He pulled at the bottom of the dark blue jacket as he stepped out of the bathroom into the main hallway of the mansion.
Pausing at the base of the main staircase, Devan noted the two door guards by the entrance. He turned to look up at the office he was heading to above. The staircase was one of those he thought they called bifurcated or something. There was a wide base and it went up about halfway before it split into right and left stairs going up to the landing above. Devan jogged up the middle and headed to the right-hand stair as always. He went across the landing to the office directly in the middle. It sounded pretentious to call it a mansion, but it was a literal mansion. He passed the two other doors belonging to Callaghan’s right and left-hand men.
As he walked past Redmond’s office, the man himself stepped out. Devan almost stumbled into him because he tended to take up more space than necessary. Devan glared at Redmond as he walked past the taller man. He really, really disliked Redmond. Devan had good cause for this, though; Redmond had turned on O’Brien and ended up causing more than one death in O’Brien’s ranks.
He knocked lightly and heard the muffled “enter” from the other side. Redmond was following him which set Devan on edge more than a little bit. He ignored the bastard and gave Rian Callaghan a curt nod as he entered the room.
Callaghan was bent over a bit, writing something in a notebook. As usual, he wore a dark gray suit and a red tie. His hair was almost completely white with bits of gray, a complete change from his younger days of dark red. Devan couldn’t help the surge of bile rising in his throat at the sight of the man he had to work for.
Callaghan looked up and locked his light-colored eyes on Devan. “Ah, Sully, m’boy, come, sit down. We were just about to get started,” he stated and gestured to a semi-circle of seats in front his desk. There were three others already seated, leaving an empty seat for him. He nodded and sat down. He crossed his legs and glanced over to see a man he was unfamiliar with in a pinstriped suit standing by those seated.
“So, first I’ll hear you out, Mr. Jones, was it?” Callaghan demanded, turning to look at the pinstriped suit wearing man.
“Yes, Mr. Callaghan. I represent an interested party in a building you own in—”
Callaghan narrowed his eyes at him. “No.”
The man blinked large, dark eyes and looked around at the others. “Pardon me?”
Callaghan shook his head. “No, we’re not divesting of any companies or properties. You may go.”
“Sir, you didn’t hear the offer, it is quite lucrative—” he tried as Redmond came over to escort him out.
“Tell Mr. DawnStar I still have no interest in his overtures,” he informed the other man and Devan shook his head. Callaghan didn’t like to be approached for things like that. Idiot, he thought. He wished he’d known he was sending someone over about it. Devan could have let his dad know to tell the businessman not to waste a trip. His dad worked as a lawyer for the newest business in St. Louis, DawnStar Industries.
Callaghan turned to Devan. “Now, Sully, I’ve got a run for you today,” he smiled.
“Sure boss, whatcha got for me?” he said, attempting to remain neutral.
“Redmond, see if the package is ready?” Callaghan called and the huge redheaded man left for a moment before coming back with a two-foot wide cube shaped box. He sat it down in front of Devan on the large desk with a thump. “Take this to my dear friend Liam. And don’t open it.”
Devan nodded. “Sure thing, Boss. Any message other than the package?”
Callaghan smiled again and Devan knew this was going to be bad. The old man was far too pleased with himself. Devan swallowed hard enough for it to almost be an audible gulp as Callaghan responded.
“No, the package speaks for itself.”
Devan nodded at Callaghan again and picked up the box as he stood. He turned and headed out of the room with the it. Whatever was in the box kept rolling about and had significant weight. He had a very good idea of what it might be. This was what he hated the most about doing this job, but he knew if it wasn’t for him doing it, more people could end up dead. As a liaison between two powerful Irish mob bosses, Devan did what he could. Sometimes it wasn’t enough.
The walk from the office to his car was a blur. He popped open the trunk of his light blue car and rested the box on the lip so he could reach over and moved the duffel bag as far to the side as he could. He sat the box down on a tarp he used to cover the bottom of his trunk. He really didn’t want anything on his go-bag if the box leaked. He slammed the lid down and walked around to the front of the car, glad it hadn’t decided to rain again today.
