Page 104 of Mob Saint

“Sam Wilkes. The fucker’s double-dipping. He’s been leaking info to Gareth for months. He’s the one who dispatched the police to swoop up Mitchell. Gareth wants to pin us on the NYPD’s radar and to cost us money to get them to lay off. Money Wilkes will invariably snag, then split between O’Briens and himself.”

“Does he have anything to do with whoever’s been bugging Tiera’s place, work, and car? He’d have access to the high-end surveillance equipment.”

“He’s the shite to someone, but I don’t know that it’s connected. I don’t recognize the name.”

I walk over to peer over Sean’s shoulder. He points to a name, and I want to throw something. Motherfucker. His death is going to be slow and excruciating. It might be the worst torture I’ve ever committed. My pulse throbs in my ears.

“I need a moment.”

I ignore everyone else and head out Dillan’s French doors to the backyard. I pace for a moment while I breathe.

You can’t lose your shite. You can’t lose your shite. If you lose your fucking shite, you can’t think straight. You need to get to Tiera. Calm your arse down.

I talk to myself, trying to push back the rage. It’s no use. I walk over to the rocks around a rose bush and pick one up. I hurl it as far as I can, as hard as I can. It whizzes through the air and sails halfway down a long backyard. I throw two more before I spend the urge to crush something. I head back inside to eight faces watching me. My uncles met us here, their go bags and my dad’s waiting by the door. Clothes, money, passports, and weapons. We can travel light.

“He’s someone from Tiera’s past that’s taken advantage of her at her most vulnerable. He’s betrayed her for years. She trusted her wellbeing to him, and he’s been abusing her all along, and she never knew it.”

At their confused expressions, I grit my teeth. I don’t want to reveal anything about Tiera’s private life. I try to devise a way to hint at it without actually giving anything away. The longer I look at everyone the more it dawns on them without me having to say.

I don’t want to know about my parents or aunts and uncles, but I know all the men in my generation have similar proclivities. I’ve heard some of the wives call their husbands Daddy, and I suspect it’s for the same reason Tiera does. I know for a fact none of them are Daddy Doms, and only Sean, Cormac, and I have had long-term subs.

The others—including my dad and uncles—ew—nod their understanding. At least I don’t have to say it.

“What’s his address, Sean?”

He rattles off a place in Astoria that’s a half an hour from Forest Hills on a good day, assuming there isn’t too much traffic.

“Are you certain about Wilkes’s involvement?”

“Yeah. I traced the money, calls, and texts. They all lead to this guy.”

“I want Wilkes at the station.” I look at Dillan when I speak.

He nods and pulls out his phone. He’ll make sure Sam Wilkes is strung up naked and afraid until I get around to dealing with him. I want to know more from Sean.

“What about this fuck wad? Is he the one extorting Gareth?”

“It looks like it. But I don’t know why. He’s good at covering his tracks. There are only a few things linking them together, and it’s vague at best. But I’m certain there’s a connection.”

“Then that’s where we go first.”

No one questions it. Instead, we suit up in our black tactical gear. Our moms, Ally, Nikki, and Mair were hanging out in the family room while we met in the dining room. Even with Dillan’s spacious study, it still gets tight with all nine of us in there. We each take up a lot of space. The dining room is like our board room when our dads are here too.

I watch my parents say goodbye. I’ve always thought it was sweet, but now I have a pang of jealousy that’s only amplified when I watch Aunt Siobhan and Uncle Tate, Aunt Saoirse and Uncle Ronan, Dillan and Mair, Finn and Ally, and Sean and Nikki. I don’t want to leave Tiera behind to go off to do God knows what. But I want to know I have her to come home to.

“Soon, cousin.”

I turn to look at Shane. He offers me an understanding smile and nod. I return it before walking to my parents. My mom wraps her arms around Cormac and me as best she can. I feel Cormac sigh the same as I do when our arms go around each other too. My dad is behind us, making a sandwich with my brother and me in the middle. I know my cousins are getting the same from their parents. We try to never leave on missions without this moment as a family. We all know how easily it could be our last.

Husbands and wives exchange one last hug and kiss before we pile into an SUV Shane drives. I look out the front passenger window as we wind our way through Queens. I shoot off texts to Brant and Gareth, telling them we have a person of interest we need to check out before we fly down there. We could be cat burglars for how quietly we creep up the stairs to the fourth floor. Sean slides a camera beneath the door, which isn’t easy since there’s a rug right inside. He looks at the image on this wrist display. He holds it out for us to see.

The living room and kitchen are empty. We spotted the shit bag’s car in the garage as we sneaked in. But that doesn’t guarantee he’s home. He’s more likely to use public transportation than drive. I pull out my lock picking set and jiggle the tools until the bolt turns. I slide the packet into my cargo pants’ pocket. With our weapons at the ready, I ease the door open. We pour into the condo. Cormac’s downstairs with the SUV, so I’m paired with my dad. I point toward what I’m sure is the main bedroom.

When we get to the door, I hear a woman moan. Fucking hell. I press my earpiece, barely whispering when I let the others know.

“Titim ar ais. Níl sé ina aonar.” Fall back. He’s not alone.

“Sir.”

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