Page 110 of Mob Saint

“Don’t struggle. If I leave a bruise on you because you fought me, Seamus will castrate me. I have plans tonight.”

“He’ll kill you.”

“He’s tried, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Seriously, Tiernan. Stop fighting me. I’m stronger than you. You will go where I want. I don’t want to hurt you to do it.

I keep resisting, so he scoops me over his shoulder. He’s the same size as his cousin and brothers, so he’s by no means a small man. But he’s not the same as Seamus and Cormac. He’s more like a normal sized mobster. My guess is the same size as Seamus’s cousins. It shocks me how easily he lifts me since he doesn’t strike me as a man as strong as Seamus. I guess he is.

“I will spank you if you kick me one more time.”

“You wouldn’t dare. If you really take me to Seamus, I’ll tell him you touched me inappropriately.”

I can’t believe I’m saying that. It sounds fucking ridiculous. It is fucking ridiculous. I refuse to give up my struggle. I won’t go any more willingly with him than I did the other men who took me. They forced me to walk past Seamus, then they put a sack over my head. I couldn’t see anything until the light came on in the factory.

I realize Javier’s told me Seamus is alive. Alejandro did too. I can’t remember what Darren said, but maybe he gave that away as well. I knew he couldn’t be dead. I refused to believe he was. I’m certain I would have known in my marrow if he was dead. God, does he think I am? Does he think he’s trying to recover my body rather than rescue me?

“Primo, cuidado. Silba y araña como un puma.” Cousin, watch out. She hisses and scratches like a puma.

Javier chuckles as we approach a man who is Seamus’s size. He’s burly like Seamus, but where Seamus is fair, this man is even more olive skinned than Alejandro and Javier. Cousin? Is this man Alejandro’s brother? They look as much alike as Javier did Alejandro.

“Ms. Furey—” Another Spanish New York accent. “—Seamus will be here soon. Don’t make us lock you in the vehicle. We can’t leave the key in there to keep the air conditioning on. It will get hot fast.”

“If you want to lock me in there like a dog, you’ll find out fast just how big a bitch I am.”

The new guy has the audacity to laugh aloud. I feel Javier’s shoulders shake with his silent mirth. I pull my left foot back and swing it into his junk as he lowers me. He drops me, and I tumble backwards. The unnamed man catches me, and his hold is as gentle as Javier’s was when he first grabbed my arm.

“She’s not going to give Seamus a chance to castrate me. I think she broke my huevos.”

Eggs… He means nuts. Balls. Gonads. My aim is excellent.

“Ms. Furey, I’m Pablo Diaz. I’m el tigre. I know your father is in the mob. Do you know what that means?”

“The tiger. You must be pretty high up.”

“I am. I’m my tío’s heir. My men call me el patron. My official position is el secretario. The only person more senior to me is my uncle who’s jefe de jefes. Boss of bosses.”

“I know who he is. I can’t believe he’d sanction you selling me to Seamus or anyone else.”

“Ms. Furey, no one is selling you. My cousin said that to make Darren hand you over. I’m certain whatever he said made your skin crawl. He’s very believable.”

“If that’s the case, he’s a psychopath.”

Javier and Pablo laugh again. I see nothing funny about any of this. Pablo shakes his head, but he’s still smiling when he responds.

“Señorita, we laugh because the O’Rourkes say the same thing about him. About all of us. They are the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Pablo, tenemos que darnos prisa.” We need to hurry up.

“Yo hablo español.” I speak Spanish.

“Then you understand we need to leave and get to a meeting point. Seamus won’t want you to see?—”

Javier has no chance to finish when an SUV that must seat eight pulls up. I don’t know if they didn’t see us or what, but O’Rourkes spill out of every door. I recognize Seamus immediately. I struggle against Javier and try to call out to Seamus. But Javier’s hand goes over my mouth, and his arm is a steel bar around my middle.

“You missed your chance to leave. You can’t distract him. There are more men than you saw. You’re about to see what I’m certain Seamus prayed you never would.”

Javier tries to turn me toward him, but I won’t budge. Pablo steps in and tries to help. My foot kicks out and lands against the outside of Pablo’s ankle. He pulls it back, and I take advantage of his momentary shift in balance. I throw my weight sideways as best I can while pushing against Javier’s waist. I break his hold and swing my right fist, striking Pablo’s throat since I can’t reach higher. My elbow goes to Javier’s nose.

Neither of them expects me to be as fast as I am. Nor do they expect me to be as agile as I weave away from them. It probably looks like I’m chasing an imaginary soccer ball. I’m nearly to the O’Rourkes vehicle—which I intend to lock myself into—when I hear the howls of pain. The muted sounds of gunshots reach my ears, and the ping of bullets hitting metal reverberates in the surrounding air.

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