by Sam Burns
“Brigit?” he asked.
“Yes?”
“It’s, ah, Liam. Alex’s boyfriend?” He winced at the way it came out, more like a question than a statement. “I was wondering if he was still there.”
There was a long pause. “He’s not home?”
Liam felt his heart stutter in his chest, and he had to force himself to suck in a deep breath. “I don’t know if he’s gone to his apartment, but he was supposed to be here around this time, and his phone’s going straight to voicemail.”
“Crap,” she said. “I think he stayed a little late to talk to Key, but I’m sure I saw him leave more than an hour ago.”
He rose from the couch and started to pace. He felt like he should be doing something, but he already knew there was precious little he could do without more information. “Was he okay? Nothing wrong?”
She hummed and took a moment to consider before answering. It made her his favorite kind of witness—one who actually thought about what had happened. “He seemed a little bothered, but nothing serious. I caught him giving Keegan funny looks, but I figured that was why he went to talk to him.”
That started a whole different kind of worry in his gut. “Is Keegan still there? Can I talk to him?”
“Pretty sure he’s still in his office. I’m gonna put you on hold and go check.” The phone clicked, and went quiet.
After a wait that felt like hours, the click came again.
“Liam?” Keegan Quinn’s voice came through, sounding concerned.
“What happened with Alex?” he asked, not even giving time for pleasantries.
Keegan hesitated before giving a half-hearted response. “In regard to what?”
Okay, so skipping the initial conversation wasn’t an option. “He’s supposed to be here now, and he’s not. His phone is going straight to voicemail.”
Another moment passed before Keegan spoke again. “It must be off, it’s going to voicemail for me too.”
“Should I ask what he talked to you about? Or are you just gonna tell me it’s none of my business?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Keegan thought was his business.
Keegan let out a low chuckle. “You can ask. I won’t tell you all that we talked about, since it’s not all your business. I did screw up for you, though. I mentioned my father having him watched, and he managed to connect it to you.”
That was his Alex. So damned smart. It was going to get someone killed. He took a deep breath. “Brigit said he left before three.”
“He did,” Keegan agreed. “And I think he’s mad at you, but I don’t think he’d just not show without giving you a call, or a warning.”
“He wouldn’t. Alex doesn’t do things like that, even if he has good reason to.” Liam started running scenarios through his head. Alex fell asleep on the train and was going round the loop over and over again. Alex went home to change clothes or something, and was running late. Alex had been mugged and was lying unconscious in an alley downtown.
“I can call his emergency contact to see if they know anything,” Keegan suggested.
Liam’s phone buzzed. He pulled it away from his ear to check, and found that he had a picture message from Patrick O’Hanrahan. He clicked it open, and his blood went cold.
It was a picture of Alex, lying on the ground with his hands behind his back, obviously tied. He was glaring at whoever took the picture, eyes narrowed into slits and lips pursed. As Liam watched, another message appeared.
We need to have a chat. Call me.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled.
“Liam?” Keegan asked, still on the line and sounding concerned.
Liam had to consciously relax the grip he had on his phone before he cracked the screen. “I know where he is,” he told Keegan.
The concern in Keegan’s voice only ramped up. “Where? Did he text you? Is he okay?”
“No,” Liam said. He didn’t miss the way his voice wobbled, and he doubted Keegan did either. He cleared his throat before trying to go on. “Patty O’Hanrahan. He, ah—”
A clattering sound came through the line, like Keegan had dropped something. “What about him?” Keegan’s voice had gone down an octave, and his accent was more pronounced.
“He has him. He—” Liam broke off mid-sentence, remembering their previous conversation about the Quinn family business. “No, you know what, you’re out. Right?”
“And Alex is my employee. My friend.” For a man who didn’t want to be in, Keegan sounded determined to get there.
Liam gave in without any further argument. He was in no mood to debate, and Keegan wanted to know. “He has him. Says we need to chat, to call him.”
The only sound on the line for a few seconds was Keegan breathing. “Do you know why he’d need leverage on you?”
There was a big debate about this, Liam knew. Was a man defined by his knee-jerk actions in the most stressful moments of his life, or by the way he decided to act every day? Liam had been through those defining moments, and he’d always found that morality rarely came into them. Do you save the guy in the burning car or not? Of course you do. That wasn’t about bravery, it was about instinct, about not wanting to watch a man die, not wanting to be responsible for something so horrible.
This wasn’t like that, though. This was choosing between one morally murky option and another. Did he go to Casey, get the law involved, catch the bad guy and maybe get Alex killed because the police didn’t negotiate with kidnappers? Did he try to do it on his own, and let Patty O’Hanrahan kill him in hope that the crazy asshole wouldn’t kill Alex anyway? Or did he ask for Keegan’s help, for Brendan Quinn’s help, to try to get Alex out alive, job and everything else be damned?
It was the final question. Who was Liam? Was he a cop who put his job and the people of Chicago above all else? Or was he a man who put his boyfriend’s life first?
And it wasn’t a question at all.
“There were Russians yesterday,” he told Keegan. “We were at a meet with a Colombian, and an SUV of Russians showed up trying to kill us, saying Patty was stealing business from them.”
