Page 103 of Mob Saint

I hope he’s right. I’ve always known I was the little brother even if we couldn’t be much closer in age short of being real twins. He’s seven months older than me, but I used to look up to him when we were really young. That was before I realized we were the same size and could do the same things because we’ve pretty much been developmentally at the same stage our entire lives. I was lucky as fuck that being a preemie by nearly nine weeks didn’t cause me any lasting health issues. Nowadays, I give him shite for being the older brother but not being stronger or faster than me. But this is one time I pray he’s right. The one time I want my big brother to know more than I do.

“You know I’m coming with you, right? I’ll be the one Mom’s skelping if your pretty face comes back with even a scratch.”

I stare down at my idiot brother. “The feck you are. You were unconscious until ten minutes ago. You nearly bled to death.”

“There’s that melodramatic side again. You should have done theatre in high school. I was napping. I needed to get my strength back. I’m not staying behind, Seamus.”

Our expressions match. Mulishness we inherited from the very woman who scares the shite out of us. We jest—sorta. Our mom and aunts are beautiful middle-aged women who laugh a lot and smell like flowers. They’re also the most competitive rugby players I have ever met. They will take you out at the kneecaps, then help you up.

Before Tiera, no one could make the world right again like my mom. I know the other guys feel the same way about their moms, even if it’s morphed a bit for the married guys. But heaven help us when our moms are mad at us. I’d rather go ten rounds in the ring with golden glove boxer Maksim Kutsenko.

“You’ve lost your fecking mind. Da, tell him he’s not going.”

I look over my shoulder at our dad, who’s texting someone.

“He can come as long as he stays with the plane.” Our dad’s only half paying attention.

“Da, no!” Cormac doesn’t agree. Shocking.

“Would you like me to send you home?” This time, Da looks up.

I can see his expression, but Cormac can’t. I widen my eyes, warning Cormac to stay quiet. He doesn’t take the hint. He grabs the back of the seat and the side, pushing himself to sit up. He goes puce.

“I am not letting my brother go without me. We’ve never been on missions without each other. It doesn’t start today. I’m not having it.”

I swallow my smile since he sounds like we did when we were five, and everyone discovered our tempers matched our hair. I look at Da, and he cocks an eyebrow. I pinch Cor’s right ribs, but he shifts away. He’s about to give Sean a run for his money as the stubbornest in the family.

“You are not leaving me behind.”

Da shakes his head and goes back to texting. That only pisses Cormac off more.

“Can’t you pay attention for two minutes? I’m going.”

“I’m busy getting your uncles to round up my gear and meet us at the airport.”

“What?” Six voices say the same word at the same time.

“Da, you can’t go either. You have a mild concussion.” I shake my head.

“Would you like me to send your cousins to find your girlfriend? Don’t argue.”

I scowl, but I wisely turn away from my dad before he can see. I have more sense than Cormac. I’m thirty-fucking-two years old, and I still take orders from my dad. I know that’ll never change, but he really would bar me from going if he thought I was a danger to myself or the others. He’ll let Cormac go, and none of us will disagree. But we’ll all insist my brother waits at the plane. He’ll have a conniption, but it’s the only compromise any of us will make. I’m certain Cor knows that.

If Da’s getting Uncle Ronan and Uncle Tate involved, he believes we need them. They don’t go on missions that often anymore, but they can. They’re still in as good shape as any of my generation are. They have more experience than us, so we still listen to their advice. We all follow their lead when they’re with us. Even Dillan, who’s our boss, follows behind his dad and uncles. If Da’s getting his brothers, he wants to make sure no one walks away but us. He’s also doing it so Tiera and I and the rest of the world know she’s an O’Rourke now. She’s as good as his daughter, and he’ll burn the entire fucking world down to protect his kids.

I look back at him and nod. He offers me a tight smile, but he reaches out and covers my hand where it’s resting on the seat back to keep it from bumping Cormac. He gives it a squeeze, and I have a moment of certainty that everything will be all right just like he said. I keep looking forward, wondering where the fuck my cailín is. I learned from the best. There won’t even be ashes left of whoever did this.

Finn drove us to Dillan’s house to grab our gear and let the airport know to get Shane’s plane ready. While we were on the road—and I bickered with my dad and brother—Sean was combing through whatever it is he finds when he’s piecing together someone’s life history. He’s sitting at Dillan’s dining room table with his laptop and portable trifold monitors. No one’s disturbing him while he works, but the rest of us are discussing what the mission will look like. Cormac’s finally gotten his way, and Da and I relented that he could come without further argument. He admitted he wasn’t up to anything more than waiting by the vehicle once we get wherever we’re going. It’s actually the most important job. If anything happens to our vehicles, and we have no way of leaving, it’s usually a pretty sure death sentence.

I put my foot down when they turned the tables and tried to tell me I couldn’t lead this mission, that I should hang back too because of my head and thigh. The fuck I am. I looked at every married man in the room—so everyone except Cormac and Shane—and asked them if they planned to hang back when it’s their wife’s turn to get rescued. None of them appreciated me insinuating something would happen to the women they love. I raised my eyebrows as if to say, “See? Try to stop me.”

“You won’t believe this shite.”

We all turn to Sean as he looks up from his computer.

“Guess who’s on the O’Brien payroll.”

“I’m not in the mood to guess. Hurry up and spit it out.” I’m not in the mood for anything but revenge and holding Tiera.

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