Page 67 of Fearless Sinner

Cillian…

He was just a dream. This is reality and the last thing I need to do for redemption.

I will not let my mother die. I can’t lose her. Not like Dad.

“Hello, sweetness. You look like just what we need inside,” comes a smoky voice from behind me.

I turn around to see one of the bouncers looking at me while he smokes a cigar.

“I was looking at the vacancy post. Is it still available?”

He smiles, reminding me of a shark. “For you it is. Follow me.”

I do.

Chapter Eighteen

Cillian

“What’s your name?” I aim my gun at the ugly motherfucker with the bald head, missing teeth, bloodshot frog eyes and the worst beer gut I’ve ever seen.

He’s the one in charge of this shit show at the old military base.

We’re inside. We just intercepted the exchange of part one of Jaxon’s gun shipment with the Mazzone family’s capo and underboss, who fled like the cowardly assholes they are when they saw us.

I can’t blame them. No one wants trouble with me, let alone with the Creed. But they’re already in trouble, and they know it. The fact that we saw them and knew about them coming here tonight to buy Jaxon’s guns was enough to put a target on the entire family’s back.

Now I have this fucker—the one in charge of tonight’s op—on his knees with his hands behind his head, staring back at me in terror. Next to him are the five other members of their gang. Around them lie the dead men who tried to protect them.

Joining me are Jaxon, Dante, and Virgo. And we have the place surrounded with our men. Unlike the other week when we just had to act on the spur of the moment, this time we’ve had days to prepare.

Seeing that this ugly fucker before me is choosing to keep his silence, I cock the hammer on my gun. The click-clack sound makes his eyes snap wide. They’re going to pop if they grow any wider. “I said tell me your fucking name. If I have to repeat myself I will fuck you up so bad you’ll have to pee through a tube.”

“It’s… Do…minic. Dominic.” His voice shakes like he’s on a bumpy ride to hell.

Jaxon raises his shotgun and points it at the guy next to Dominic. That’s Dominic’s son. He looks a fraction better than Dominic but you can tell he’s young. Maybe early twenties young.

“Do…minic.” Jaxon mimics Dominic’s stammer. “This one is dead if you don’t talk. Do you understand me?”

Dominic nods fast, his head bobbing like one of those dashboard dollies. He switches his gaze from Jaxon back to me. This asshole knows that we’re both ready to kill even though we got back some of Jaxon’s shipment.

This heist tonight was the only thing distracting me from Chloe. I knew tonight could be important in pushing me in the right direction to finding Lance if everything played out right. So far so good. They didn’t know we were coming. That means we finally have the upper hand.

“Okay, Dominic.” I keep my gun trained on him. “Tell me where Harlan is or, even better, Lance Polinsky.”

“If I talk, they kill my family.” Dominic sounds firmer, unlike before.

I throw him a relentless grin. “Oh, you mean your wife, who is currently at home with your ten-year-old daughter baking a cake for your parents' anniversary dinner tomorrow night at the Langdon Hotel?”

Jesus, his eyes are going to fucking pop.

“Oh my God, no, please. Don’t hurt them.” Dominic moves his hands from behind his head and clasps them in front of me to beg.

I shoot the space next to him and he yelps. “Hands back behind your head.”

“Yes, yes. Of course.” He places his hands back but then I notice that he’s pissed himself. Urine darkens his beige pants then spreads out around him. Then I smell it.

“Fucking pathetic. You call yourself a gangster?”

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