says the kid is acting weird, I think we need to listen to him.”

  “I’m with the boys on this one, boss,” Emmett chimed in.

  I turned to my brother. “What are your thoughts, Aidan?”

  “I see no reason you can’t at least talk to the kid. Feel him out,” he said. “I don’t know him, so I don’t have an opinion either way, but if he’s as jumpy and nervous as Colin says he is, he’ll probably fold under pressure. So, you’re just going to have to squeeze a little. And it’s probably better you figure that out sooner rather than later. Protect yourselves by nipping it in the bud.”

  He had a point. “Are you willing to come along? As backup?”

  Aidan shook his head. “Sorry, no can do. I’d rather not be involved with all of this any more than I already am. If he’s really a snitch, I don’t want my involvement getting back to the feds.”

  “Alright, brother. I understand,” I said.

  Colin had already tried the kid in his own mind and had found him guilty as sin. There was no way I wanted to ask him to come along. Colin would undoubtedly escalate the situation, ready to execute him without cause. And Red—while he was a trusted friend—I didn’t want to drag him into this whole mess either. If Sean was innocent, best he only be upset at me for coming forward to talk to him and not feel like his brothers had betrayed him or tried to cut him off at the knees. Especially one of the more respected members of the syndicate like Red.

  Which meant the questioning was all on me.

  Not that I minded. It made it easier that way. Less likely to screw it up or let the situation escalate out of hand.

  ***

  I sat in the back corner booth of the Golden Shamrock, nursing a tumbler of Irish whiskey while mindlessly shuffling a deck of cards. I’d been sitting here for hours, contemplating the meeting I’d had with Red, Colin, Emmett, and Aidan. It was hard to wrap my head around the accusations Colin was making. The syndicate was all the family that Sean had left. We’d brought him into our outfit when he was just a young lad, made sure he had the necessities needed to survive in this godforsaken world. When he was old enough to start runnin’ for us, he didn’t sneer at the chance to prove himself. Sure, he was stupid at times, but he was young and still had a lot to learn. Personally, I had my doubts that he had the malice to go after us as Colin had claimed.

  However, as boss of this outfit, I couldn’t in good conscience dismiss Colin’s concerns. Obviously, there was a rat that brought us under the heat of the Chicago PD, but the rat coulda been working with the Russians. Who could say?

  Drawing back a drink of whiskey, I shuddered. The flavor wasn’t as smooth on my palette as it was when I first started drinking. I’d sat here for hours with this same tumbler, sipping at it slowly, trying to make heads or tails of this fuckin’ shite, and I’d just realized, I wasn’t any closer now than I had been when I first sat down. I simply wasn’t sold that Sean was the rat, but I knew I needed to approach the matter with him. Fuckin’ hell, I needed a distraction. Something aside from the tumultuous trouble that followed me.

  That fierce little redhead made her presence in my thoughts, erasing any and all worry of the shite going on behind the scenes in my life as the mob boss. I’d been trying to tread lightly with Ava—she wasn’t privy to my real identity—and for some fucked up reason, I was okay with that. I picked up me cell phone and toyed with the idea of calling her, but I quickly realized I craved to see her face, to touch her soft lips far more than hearing her voice. I’d be a gentleman for a while longer, only because I didn’t want her to think I only saw her as a piece of ass. She was more than that, and while we’d only seen each other a handful of times, I knew that the very first night we’d met.

  I tapped out a text and pressed send.

  Address, sweetheart

  An incoming text pinged through moments later.

  And why would you need that, Ian?

  Fuckin’ aye, woman. I tapped out a response quickly, feeling my cock tighten against my pants from her snarky reply. She’d meant to be cute, and I could just imagine her freckled nose wrinkling in mischief as she replied.

  Told ya I’d see ya soon, and it’s been too long. Gotta keep my promises to ya, my sweet Ava.

  I tossed a wad of cash on the table and made my way out of the pub and to my car. Settling into the driver’s seat, I checked my phone to find no reply. I wasn’t in the mood for cat and mouse games with Ava.

  I’m not a patient man, sweetheart. Address

  Her reply was almost instant.

  1408 Halstead Court Apt 5

  I put the car in drive and pulled ou
t onto the road. The streets were mildly calm in the late evening hour as I navigated from the city to the small residential neighborhood. I’d arrived at Ava’s apartment twenty minutes later and wasted no time making it through the small building to stand before her door, with three short knocks.