“Sully,” came a deep voice behind him.
Turning his head, Devan spotted one of his other least favorite people in Callaghan’s compound. A taller man, at least six and a half feet, with a dark mop of shaggy, deep reddish brown hair came sauntering over to him. Devan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at him. Again? He was going to end up kicking this guy’s nuts off if he kept this up. It didn’t help that Devan had heard the things he had done with Callaghan’s discarded treasures during body disposals. It seemed Jake didn’t care if his pleasures came from the living or not.
“Can I help you, Jake?” he inquired, turning around and leaning back against the door of his car.
“Sure, what you doin’ today?” he asked as he got closer to him.
“Working, Callaghan is sending me on a delivery to O’Brien.” He watched the other man lean against Devan’s car.
Jake smirked. “Want some company?”
Devan shook his head. “No. Remember, the reason I do this is so none of the Callaghans are sent into O’Brien grounds? Keeps the death toll down on both sides.”
“Well, you know, you could drop me off at the whorehouse we got over there,” he shrugged. “I could do with a woman to fuck while I wait for you to get done with O’Brien.”
Devan hated the fact Liam didn’t stop the prostitution and drug running on the other side of the river in the O’Brien’s territory. Their territory was split at the Mississippi River with O’Brien running things on one side, and Callaghan ran things on the St. Louis side. Liam refused to run guns, drugs, or sex workers, so he really couldn’t step in when Callaghan ran both sides of the river regarding those things. Devan had an idea Liam was hoping Callaghan would trip up and get caught over there.
“That’s okay, I’ll be good,” he grunted as he turned to get into the car.
Just as Devan reached for the door handle, Jake grabbed his wrist and yanked it back. “You know, I noticed this,” he whispered while pushing Devan’s sleeve up a bit and traced his finger over the subtle discoloration on his wrist and forearm. “They some sort of tattoo?”
Devan narrowed his eyes at him. “They’re black light ink,” he snapped and pulled his arm away from him. “And none of your business.”
“I’d like to make them my business.” Jake moved to cage him against the side of the car. Devan slipped under his arm and avoided being pinned in place.
“Well, Jake, I don’t want to make it your business. You know I don’t fuck with anyone in either compound. Especially not right under Callaghan’s nose. You realize he’d have both our heads if he had any idea we swung both ways. You take a risk even coming up to me like this,” he insisted and crossed his arms over his thin chest. It was times like this Devan wished he didn’t weight a hundred thirty pounds soaking wet. Assholes like this constantly thought he was an easy target.
Jake ran a hand through his hair and looked away from Devan. “Well, that’s too bad. I heard you are quite the-”
“Jake!” came a call from the front door of the house. “The fuck are you doing? Got a fucking job!” yelled his partner Davis.
“Ah, duty calls, but I’ll see you around,” he waved and wandered back toward the house.
Devan felt his jaw tighten as he finally got in the car. He hated the fucking bastard. Not as much as he hated Callaghan or Redmond, of course. Still, he was
fucking entitled as shit and thought he had a right to put his hands on anyone he wanted. Devan halfway hoped he would try something one day because he’d enjoy grinding his foot into the honorless bastard’s nuts until he screamed for mercy. Devan could make him do that. And not give it to him. He shook away the violent image and sighed.
He drove out of the compound and drove for almost an hour until he pulled up to the gate of the O’Brien grounds just outside St. Peters. It was a large piece of property, but close enough to the highways to make accessing it easy. He punched in the gate code and drove up to the cul-de-sac.
Once he’d parked in the side lot, he got out and opened the trunk to retrieve the box. He picked it up and much to his annoyance found it damp on the bottom. He hoped it didn’t leak through before he got it into the house. Devan wasn’t squeamish, but the thought of getting congealed blood on his hands was rather unpleasant. He was pretty damn sure what was in the fucking thing now. He swallowed hard and headed in, past the security guys, and up to O’Brien’s office on the second floor.