“Russians?” The power had gone out of Keegan’s voice, and it was barely more than a breath.
“Keegan?” he asked. He paused again, steeling his resolve. Fuck it. He was going to do whatever it took to get Alex out alive and then let the chips fall where they may. “I think O’Hanrahan has been bringing guns into the city without your father’s knowledge, and selling them as a sideline. It pissed the Russians off, and they tried to kill him yesterday.”
When Keegan broke the silence he sounded sad, but determined. “How do you know all this?”
It wasn’t an unexpected question, but it was the moment that Liam put his life in the hands of the Quinn family. There was no way to explain the extent of his knowledge without the truth. “I’m a cop. I’ve been investigating O’Hanrahan for almost six months.”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “Do you think he knows?”
Well damn. Liam hadn’t even considered that. “Possible, but I don’t think so. He knows about me and Alex, though. I’m not the best liar, so I didn’t do a great job pretending I didn’t care what happened to him.”
There was a not-quite-restrained laugh on the other end of the line. “No, you wouldn’t do a good job of that. Why the hell would the CPD send someone who can’t lie undercover?”
“To be fair, I’m good at it in the short term,” Liam said. “And I did alright until it was about Alex.”
“Alex is something different,” Keegan agreed. “I doubt you’d have made it a week if you couldn’t lie at all. And love makes us do funny things.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that. It was a bit early to be talking about love. He loved the way Alex talked, and the way he laughed, and his random sense of humor, but the word love felt like jumping into the deep end of the pool after two swimming lessons. On the other hand, Liam had learned to swim in one.
Time to get the conversati
on back on track. “So Patty might have a problem because I know things he doesn’t want anyone knowing. I think he got Donny killed on purpose, too.”
There was a long silence. Then, “His nephew Donny?”
Shit. He should have known that wouldn’t have gotten around yet. “Yeah. It’s a long story, but he made sure the Russians had their guns aimed somewhere other than himself.”
“At Donny,” Keegan said, and Liam made a noise of agreement. “Was anyone else at the meet?”
“No, just me, Patty and Donny,” Liam said. “Well, and the Colombians and Russians. But everyone but me and Patty are dead.”
“So if he kills you, he can blame the whole thing on you.” Keegan’s voice had gone flat and hard, and Liam wondered if it was an insight into the Keegan who’d been involved in his father’s business. “But it still doesn’t track. If he just wanted to kill you, he’d make a call and you’d be dead.”
It was true, and Liam had an unfortunate idea of what it might mean. “Taking Alex implies he wants me to do something. Take responsibility for the guns myself? Work the racket for him?”
“Possible,” Keegan said. He sounded doubtful, though.
Liam flipped his phone screen back on and looked at Alex’s baleful glare. He couldn’t let that be the last thing he saw of him. If one of them made it out alive, it had to be Alex.
“I’m going to call him,” he told Keegan. “I’d tell you to come here, but we both know I’m not going to wait that long.”
Keegan hummed an agreement. A second later, though, he spoke again. “I’m going to call my father. I won’t tell him that you’re a cop, but he needs to know what Uncle Pat’s up to.”
That gave Liam pause. “You don’t think he needs to know I’m a cop?”
“You said you’re after Pat,” Keegan said. “Was that true?”
“Yes.”
“Then I see no reason my father needs to know your business. Unless you wanted me to tell him?” Damn the man, he sounded amused.
“What do you think he’ll do when you tell him about O’Hanrahan?” he asked, nervous about the idea of an angry Brendan Quinn, even if the man wasn’t after him.
Keegan considered that for a moment. “The old man’s not stupid. He’ll find out if it’s true. If it is, and I do believe you that it is, then God help Uncle Pat.”
The whole idea made him want to shiver. O’Hanrahan and Quinn weren’t related, but they’d been friends since childhood. They were so close that Quinn’s son called the other man uncle. And Patty was betraying him. Liam didn’t want to be there to witness Quinn’s rage.
Liam couldn’t let that distract him, though. Alex’s life was more important than whatever was going to happen to Patty. “I need to call him back now. I’m supposed to be meeting him at the old storage warehouse by the docks at six, but I’m not sure if that’s going to hold anymore. For the moment, I’m going to assume it’s a yes.”
“I’ll call you back if I hear anything, and I expect the same of you.” Keegan said, and for the first time, he sounded like the domineering gangster Liam had expected him to be from the start.
“I will,” he agreed, and they hung up.
He forced himself to sit down on the couch before opening the picture of Alex once again. Taking a deep breath, he hit the call button on Patty’s number and waited.
“Liam, my boy,” Patty answered the phone on the second ring, voice falsely pleased. “How are you this evening?”
“Where’s Alex?” he asked, voice flat.
“Now, now, dear boy, there are formalities to be addressed.” O’Hanrahan’s voice was patronizing, and it set Liam’s teeth on edge. “How are you? Well? I’m not bad, myself. Had a productive day.”
“I’m not interested in your formalities,” he growled into the phone. “Where is my boyfriend?” He demanded, enunciating each word.
