Page 42 of Líadan's Code

“I only have one person he can use against me,” I say. “My other niece is the sweetest sugar loving psychopath you’ll ever meet.”

“Are you talking about me?” Líadan pouts from the base of the stairs.

Knowing she only heard part of my sentence, I smirk. “Never, Princess, because I’ll always say it to your face. Enjoy your cake. Save me a piece?”

She looks curiously at me as I get to the bottom of the stairs beside her, and I smile at her. Líadan is easy to smile at. I find her adorable.

“What?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “I think it’s the fact that so many people talk about me behind my back. I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“I was talking about Lenny a second ago, but I guess you two are a lot alike. She went through a really traumatic experience almost six years ago and it changed her,” I tell her. “Her men are just as stabby as she is, so it doesn’t even phase them.”

“Men, you’ve mentioned that before,” she muses. “How many men?”

“Four,” I state. A cab honks loudly outside, making me sigh. “Time to go.”

“It’s fucking cold, Jordan. You can’t waltz outside in that,” Brendan scoffs. “The weather dropped to the teens. They’re suggesting the possibility of snow.”

“Chicago weather is fucking insane,” I mutter. “Just the other day it was sunny and beautiful.”

“This is why I won’t sleep on those days,” Líadan teases me as Brendan grabs a long black coat.

“Seán is a clothes whore and notices clothing, but he hasn’t seen this coat yet,” he says, handing it to me.

I want to refuse it, but the taxi blows the horn, so I give in. There’s an intimacy in wearing someone else’s clothing. Pulling on the coat, I thank him before I pick my bag back up and race out the door.

Keeping Seán waiting wouldn’t be good for my health, I feel.

The taxi drives slowly around to the back of the Irish Flower, and it appears to be a fairly nice club. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the rich brick building with the gorgeous sign was not it.

The glimpses of how pretty the trappings of his life are just makes the darkness so much more interesting.

Seán O’Brien has a rich veneer of respectability over his businesses, and what I’ve been able to dig up shows that all the shady ones are under fake company names. Cloak and dagger and layers of misleading paper trails are firmly on his side.

No one should underestimate this man.

The back door to the club is seedy and decidedly different from the front. Getting out, I walk up to the door, and it opens as I get there. Bruin, the man that picked me up from the warehouse towers on the doorway, his smile more a bearing of teeth than from amusement.

His dark brown hair is wavy and perfect, and in another world he may even be considered handsome if you didn’t know how dangerous he was.

“Took you fooking long enough,” he snarls, shoving me inside. I say nothing, because I can’t control a car ride or the speed it took to get here.

Bruin lets the door slam shut behind us as he walks behind me, yanking me into turns in the bowels of the club. Intermittently, I’ll hear screams from behind a door, and once I saw one of Seán’s goons step outside the room with blood dripping from his fists.

“Lucky fuck,” Bruin says longingly as he gazes at the man’s fists. “I gave up his interrogation to bring you to your room. Ugh, I’m so fooking annoyed. Hey, Fergus, did you get him to talk?”

“Nah, Bruin,” Fergus sighs. “Fooker is buttoned up tighter than a nun’s arsehole in church. I’ll leave him to you once you’re done. Maybe you’ll have better luck. The man should know better than coming and trying to walk in here and cheat when he’s on the family’s shite list.”

Well then.

“Fook yes. Let him cool his heels for a bit then, and I’ll be back. Come along then, Mr. Miles,” Bruin says, walking to the end of this hall and shoving open the door.

Holding back a cringe, I’m expecting something other than the room I see with a steel table, chair, and swinging fluorescent light hanging over it all. It is still giving creepy vibes, but I doubt anything back here is sunshine and rainbows. Lurch continues to stand behind me as I walk inside and place my computer on the table.

“The boss will be by in a bit,” Bruin grunts, letting the door swing closed as he follows me in.

Curiously, I sigh as I pull out the chair and sit down. I doubt whatever he’s about to say or do will be pleasant. His beady eyes gaze at me as he walks closer, his fists clenched. His cruel lips are thin and pinched, making him appear constipated.

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