Unlike Callaghan’s mansion house, Liam’s base was in an old two-story Victorian house which had been falling down when Liam had purchased it. The outside was painted blue with white shutters, and other than sitting in an out-of-the-way area, there was nothing unusual about the location. Of course, it was all sitting on a large piece of land outside St. Peters. Surrounded by trees, and virtually undetectable unless someone knew what to look for, the compound had never felt like a prison to Devan as Callaghan’s place did. Instead, this house always felt like a second home to him.
Devan took the simple switchback stairs up to the office just past the bathroom, at the end of the single hallway. He knocked and received the expected call to enter. He went in and saw Liam O’Brien sitting and chatting with his right-hand man, Flannán Kearney. Flannán was a tall, thin man with the visage of a real bookworm. No matter what happened Flannán always looked calm, his steely blue eyes alert behind the heavy plastic-framed glasses he wore. Devan had always admired that aspect about Liam’s second. As usual, he was dressed in a three-piece suit, but Devan didn’t think he had ever seen the man in anything less. Now, Flannán was in his mid-fifties, and his once thick red hair had been reduced to a bare ring neatly kept around the back of his head. Devan knew the man had been a redhead from the old photos of their younger days Liam kept around the office.
Liam sat at the large oak table, and around him, the office walls were covered in bookshelves filled with tomes after tomes. Like the old books behind him, Liam O’Brien looked old and wizened; his once dark strawberry blond hair had gone white, and his face was covered with an equally white full beard. Given the chance, the old Irishman often donned a red suit at Christmas for the kids in the Family. He needed the padding for it, but as the years passed, he had less need for all that padding.
“Boss...” he muttered and Liam looked up. His eyes were as lively as they had been when he was young, their clear blue color never seeming to dull. Liam sighed, and a look of nearly heartbreaking sadness crossed his face.
“Damn him. Who this time?” He got up to take the box from Devan. “I swear to God I regret not killing that man a long time ago,” he said as he set it down on a small side table. He turned his back to Devan as he heard him unseal the tape on the box. Liam’s shoulders sagged as he stood there.
Liam shook his head. “Flannán, go let Missy know we found out where her man disappeared to. Give her my condolences and let her know we’ll take care of her and the kids. Set them up in one of the rental properties in St. Peters.”
“Who was he?” Devan wondered with a long exhale of breath.
Liam shook his head again and came back over to Devan. “I’m sorry, m’boy. I hate how he sends yeh with these. You know he takes some perverse pleasure in having yeh do it.”
“Well, I can’t keep all of them from dying, but at least I can keep some of them in check.” Devan shrugged.
“The young man made a mistake; he was over in Rian’s territory, tryin’ to get information on some of the odd things going on lately. Ended up crossin’ one of Rian’s men in the field. He knew the risks when he went out. Still hate to have lost him, though. Good man. His wife and three boys will miss him, but we’ll take care o’them.”
Devan nodded. “I know you will, Boss. Just...”
O’Brien put his hands on Devan’s shoulders and looked into Devan’s eyes. “None o’this ‘Boss’ nonsense. Tell me, how’s m’boy these days? Rian’s been keepin’ yeh busy and I haven’t been seein’ yeh.”
Devan shrugged again. “You know, Liam. Glad Callaghan hasn’t had extra work for me, so been bartending down at Danica’s mostly.”
“How’s the old girl?” O’Brien asked, smiling at him.
Snorting a laugh, Devan found himself smiling despite his mood. “Oi, old girl? She’ll beat ya with that crop of hers if you go callin’ her that.”
“Don’t I know it!” The old man chuckled. “She’s nowhere near the age o’ this ol’ man. She would lay me low with her skills. She is a good mam for all you wayward kids.”
“Not a kid anymore, Liam,” Devan pouted.
