Page 97 of Mob Saint

Even if Dillan and our family were to relent and relinquish our position, any family who took over from us would invariably seek revenge. It would be punishment for what we’ve done to subjugate those who’ve tested us. They would track us and kill us to ensure we can never return. Whoever assumes the position would need to prove they belong at the top. That only makes us a greater target if we don’t have our men to support us. Our men would see us as nothing but traitors if we walked away since they can’t.

But I would do it if there were even remotely a chance. I would do it to keep any son Tiera and I have from becoming mobsters. It would protect Tiera and any of our daughters from ever becoming potential targets.

It should protect them, but to be honest, being female is no longer a guarantee of safety. And we have no one to blame but members of our own community. That’s the problem. Women were off limits for generations. Then Uncle Donovan and Declan fucked it all up. Shite bags that they were, they got women involved. Now, any woman is a target.

I don’t want to think about that because inevitably, it makes me think about Colleen. And if I think about Colleen, I’ll picture what happened to her. If I picture what happened to her, I’ll think of what might have happened to Tiera. And right now, that’s the last thing I need. I’m forcing my mind not to picture the exact same thing happening to Tiera. My mind keeps trying to imagine her being tortured. It feels like I’ve spent a lifetime compartmentalizing my thoughts and emotions. I need to do that now. I need to be the man I hate to find the woman I love. I need to be a mobster.

God, this is actually taking my dad a long arse time to get back down here. I can’t wait any longer. I force myself to stand, but then my dad appears on the landing.

“Stop, Seamus. I’m here. I’m coming. She’s not up here.” He hurries down the stairs, moving on steadier feet than before. “I’ve looked everywhere. I can see where she put up a struggle because the shower curtain’s ripped, and there are disinfectant spray bottles on the ground. I don’t know if she used them to defend herself or whether they used them to control her.”

“I’d prefer to think that first part. Could she have sprayed their faces?”

“There are more sets of handprints that don’t match each other on the walls and mirror, but none are the right size to be hers. It tells me she fought back, but they outnumbered her.”

Da gets to the bottom of the steps, and we stare at each other. He said aloud what we already know. But we don’t have the finality of him finding her body. I want to believe she walked out on her own and wasn’t carried out because she’s dead. They took the bodies of their own men we killed. I know Cormac killed two, and my dad got one. I’m sure I got at least one.

They came with a squad of men. They knew Tiera wasn’t alone. They knew at least my dad, if not Cormac and I, were here.

Was this all planned? Or was it a coincidence?

Did they think they needed nine men to pull one woman out of her home?

If they believed it was only Da and Tiera, did they think they needed that many for a man and a woman?

Did they do it to eliminate a third of my family?

Did they know I was here?

Did they wait until they saw all three of us here?

I don’t know. I sure as fuck want to find out.

My dad and I sit in silence, watching Cormac’s shallow breathing, knowing it’s going to take time for my family to get here. They know we’re not at my place, so they’ll have to track us to Tiera’s condo. I don’t know if they’ll come together as one because they were already at my place, or if they will come in their own vehicles. They’ll know it’s not a coincidence that all three of our signals are going off. Not being able to reach any of us by phone means the situation truly is dire.

I shake Cormac again, and this time he groans. But he still doesn't wake, and he’s still losing blood. Da eases him onto his side, so I can examine his injury. When I peel away my dad’s shirt he wadded up and put beneath Cormac’s injured shoulder—they fucking shot him in the back—the blood isn’t coming out as fast as I feared. There’s nothing we can do but wait until the others arrive.

It feels like hours pass, and I keep an eye on my watch. Forty-five minutes from when I first pressed the alert. It’s only a moment after I check my watch for at least the thirtieth time that my family bursts through the door with guns ready to shoot anybody or anything in sight. Dillan’s the first through the door. He never leads from behind. He’ll never send anybody out to do a job he isn’t willing to do himself.

Finn is right behind him because they always pair together, and Finn’s his second-in-command. They’re the only ones without a brother to pair with. Dillan’s never had brothers, and Finn’s brothers came as a matching set. It’s meant Dillan and Finn have always been together. They’re also older than the rest of us by a couple years, so they started training before us. Sean and Shane enter the condo with their backs toward me and with their guns raised, ready to shoot anyone who approaches from behind.

Once all four of them are inside, they rush to put their guns back in their holsters and run toward us. Sean drops onto his knees as he goes to examine Cormac. He and Shane both trained as paramedics while they were in college. They keep their certifications up to date. But it’s been a long time since either of them has had to use their training on a gunshot wound in the field. I hate that it’s on my big brother.

Dillan looks around before he looks at me. “What the fuck happened here?”

“I don’t know why they came or where they went, but they took Tiera. They broke in while I was upstairs with her.”

“Cormac and I were here. We don’t know who it was. There were no distinguishing marks on them except for some fake NYPD badges on their arms. They didn’t look like anybody we would recognize. They didn’t speak at all. Not even a word. Not even a hint. They clearly knew who was here and what they came for. They’d already decided who would go for Tiernan and who would stay behind.”

I don’t remember any of what my dad just said. None of it sounds familiar, but I know he wouldn’t make any of that up. I still can’t remember whether or not they spoke. Whether or not they made any hand signals. That makes me feel even more incompetent and incapable because I didn’t notice the things my dad did.

Sean turns to me and holds out his phone so I can see the contact on the screen. I hear it ringing. He’s calling our doctor. I look at Shane.

“Can we move him? Can we get him home?”

“We should wait for Meridith to get here. He isn’t bleeding that much, but he’s already lost a lot of blood. If we move him, it could make the wound worse. I don’t think we should risk doing that. If Meridith says it’s okay, then we will. But I think she’s going to need to stitch him up first. At the very least, he needs an IV.”

I have to accept what Shane tells me. I know he’s not exaggerating. I know it’s the truth. And I can’t put my needs above my brother’s. Even if it means it takes more time to find Tiera. It’s pure agony as I listen to Sean talk to our retired British Navy physician. She’s a surgeon and has been patching us up for as long as I can remember. She came on board just before my grandfather died, so I was still a teenager. She’s patched up my dad and my uncles too many times. If she’s good enough for them, she sure as hell is good enough for me.

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