  Ava pulled the door open slowly, and the sight of her messy red curls piled high on top of her head and her bright, mischievous green eyes caused my heart to thunder in my chest. Fuckin’ aye, I’d never been affected by a woman like I had Ava. The emotion, sensation—whatever the fuck it was—was completely uncharted territory for a bloke like me.

  “Hey, Ian,” Ava said softly, stepping back and waving me into her apartment. I grinned wide like the big bad wolf as I stalked toward my prey.

  “Sweetheart,” I muttered low, as I wrapped a sturdy hand around her hip and pulled her flush against my chest. Damn, she smelled delicious. My mouth found hers and I slowly dragged her bottom lip between my teeth—taunting, teasing her with my tongue—before quickly releasing her mouth and caressing my hand up here cheek. Dear God, she was so damn beautiful. “I shouldn’t have missed you, but I did.”

  I pulled away and stepped further into her apartment. It was small but neat and clean.

  “Uhm, would you like something to drink? I think I have some Guinness,” Ava said nervously as she slipped past me and into the kitchen.

  “Aye, sweetheart.”

  Ava returned to the living room where I was basically snooping around in her personal space, trying to figure out the woman who had me so tore up I couldn’t fuckin’ think straight once she entered my mind. That much was determined tonight at the Golden Shamrock.

  “So…” Ava dragged out handing me the bottled beer, “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you to demand a visit, especially this late at night.” She giggled, sitting down on the corner of the couch. I shrugged and sat down beside her, allowing her the personal space I didn’t want between us. But I knew—I bloody knew if I sat any closer, I wouldn’t be able to control my actions.

  “Long day—fuck, week—and I needed a distraction. You seemed like the perfect person to take my mind off the shite.” I smiled, being genuinely honest with her.

  “So I’m a distraction now, am I?” she goaded, the mischievous glint lighting up her eyes.

  “You should be honored, my sweet Ava. It’s not every day I demand a woman’s address, and then show up on her doorstep. Usually, I make the women come to me, but you’re different—special.”

  “Special, huh? So, how can I distract you, Ian? Take your mind off the bullshit week you’ve dealt with?”

  I placed my arm on the back of the couch and motioned for her to come closer. She scooted into the center of the couch, yet kept a bit of distance between us until I hooked my arm around her waist and pulled her into my lap. She gasped, her eyes wide in surprise as she settled against my hardening cock. Just one touch and this was the effect she had on me.

  “Don’t be scared, sweetheart. I promised ya, I’ll always be a gentleman.” I cupped her face in my hands and nibbled at her lip, silently asking for more. She complied, opening her mouth wide and her tongue danced with mine. Our kiss was slow and gentle but soon spiraled into the frantic kiss I’d started when I had arrived. I could get lost in this woman, completely consumed with her beauty, her touch, her scent, her kind heart.

  I raked my fingers through her hair and untangled her messy knot, letting the curls fall down her shoulders. “So damn beautiful,” I whispered, and in our kiss, I could feel the smile spreading across her lips. She deepened the kiss, taking me by surprise as she straddled my lap and ground her pussy against me. Fuck! I wouldn’t initiate the first move—not after Ava’s first impression of my intentions with her—but I’d gladly fuckin’ follow her.

  Just as my fingers skimmed the edge of her shirt, feeling the delicate skin of her back against my calloused fingertips, my phone vibrated in my pocket, distracting me in the polar opposite direction of where I wanted to be.

  “Shite,” I muttered, resting my forehead against Ava’s shoulder.

  “Ignore it, Ian.”

  I wanted to, I wanted to pretend that the only two people who existed in the world were Ava and me. But I had responsibilities that I couldn’t neglect.

  I kissed a trail from Ava’s shoulder up her tender neck, along her jaw, and to those sweet lips, earning myself a pleasing moan. “Please, Ian. Just ignore it. L-let me distract you,” she pleaded.

  I gently lifted her off my lap when my phone vibrated again. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’ve got to go.”

  I stood and made my way to the door to leave, Ava following closely behind. She smiled as she pulled the door open then tipped up on her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek. Innocent and sweet, sexy and tantalizing. Ava was the full package.

  “Goodnight, sweetheart. Lock your doors, dangerous men lurk the streets this time of night, and you’re just the kind they tend to prey upon.” I winked.

