Page 17 of Winds of War

“No, wait.” Desperation dripped from Montemayor's voice as he also left his seat, trying to somehow block Seamus's way. “I apologize for earlier. I didn't mean for it to sound like I don't trust you. Please, let's talk some more. Well, you'll talk and I'll listen,” the gangster corrected himself in a humble voice. “But first, let's all have some refreshments, and please accept my apologies for being such a bad host.”

Seamus approved with a grunt and a nod, returning to his place, followed by Spyros and Van, who were very credible as the drug dealing kingpin's advisor and bodyguard. Three servants carrying huge trays stepped into the room and started to arrange the plates with refreshments on the coffee tables they placed in front of all the guests.

Van took a plate from the stack on one of the coffee tables, filled it with cookies, biscuits, and mini-sandwiches and offered it to Seamus while Spyros poured iced tea from a carafe into a large glass, putting it in front of his “boss.” Released from their duty, the two finally started to eat, stopping from time to time to cast quick glances around the room.

When she stepped into the room and saw Van behind Seamus's armchair wearing a pristine white shirt and light-blue dress pants, Lauren Briggs couldn't believe her eyes. It took all the woman's self-control not to fall into the man's strong, muscular arms and ask him to kill Montemayor right then and there.

As she munched on a cookie, Lauren studied Van from under her thick, long, arched lashes and liked very much what she saw. Life hasn't been easy for the man in the almost nineteen years that passed since she last saw him, and the woman could tell that by the edges, wrinkles, and lines on Van's face, which only added to his sexiness.

Lauren hoped the crazy, stupid Mexican gangster would become her ex-lover's boss's associate so she could see more of him. The woman needed time to rekindle the old flame, seduce the man, and bring him into her bed again. Once she got Van addicted to her hot body again, convincing him to help her would be the easiest thing in the world. Lauren smiled inwardly.

Coming here was a huge mistake, Cahal thought, looking in Seamus's direction and praying for Montemayor to have a sudden change of mind about becoming the drug lord's associate. Calm, composed, and smooth-talking, Seamus was the most dangerous of the two, or at least that's how Cahal perceived him.

“That's more like it,” Seamus broke the silence. “Thank you for the refreshments. Everything was great.” He rubbed his belly, a smile of satisfaction tugging at the corner of his lips. “Now, back to business.” The drug lord turned to Montemayor, his expression becoming stern. “Lots of money, little to no risks, one condition. How does it sound?”

“It's...great, really,” the Mexican gangster answered, enthusiasm and worry mixing in his voice. “Can you tell me please more about this condition?”

“My friend wants us to dedicate all our time and resources to this project and considers any other activity as a total waste of time, incompatible with this job.” The confusion on Montemayor's face made Seamus smile benevolently. “I'm talking about the street war you are encouraging. It won't do anyone any good, long or short term.”

The Mexican gang leader let out a long, heavy sigh, shaking his head. “As your friend wishes, but the street war would have been our only chance to take Ardan-Fucking-MacNamara down. With his traditional allies too busy to watch their own backs, he would be dead meat.”

I...I know a way to get rid of that bastard once and for all,” Cahal dared to speak, shrinking into the armchair under Seamus's scrutinizing stare. “Without him, the whole organization he runs will crash down like a castle of cards.”

“Please, share with the class.” Montemayor rubbed his hands in anticipation, an evil smile forming on his face. “Who knows, you may turn out to be smarter than your old man.”

“I...thank you very much”—Cahal dipped his head in the Mexican's direction—“and I hope you'll let me demonstrate how smart I am. MacNamara would willingly sacrifice himself if one of his children would be in danger. Let's say that I planted someone in there, and this person is instructed to win one of the MacNamara's older sons out of the enclosed perimeter.”

“You have a brilliant mind indeed, and I'm proud to welcome you in my family and call you my friend.” Montemayor opened his arms in a theatrical gesture. “Same for you, my valuable associate.” He gave Seamus a lovesick puppy look.

