Page 107 of Mob Bride

“Ní fheicim tada. Aon duine eile?” I don’t see anything. Anyone else?

“Enough conspiring.”

It’s an agent who manhandled Sean. I stare at him, and he senses me because he shifts to look at me. I memorize his face. I see the moment he realizes just how greatly he erred. It won’t be today. It won’t be tomorrow. It won’t even be in a month. It’ll be when he grows complacent. When he thinks I’ve forgotten about him. That’s when I’ll strike. No one touches my baby brother.

“Má thagann sé chuici, fanann sibh go léir léi.” If it comes to it, all of you stay with her.

Sean looks at me, and we smile. It unnerves all the agents, especially when he sounds exactly like I just did.

“Beidh mo chúpla agus mé go breá. Cosain mo dheirfiúr.” My twin and I’ll be fine. Protect my sister.

No one but my family sees my relief. They accept Carrie because she’s important to me. But I just got their blessing. They’d never stand in our way if we get more serious, and they’d want us to be happy. This is different. They consider her one ofus already. When they protect her, it’s not out of duty because she’s a woman or out of obligation to me. It’s because she’s family.

“Speak English.” It’s the driver from my car.

I squeeze Carrie’s pinky again, as the men in my family and I laugh.

“Is dóigh liom go bhfuil muid ag cur brú orthu.” I think we’re pissing them off.

Cormac’s dry tone only adds to the agents’ annoyance since none of them understand us. This is precisely the reason my family speaks Gaelic and will continue to speak it for as long as we’re in the mob. That means every generation until the Rapture.

We all speak Spanish, which isn’t questionable in NYC. Everyone here speaks at least a little Spanish and a healthy dose of Yiddish. But we went way beyond that. All of us speak additional languages. We’re all close to fluent in Italian and Russian. We’ve added Hebrew, Chinese, Arabic, Polish, Albanian, Japanese, and German to our family repertoire. All the places we either do business or give us trouble.

Sean learned French because of a girl he liked. She dumped his arse for being evasive, uncommunicative, and unemotional. Shocking. He still enjoys those shitty arthouse films, though. Nikki claims she likes them. I think he tortures her with them since she’s a native French speaker.

Sean beats me to it with his next question. “An bhfuil a fhios ag ár dtuismitheoirí?” Do our parents know?

Seamus grins, and now all the agents are certain we’re conspiring or criminally insane. “Bhí mé le Mam agus Da nuair a fuair muid an foláireamh. Bhí Da ar an bhfón le do cheann. Fuair sé an foláireamh freisin. D’iompaigh sé amach. Tá ár n-aithreacha ag glaoch i bhfabhar. Tá ár uncail eile ag dul chuig a tuismitheoirí.” I was with Mom and Da when we got the alert.Da was on the phone with yours. He got the alert, too. He flipped out. Our dads are calling in favors. Our other uncle’s going to her parents.

The non-Gaelic speakers probably picked up Mam and Da—we usually use Mom, but in Irish, it translates to Mam—and figured out we’re talking about our parents, or at least Seamus and Cormac’s. “Our other uncle” means Dillan’s dad, Uncle Tate.

Calling in favors means these wankers are going to be riding their desks or unemployed by morning. I’d feel sorry for them if they hadn’t touched my woman and my brother.

Carrie leans harder against me. I know not understanding bothers her. Probably frightens her more than anything, but it’s the only way my cousins, Sean, and I can communicate right now.

“Is dócha go bhfaighidh muid saor í roimh ceachtar agaibh. Cad ba mhaith leat dúinn a dhéanamh?” We’ll probably get her free before either of you. What do you want us to do?

Dillan has a point. Even though they claim they’re after her, once they have two mobsters in for questioning, they won’t let us go. They’ll hold us for the full forty-eight hours. They might do the same to Carrie, but I don’t think so. I believe they’ll want to see where she goes next. Somehow, they knew she was with me at my place. My guess is they followed Meredith and Rhys or tracked their cars. When they went to Sean’s, they figured she was there too. When everyone else left, but they didn’t see me, it probably confirmed she and I were staying at Sean’s.

“Rwyf am i chi fynd at fy rhieni.” I want you to go to my parents.

My accent is atrocious, but from the way Carrie tenses, then relaxes against me, I know she understood. I told no one I started learning a little Welsh when I met her. I needed something to occupy my time while I watched her. When she said she spoke it as a kid, I doubled my efforts.

“Nid yw hynny'n ddiogel iddynt.” That’s not safe for them.

She speaks slowly, ensuring I can follow what she says.

“Maen nhw'n gwybod mai dyna sydd fwyaf diogel i mi.” They know that’s safest for me.

I won’t lose my shite if I know she’s with them.

I’m confident with my grammar, but I don’t know if she can understand my shite accent. I thought about investing in a decent language program, but I’m nearly as frugal as Finn. If this doesn’t work out, then I’d rather use YouTube videos to teach me a language I won’t need.

Because little brothers are a pain in the arse, Sean snickers at me. “Tú asal saor. Fuaimeann tú cosúil le cac. Íocfaidh mé as do chlár ríomhaire dúr don Nollaig.” You cheap arse. You sound like shite. I'll pay for your stupid computer program for Christmas.

“Conas a bheadh a fhios agat?” How would you know?

I sound more contentious than I mean.

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