Page 59 of Lucky Strike

16.Lucky

Now

Acreaky ceiling fan spins lazily overhead as I wait for Heath Murphy to call me into his office. His secretary, a pretty, young thing with long, dark hair and cat-eye glasses framing her big, brown eyes, keeps sneaking peeks over her computer.

“You sure you don’t want coffee or anything?” she asks in a Boston brogue so thick I feel like I’m at a pickup game in Southie.

I’ve already said no three times, but I swallow back my impatience. It’s not this chick’s fault her asshole of a boss is running late and making me wait. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”

She smiles coyly, chewing on her pen.

The office door opens, and Heath looks out. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here, Sofia? Come on in, Conlan.”

Sofia the Secretary frowns. She did tell him I was here; she called him on his line the moment I gave her my name. But that’s Heath. I give Sofia a shrug of commiseration and follow Heath into his enormous office, where he plops down behind an even more enormous desk. “How ya doin’, Lucky?”

“Great. You?”

“Really? Cuz you don’t look so good,” he observes, his eyes roaming over my bruised face.

I shrug one shoulder. “You should see the other guy.”

“Hmph.” He nods, satisfied. He and my dad grew up getting into the same shit, so they know how it goes. “How’s ya father doing? Last I heard, he left the country for more of them tests n’ treatments, right?”

News travels fast around here, especially when it comes to the goings-on of the criminal underworld. The Murphys are the only family within Saoirse that isn’t close to ours—they’re frenemies more than friends—but they stay in touch.

“Yeah, he’s out in Cleveland now. Doin’ great.”

Heath raises his eyebrows, waiting, but when I decline to offer up more of our personal business, he gives a terse nod. “All right, well, we’re both busy guys so let me get down to the meat of the matter. Owen’s led these families for the past twenty years and he’s done a fantastic fuckin’ job. No doubt about that.”

Sitting back, I cross one leg over the other and wait for him to say what he wants to say.

“We been hearin’ some stuff about this new breed of Russians, how they might be interfering with the shipments down at the dock.” I nod, gesturing for him to go on. “Sounds like they might see Owen’s sickness as a sign of weakness.”

“Is that what they see?” I ask softly.

Heath frowns, steepling his fingers. “Yeah, Lucky, I think so. Don’t you think it’s weird your dad gets sick and now these fucknuts are stealing from the syndicate?”

“Maybe.”

“I get it, okay? When my old man died, it was a time of great transition.” He sighs. “It’s time to start thinking about what we’re gonna do if Owen can’t lead anymore.”

“Sounds like you’re thinking about it already.”

“I called you in here to have a proper discussion, not to have a fuckin’ pingpong match, smartass,” he gripes. “Have you or have you not discussed contingency plans with Owen in the event that he has to relinquish his role?”

“Of course, we have,” I say evenly. “I’ll step up, and then the syndicatewill vote, like it always has. That’s what you wanna hear, isn’t it? That we’ll play it by the books?”

“Yes, of course,” he says, smoothing his tie. “Just remember—there are a lot of interests to protect here, not just your own. What’s happening with the guns is just a hint of what’s to come if other gangs in this city think we’re slippin’.”

Heath’s a pain in the ass, but he’s not wrong. If the Saoirse Syndicate shows any vulnerability, we risk being swallowed up by the sharks of Boston’s underworld. “I know, Heath. We’re taking care of it, okay?”

“Are ya, Lucky? Does this shit”—he leans over his desk, pointing at me—“all over your face have anything to do with the Bratva? Because if it does, all you gotta do is say the word.”

“Like I said.” I exhale slowly. “We’re taking care of it.”

“If you need backup, just say it,” he presses. “It's not just about the guns and the docks, Lucky. It's about sending a message. We can't tolerate any threats.”

“We could probably use a few extra guys at the dock. And I’ll give you a call if they come around my place in Beacon Hill, but I don’t see that happening.” I shrug. “Might want to keep your eyes open, make sure nobody’s creeping around Benny’s.”

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