  “Oh, I’m sure of it, Ian. Call me soon.” I waited until the door was closed and the lock clicked into place before I made my way through the hallway of Ava’s apartment building. My phone had vibrated once more before I reached my car and checked the messages.

  Have you talked to Sean?

  The Russians were raided again, boss.

  Why aren’t you answerin’? Call me.

  The weight carried on my shoulders was heavy, but I couldn’t let my brothers down. They were concerned with Sean’s loyalty to the syndicate, and it was up to me to lay the issue to rest.

  Eleven

  Flynn

  The element of surprise was on my side as I stood outside Sean’s apartment. With any luck, I’d catch him in the middle of something nefarious, or I’d be able to clear him completely. Either way, not giving him advanced warning that I was coming had been a good idea.

  I knocked once, then announced it was me before knocking again.

  “Hold on, man,” his voice called from inside. “Gimme a minute.”

  I heard him shuffling around, knocking shit over in order to get to the door. The sound of beer bottles hitting the floor and other unidentifiable thumps could be heard through the door. He pulled the door open only for the security chain prevented him from opening it all the way.

  “Oh sorry, forgot about that,” he mumbled, closing the door momentarily.

  I heard the sound of metal scraping and then it rattling against the door as he removed the chain from its confines. Opening the door wide, he stood there scrubbing his hand over his face, his eyes bloodshot and hazy. I scanned him over, taking note of his appearance: a pair of red and white striped boxer shorts and his hair messed up a bit. He looked like he’d just woken up and needed a few more hours to sleep. Smelled like it, too.

  “Could you put some clothes on? I don’t want to see your pasty white ass,” I said.

  Sean laughed. “Sure thing. I just didn’t want to keep you waiting. Come on in, Flynn.”

  I entered the cluttered house, stepping around piles of clothes and other crap on the floor. Sean lived in a studio apartment meaning his entire place was literally one room—and a small one at that.

  “The price of living downtown,” he said, noticing the way I looked around his place. “But I live above a really good Chinese takeout place, so it’s worth it.”

  “You ever bring girls here, Sean?”

  “Sometimes.” He shrugged, grabbing a black t-shirt with a Jameson Irish Whiskey logo on the front off the floor. He gave it a quick sniff and—apparently not finding it too offensive—slipped it over his head. “But I clean up well when I do.”

  “I sure as hell hope so. This place is an instant mood killer,” I said, walking over to his living area. I damn near stepped in a pizza box. “For fuck’s sake, you’re a filthy bastard. Have a little pride in yourself, man.”

  “Oh, that was tonight’s dinner, I was just gonna throw that away,” he said, rushing over and picking up the box.

  H
e’d put on a pair of dark colored jeans with holes in the knees then moved quickly, grabbing the pizza box off the floor and stuffing it into an already overfilled trash can. Papers and cans littered the floor around the can and I just shook my head. This kid was a bloody pig.

  I looked down at the loveseat before deciding to chance it and have a seat. There didn’t seem to be anything overly objectionable on the cushions that I could see. I just made a mental note to throw my clothes in the washer when I got home. Or perhaps, straight into the incinerator.

  On the television screen was some sort of video game filled with explosions and men in armor running about. It was still running without him.

  “IrishBloke, you there? We need you, man,” a voice called from the television.

  “Let me just tell the guys I have to step away for a bit,” he said, standing in front of me and grabbing a headset device that sat on top of the gaming console.

  I never understood the appeal of video games. If I wanted to experience violence and death, all I had to do was step out my front door. I had enough of that shite around me already. It was in the air all day, every day. Video games were a waste of time. But millions of people devoted hours and hours to their games, so what did I know?

  Sean put on the headset and spoke to the guys on the television, letting them know he’d be back later, before powering off the X-Box and turning toward me with a stupid bloody grin on his face.

  “Sorry, some mates and I were just doing a little online gaming,” he said.

  I shrugged. “We all have our hobbies.”

  “So, what brings you over, Flynn?” he asked, a slightly nervous tremor in his voice as he ran a hand through his reddish-brown hair.

  As I sat there saying nothing, I could see that he was nervous and his tension was growing. I wasn’t the type to make house calls leisurely. If I wanted to socialize, it was over a Guinness or some smooth Irish Whiskey. So if I showed up on your doorstep, it was a safe assumption that the shite had hit the fan.

  “Sit down, Sean. We need to talk,” I said.

 

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