“Oh, thank you for reminding me. I brought you twenty pounds of the finest stuff produced in my labs as a sign of appreciation. I don't need money for it.” the drug lord waved his hand dismissively. “One more thing,” Seamus continued, jubilating at the thought that the Mexican took the bait. “My friend has some special tastes, and I want to offer him a present. I was wondering if you can help me with that.”

“It will be my pleasure.” Montemayor rubbed his hands again. “What exactly are the distinguished gentleman's preferences?”

“Male, fifteen to sixteen, no younger, no older; longish hair; seductive lips; pretty eyes; delicate construction. I want to see the available models myself, as I'm willing to spend up to two hundred thousand dollars,” Seamus nonchalantly spoke, making Montemayor gasp in surprise.

“I have exactly what you need,” the Mexican informed his new associate in a cheerful voice, then turned to Cahal. “You look very tired. I'll tell the housekeeper to get one of the guest rooms ready for you. Once again, welcome into the family. Next time, I want you to bring that beautiful boyfriend of yours here. I look forward to...meeting him.” Montemayor let out a loud laugh, patting Cahal on the back.

CHAPTER 14

No, this is all wrong, very wrong, Cahal thought, plopping down the bed in one of the Montemayor villa's guest rooms. It was supposed to be so simple. He made the Mexican eat from his hand, then the pile of garbage said he wanted to meet Evon, and everything went downhill at warp speed. Or at least, it will, when I tell the motherfucker that it would only happen when the hell will freeze over.

Like always, Cahal didn't despair. He put the little cogs inside his head to work, making efforts to find a way out of the situation that he’d been cornered into by himself. For a brief moment, Nigel Warthon's son considered an alliance with Seamus MacAtee, but, as he initially suspected, that one was just as bad as Montemayor, if not worse.

Cahal witnessed the man buying a boy and paying two hundred thousand dollars for him. The piece of shit treated a human being, a kid, like any other purchase. He shivered at the thought, the image of the fragile teen staring blankly ahead, and shivering etched in Cahal's memory. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind, making his blood freeze.

Evon. His beautiful, kind, pure fiancé was in that horrible place called The Base, Ardan MacNamara's headquarters. Rumors were that a lot of children of all ages were brought there, but only a few were seen leaving the structure surrounded by a thick, tall wall. Cahal saw more than once Nigel Warthon shivering at the simple mention of the place’s name, and that one was the toughest, meanest son of the bitch the boy had ever met.

It's all my fault, Cahal thought, falling on the bed and curling into the fetal position as tears started to fall from his eyes, soaking into the pillow. He knew all the horror stories about The Base yet hid the truth from Evon and sent him there to be shred to pieces by the guards, in fact beasts in human form.

After a while, Cahal's sobs finally died down and the tears stopped falling. Eyes shut tightly, the boy let out a shuddering breath. This is it, there won't be peace for us or a place we can call home. Balling his hands into fists, the boy decided to go back to New York City and try to free Evon from the hell he sent him into. If I can't do that, at least we would die together, he thought aloud, serenity taking over his features.

“Drink this. It will help you to calm down, relax, and sleep a bit.” The soft voice with a tinge of sadness made Cahal jump out of his skin and stare in terror at Seamus, who was standing at the edge of the bed, a mug in hand. “It's herbal tea, the blend is unique, well-known for its many curative properties.”

“How did you...who let you in and when? I don't need your spiced-up tea that would knock me out so you can...” Cahal violently shook his head. “Leave me alone, please. Is that poor kid you bought not enough for you?”

Seamus sighed softly, putting the mug on the nightstand. “You can drink it later if you want. Speaking of Ravyn, I came to ask you a huge favor and also to beg you to spare the lives of my fiancé, his family, and all my friends. Their fate is in your hands.” Dropping his gaze, Seamus knelt at the foot of the bed.

“Wait, I...” Cahal tentatively touched the man's shoulder, then curled his fingers one by one. “Who's Ravyn, and why do you think I have life and death power over your fiancé and friends? I don't even know them.”

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