O’Hanrahan, ass that he was, laughed. “Now I thought he wasn’t really your boyfriend? Something about being able to control him by fucking—”
“You already know I was lying,” Liam said, cutting him off. “You’re just trying to make trouble where you know there’s none.”
“Fine then, be a wet blanket. He’s here with me. Would you like to say hello, Mr. Austin?” Liam was wondering who Mr. Austin was a second later, when the distinctive background static of a phone being switched to speaker sounded.
“I’d like to say go to hell, Mr. Mobster,” Alex’s voice responded from a distance, his tone as dry and disinterested as Liam had ever heard it. “Liam, tell him to go to hell.”
Liam snorted. Tell O’Hanrahan to go to hell? Liam was going to send the bastard there himself.
The static stopped, indicating that the speaker had been switched off.
“He’s quite entertaining company,” O’Hanrahan said, sounding amused. “But you’re the man I need to be talking to.”
“So talk,” Liam said.
“Oh, not over the phone. In person. As arranged this morning.”
“I’ll be there.” Liam stood to move, since he had a goal, a place to go so that he would feel like he was accomplishing something. There were few things he hated more than feeling useless, and now he knew where to go, which was the first step to fixing this mess.
“Excellent,” O’Hanrahan said. “I’ll see you at six. Don’t be late. You know how I get lonely.”
The call ended.
Liam was struck by the wish to rewind, to tell Alex something instead of staying quiet. He didn’t want what could be his last moment with Alex to be over.
Liam caught a cab to the docks. It cost a small fortune, but it was worth it for his peace of mind. Risking one’s job on a late train was a fact of life in Chicago. Risking Alex’s life on the possibility was too much.
He’d brought two phones: the one he used as Liam Kennedy, and the one he had for use as an emergency contact to his partner. He wasn’t sure he’d need either, but it seemed sensible to be as prepared as he could, so he had tucked one into each front pocket of his jacket.
He’d worn his gun in its holster, though he knew that O’Hanrahan’s first demand was going to be that he rid himself of it. If he showed up unarmed, Patty would find that even more suspicious.
It took him five minutes to walk to the warehouse from where he had the cabbie drop him off, and he tried to use it to calm his racing heart. He was good at mentally preparing for combat, but part of him still hoped he could get ahead of the situation. He thought his optimism was out of control if he was hoping to avoid a fight, though.
The wind bit into him when he turned the corner to the lake side of the building, so he pulled his canvas jacket closer around himself and tucked his head down. It was the only coat he had since the leather one had been a casualty in the fight with the Russians, and it wasn’t nearly heavy enough for December. Not for the first time, he wished that Liam Kennedy had a real winter coat.
He was only halfway to the door when he caught sight of a figure leaning against a closed bay door.
“Thought you’d be along,” Mickey Martin said. The look on his face was unreadable, but at the same time, Liam saw more intensity in it than any time previous.
Liam’s instinct was to lash out. Mickey had helped kidnap Alex? He had a part in this. Casey had been right—he was nothing better than a thug. Liam had liked him, because Liam was an idiot. He clenched his teeth and refused to say anything.
“Did ya really get Donny killed?” Mick asked. It was the last question Liam had expected, under the circumstances. Mickey’s tone said he’d already decided what the answer was, but he wanted Liam’s take.
Liam looked at him for a minute before answering. “Not that Donny wasn’t perfectly capable of getting himself killed, but no. If anyone did that, it was his uncle.”
Mickey flinched away, head almost connecting with the corner of the bay door frame. “That’s worse than I figured.”
“You didn’t think I did it?” Liam asked, surprised at the idea.
“And then he told you to kidnap Alex.” Liam didn’t bother to hide his anger.
Mickey let his head fall back against the side of the building. “Yep.” He lifted it back up a moment later to look at Liam, and smiled wickedly. “I think we ought to get in there, before Patty decides you’re not coming.”
Liam cocked his head in surprise.
We?
Liam made a point of practically stomping his way into the warehouse. He wanted Patty to hear him coming a mile away.
The other man didn’t seem perturbed by his loud entry, though. He was sitting on a desk with a gun in his hand, looking down at Alex, who was still on the floor in front of him. They both looked up at Liam and smiled.
Alex’s smile managed to be genuine, despite the circumstances. “Good to see you,” he said softly, as though he could keep Patty from hearing it.
“You too,” Liam said. Then he looked up at Patrick O’Hanrahan and his unsettling shark smile. “What the hell do you want?”
O’Hanrahan made a show of pretending to think about it for a moment, tapping the barrel of his gun under his chin. “First, I want you to lose the gun.”
Annoying, but not at all unexpected. Liam didn’t even protest, he just slowly reached under his jacket and pulled out his own firearm. He ejected the cartridge, and dropped both pieces on the floor.
“Alright then, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, how was your lunch with the pretty police officer?” O’Hanrahan asked, pulling his feet up to rest them on Alex’s hip like he was a piece of furniture.
Liam had to clench his whole body to keep from jumping forward and throttling the man. So much for Mickey having his back. Liam could only hope the other man hadn’t heard. If he didn’t have Mick, he wasn’t getting out alive.
It was Alex who broke the tense silence. “Is he telling the truth? You’re like, a police informant?”