Page 108 of Crush

“Sean told me to let him in. He said he was involved in some shit that went off the other week? Said you’d want to see him,” his minion replied as they stood outside the door.

That shit would have been Leonie’s rescue.

“I could have seen him in the yard, not up here. And you left him alone in myoffice, are you fucking retarded?” Kinlan barked, unimpressed.

“Sean suggested you’d need to see him in private.”

“Why would I need to see him in private? Do I not trust my staff?” I could feel Kinlan’s eyes on me as I scrolled through my phone, surely, they knew I couldhear them? The door creaked and from their footfall, they both stepped into the room.

“Yes, but—I was only following Sean’s orders,” he replied in a glum voice. Did they know I could hear them?

Kinlan released a tortured sigh before he said, “Hamish, remind me why I haven’t had you killed yet?”

Fuck, my heart thumped against my rib cage and I peered up, pocketing my phone.

“My old man?” the fat prick, ‘Hamish’ said with uncertainty.

Kinlan’s eyes met mine and he shook his head in despair, “Precisely. Get out of my sight.”

The order was curt and one that would no doubt be followed. I wanted to join the poor motherfucker on his way out. My courage was fading fast as I shared air with someone so dangerous.

The atmosphere in the room crackled as Kinlan pushed the door closed with some force. God I could use a smoke.

As I watched him stalk around his office moving past me, I took him in. He was a swarthy sod, tall and well-built and covered in tats but he wasn’t as big as me or as mean-looking. The new Mafia boss carried an intenseness though; one which would probably make the toughest character shit themselves. He was still a thug; just one who wore made-to-measure suits from Gieves & Hawkes.

Did he evertrulysmile? I’d seen a version of it when he’d kidnapped Leonie that day, but it was more of the sick and twisted kind. I imagined even Luca’s fart jokes would do little to entice this man to humour.

My mind drifted to that story Gabriel had shared from when they were at school together. The one about Kai being expelled for biting another boy’s ear off; until Gerard had pressured the Head of the school to take him back. Fuck!

As he stopped at the opposite side of the desk to me, our gazes locked and he tossed his phone and keys onto the surface without breaking eye contact. Talking of breaking, I wondered how many legs this guy had done that too.

“Mr Kinlan,” I said respectfully, offering him my hand. His eyes dropped to my raised fingers and then back to my face before he lowered himself into his seat. He ignored my offered handshake, and I lowered my arm. Yep, there was no doubt about it. This man was now as diabolical as his father had been. Much more danger radiated off him now than that day at the vault.

I glanced around. “Your office is quite nice. I’m surprised,” I complimented, attempting to forget about the dodgy stain. His mouth curled slightly but his face was expressionless.

“What did you expect, thumbscrews and dead bodies?”

“Something like that,” I replied dryly. There was a beat of silence as Kinlan’s phone vibrated and started to shuffle across the table by itself. He glanced down at it before plucking it to his ear and holding a finger to his lips to motion for me to stay silent.

“Sean, this better be important,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. His expression was blank, givingnothingaway as he listened to the guy on the other end of the phone. I glanced around his office, trying to look like I couldn’t give two shits who he was talking to.

“Yes, that’s what I said. He did? That will be the ketamine.”

My stomach twisted, wasn’t ketamine a horse tranquiliser or some shit like that?

From the sudden tone of his voice, I severely doubted they were talking about a pigging horse. I fought the unexpected urge to laugh. Out of all the crazy shit I’d done in my time, this was at the top of the shit heap. Visiting a mafia boss and asking for help was an all-time low.

“I don’t care. Bring Cillian in. I want to know how much he stole from my father,” Kinlan growled, his tone suggesting he was pissed. He then switchedlanguages so I couldn’t understand and ended the call, throwing the phone back onto his desk.

I inhaled, and gave him an amused look, “So how does it feel now you’ve dethroned your dad?” I wasn’t sure that idle chit-chat was the way to go, especially not whilst pointing out that his father was now probably being fucked from behind twice a day in prison. But you live and learn.

The silence that followed was long and calculated and Kinlan’s eyes narrowed as he said, “Gutsy little fucker, aren’t you? Don’tevertalk about my Da.” You would never know the guy had Irish roots apart from a word here and there. Da was an Irish version of Dad.

With a flick of his wrist, he ordered me to sit. I noticed a flicker of pain as he shifted in his chair, no doubt the gunshot wound to his side was still sore.

A thick silence sat over his desk between us as I thought about where to start.

“If you’d like to tell me why you’re here this century it would be helpful.”

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