Page 107 of Líadan's Code

“Hopefully, he stays that way,” Mickey teases me. “Look, you have your entire life ahead of yourself. This particular walk of life isn’t an easy one. We all have your back, but is it too prying to ask what you want?”

Leaning back in my chair with my legs crossed at the knee, I think about it. I don’t know what else I would do. I sacrificed so much to be where I am right now.

“Who else is going to keep everyone on the straight and narrow?” I ask honestly. “Well maybe not at all straight, but you know what I mean. If I disappear, so would the plans for everything else as I unravel what Daddy was involved in. I don’t give a fuck about the law, I care about human decency.”

I speak low, because we’re in public, but Mr. Fiddler is the funeral home for most of the crime families in Chicago, which means he checks his establishment for bugs so often it’s an obsession.

One I very much approve of.

“I don’t want to live in Chicago,” I admit. “I’ll run things, set up necessary facilities and businesses, but I’m tired of being bound to one place.”

“I think that’s doable,” Mickey says, crossing his arms as he gets comfortable. “Sell your dad’s place, or demolish it. That place may as well be filled with ghosts.”

“You’re not wrong,” I murmur as Brendan walks quickly back into the room. He relaxes slightly as he sees who I’m talking to, and I have a feeling he was waylaid.

That thought is proved correct as an influx of men follow him.

“Is it over yet?” I ask, sighing.

Mickey checks his watch, his head bobbing from side to side. “You have half an hour, kiddo. Go be awesome and shit, and I’ll see you tomorrow,” he grunts, standing.

He doesn’t even bother to greet the people walking in, making me press my lips together in amusement. To anyone else, it would look as if I’m pissed off. I guess it works.

Standing, I feel a wave of dizziness, making me clench my fist as I shut my eyes against it. Fuck me.

“Milseán?” Brendan asks, and I can tell he’s standing in front of me, blocking any eyes.

“Dizzy,” I say softly. “Room is moving.”

“Sit and drink. You can talk to people as well sitting as you can standing,” he grunts. Nodding, I sit with a deep breath, grateful when I open my eyes and the world is no longer spinning.

Pressing the cool bottle of water against my neck, I pull open my coat. Maybe I’m just feeling overheated.

“It’s warm in here, isn’t it Líadan?” Brendan asks, raising his voice as he moves away.

The men who are either paying their respects to Daddy or waiting for me to notice them agree that it’s warm. Thankfully, they don’t stay long, and I take a deep breath once the viewing time is over.

“I want my reward,” I rasp, brow raised as I gaze at Brendan, draining the rest of the bottle in my hand dry. “Do I get it?”

Brendan gazes at me with calculating eyes, gauging how I’m doing. I would never ask for sex if I don’t actually want it, so he’s not going to insult me by asking if I’m sure. Swallowing hard, he nods.

“You can have the whole goddamn world, Lía,” he growls. “I’ll be right back.”

Standing, he doesn’t have to go far, because the funeral director is walking into the room to check on us.

“Is everything alright? Do you need the room for any longer? Take your time, by the way,” he says with a small smile.

As warm as I was in here, I know that the coffin is temperature controlled, so there’s no real hurry.

“Everything is perfect,” Brendan says. “Lía would like a private moment with her father. Is it possible to close the room off and tell anyone else that comes by that the viewing is over?”

“Yes,” Mr. Fiddler says, already turning to comply. “Take as long as you need.”

Brendan waits for a moment, chuckling under his breath as he listens to a late mourner that is turned away. Bursting into motion, he walks over to me and lifts me into his arms.

“I’m not going to ask you if you’re up to this because you’ll just stab me,” he growls, kissing me hard. “However, know that I’m going to worship you, as you deserve. This has been a rough fucking week.”

“Aye,” I sigh, pulled in by all the Irish brogue I’ve been subjected to the last few hours.

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