“Ah, m’boy, yeh’ll always be the freaked out, soaked to the bone, shivering mess that came in this office ten years ago t’me. Nay, not much has changed in ten years, save Rian’s getting’ more brutal these days. I’m gettin’ the feelin’ he’s after me attention again. Man has lost his shite.” Liam said. “I’m glad you are on yer way to being outta this life. Did yeh check into the schoolin’ like I suggested? I know yer Dam would be happy.”
“Liam, I told them the same as I’ll tell you. I’m too old to start school right now. I’m already past twenty-five.”
“Nonsense! I heard of a lass who turned seventy while getting her schooling! Please, think on it. You got a talent for language, m’boy. You speak like eight already!”
“I don’t speak eight. Five.”
Shaking his head, Liam sighed. “Not everyone can do it on their own. What is it yeh speak now?”
“Ah, English, Russian, Mandarin, Icelandic, and Irish Gaelic...” Devan mumbled as his face began to turn red. “I started picking up books for Italian and French a couple weeks ago, but I haven’t started yet.”
“School!” Liam spoke with exasperation. “Yeh think on it, aight?”
“Alright, alright. I should go back to Callaghan’s but—”
“Go take the rest of the day off, m’boy. I’ll deal with Rian if he has anything to say about it. I know it pains you to do this type of thing.”
Devan nodded. “Sure, Liam. I’m supposed to work tonight at the club anyway. I’d rather not go back to Rian’s today,” he sighed but smiled as Liam kissed his cheek.
“Good, good. Check in with me first thing tomorrow morning before you go back out to Callaghan’s place,” he said and went back around to sit at the large desk.
As usual, when Liam slipped back into business mode, his accent started to fade. The fact he spoke with his accent when he talked to Devan was an indication of how much he trusted him. It was an honor to hear Liam’s accented voice. His family had immigrated from Monaghan, Ireland in the early 1900s, and the accent and colloquialisms had become mixed up over the years they had been in Boston.
Lost in thought Devan turned and headed out of the room. As he came out of Liam’s office, he nearly ran into Sharon Kearney, the house medic, and Flannán’s daughter.
“Oh, hey, Sully!” she exclaimed with a smile.
“Sharon, hey, what’s up?” He smiled back at her.
“Not much. You look a bit pale, hon.” Her green eyes reflected the concern she felt.
Devan shook his head. “Ugh, delivery from Callaghan. And dealing with asshole Jake before I left the compound didn’t help.”
“Oh, isn’t he the jerk who keeps trying to convince you to sleep with him?” She crossed her arms across her ample chest.
Devan noted her buttons were hard at work trying to keep her
shirt closed. Sharon was no small girl, but a fully filled out woman. Her curvy shape often meant she tried to hide her size in too-large clothes, but for some reason, Devan had noted lately she’d taken to wearing more form-fitting clothing. Maybe she had finally taken his advice to quit worrying so much and dress as she wanted.
Devan nodded. “Asshole doesn’t take no for an answer. One of these days, he’s gonna put his dirty hands on me, and I’m gonna fuckin’ hurt him.”
She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t doubt it, Sully. How’s the new...” she tapered off and tapped her ear.
“Perfect. I’ll never repay him for it.” Devan smiled. “I saw the ticket.”
“Ah, don’t worry, you’re like one of his kids. He doesn’t have his daughters to dote on these days, so he has to spend his money on someone.” Sharon put a comforting hand on his back and rubbed it gently. “Take care, okay? And watch out for Jake. He’s a sneaky bastard from what I hear. Those guys Callaghan has on the cleaner team scare me.”
“I can handle him.” Devan headed back downstairs to leave. He could handle the bastard. Some creep like Jake would not get the jump on him; he would not allow it.
Once outside, he stripped off his jacket and tossed it in the back, pulling off the blasted tie. He hated ties with a vengeance. He threw it in the back seat as well and slid into the front seat.
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