Page 93 of Mob Saint

“If I didn’t know Aaron died in the car next to me, I’d swear that was him. If I hadn’t seen his body, been at the funeral, I’d swear it was him.”

I take the phone from Seamus’s hand, pulling it away from where it pressed against my ass. I enlarge the photo and breathe easier. Zoomed in, I can tell who it is.

“That’s Aaron’s cousin, Jude.” Judas?

“He was snooping around here. Judas?”

“I just thought the same thing. I don’t know why he’d be here. I haven’t seen him in three years. Not since the funeral. I’d only left the hospital the day before. Aaron’s parents delayed the funeral because I wasn’t well enough to make any plans. They wanted me to be there because they knew it was important to me. We buried—they’re together.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale deeply.

“He and Aaron weren’t close or anything. Jude grew up in Kansas City, Kansas. We met at the wedding and the funeral. Otherwise, we got Christmas cards his wife probably sent.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s a high school guidance counselor. I can’t think of any reason for him to be here. His and Aaron’s moms are sisters, but Jude’s family still lives in Kansas City. Their shared grandparents are dead and have been for a decade. It makes no sense to me.”

“Is it the photo, or do they look that much alike in real life?”

“The photo makes them look more similar, but it’s clear they’re related if you knew Aaron. Daddy, why would he be here? He didn’t come to my door.”

I didn’t plan to call Seamus that, but I feel inordinately vulnerable right now and need his reassurance.

“I don’t know why, but my cousin will investigate.”

“Do you think it’s a coincidence that he was here to visit someone else, and I live here?”

He hesitates to answer before he shakes his head. “One of our men followed him up the stairs to the roof. He looked around for five minutes before coming back down to check all the doors.”

“He never saw someone following him?”

“No one sees them unless they want to be seen.”

I live in a duplex condo. They’re not typical in New York, but I was thrilled to find the two-story condo. It’s not a loft but a proper two floors with three bedrooms. I have the feeling of a house without all the maintenance. But right now, I’m wishing I had a single-family structure like I once did with an alarm system for the entire place, including the back gate. Clearly, my good Samaritan neighbors trust anyone. I wish I had a place without other people living truly on top of me.

“Can we go right now?” I’m scared.

“Yes.”

He’s ready to help me up, but I’m not ready to let go. My fear outweighs my wish to leave and never come back if there’s been someone poking around my home. Again. Knowing there’s nothing here right now that’s recording us tempts me to insist we don’t go outside.

“Little one, my dad, Cormac, and I will be with you. One of the men we trust most, Joey, is also here. He’s guarded my cousin Finn’s wife plenty of times. He’s good at what he does.”

I doubt I want to know exactly what he does. I nod, but I still don’t get up. I have to talk myself into it while Seamus rubs my back. With a fortifying breath, I rise. He follows me and hugs me again. With a kiss on the forehead because he understands I need affection and courage right now, I head to the door. We don’t make it to the landing before my front door practically explodes. It flies open with an enforcer following it. The police-style battering ram weighs about twenty-five pounds, but a strong enough person can pack far more power into it with momentum.

Gunshots follow immediately. I can’t see who’s shooting. Seamus wraps his arm around my waist and hauls me off my feet as he draws his gun from behind him. He uses his broader body to shield me as he pushes me into my bedroom.

“Lock this door, then go in the bathroom and lock that door. Get in the shower. Now.”

He leaves me inside the door, and I scramble to lock it. He speaks through it once he knows I’ve secured it.

“Stay there unless it’s me, Cormac, or Da. No one else. I don’t care what they say. Only the three of us.”

“Yes, Daddy.” The words tumble from my lips, but I don’t know what I’m saying. I just tell myself it won’t be long before one of the three men comes to get me. I bolt to the bathroom, locking that door too. I crouch in the tub with the shower curtain pulled. I can still hear the gunfire. I wonder what my neighbors must think. Maybe they’re all at work, so no one hears. Maybe they’ll think I’m watching a noisy action movie.

Furniture crashes, and I hear feet running but no voices. There are still gunshots. Wouldn’t pros use silencers? Or is that just in movies? Hell, if I know. I never asked Aaron about that kind of shit.

Someone’s banging on my bedroom door. I wait for a voice to call out to me. My name. Anything.

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