Page 16 of Dublin Brute

We step outside and I close the door on my father and his crime photos and his black-and-white world of justice and vengeance. I need to focus on moving forward, and I won’t let Tanya down.

No more living as my father’s quiet little girl tucked away from the world. I squeeze Kate’s hand as we head toward her car. “It’s time to make our girl proud.”

CHAPTER SIX

Brendan

The fluorescent lights hum overhead as Bryan and I walk the sterile halls of Bon Secours Hospital. The smell of all things sick and antiseptic hangs thick, tunneling into my sinuses until it makes my nose twitch. I keep my eyes forward, focusing on the steady rhythm of our boots echoing against the tile floor.

I hate hospitals.

In the end, when Mum was too sick to be at home, Da used to take us to the cancer hospital every day. We all knew she would never get better or come home, and every visit twisted that knife a little more. Da said that sometimes we had to take the hit for the people we love, to make sure they get what they need.

They say what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger, and look how strong I turned out.

When my twin and I get to where we’re going, we find Kieran propped up in a plastic chair in the hall looking like something the cat dragged in. He’s got his phone in his hand and is doomscrolling without paying much attention.

He gives us a nod as we approach and tucks his phone into the front pocket of his Devils vest.

“How’s the kid?” I step around him and glance into the small room.

Kieran chuckles. “He took one in the shoulder and one in the side. He lost a lot of blood, but his organs seemed to fare pretty well. He’s been in good spirits, though —thanks to some nice meds from a pretty nurse with a braid.”

Bryan smirks. “You obviously didn’t score any. You look like dog shit.”

Kieran scratches his cheek with his middle finger. “Let’s get this over with. I’m knackered and ready to get horizontal.”

I step inside the hospital room and find Petey propped up in bed, a breakfast tray sitting on the swing table over his lap. The kid is pale as a sheet and has a goofy grin plastered crooked on his face as he shoves scrambled eggs into his mouth. “Look who it is! The Quinn twins!”

Bryan meets my gaze and arches a brow. I fight not to chuckle. It’s not the kid’s fault, he’s drugged up.

Petey beams at us before going back to his eggs. “Are you guys hungry?”

I check out his rubbery eggs and bite back my disgust. Cora spoils us—not one of us would deny that—but even if she didn’t, I wouldn’t line up for hospital food. “We’ve eaten. Tag sent us to check on you. How are they treating you?”

He blinks up at us, his glassy gaze as wide as dinner plates. “Mr. Quinn sent you to check on me? Wow. Between that and these eggs and the pretty nurse, this might be the best day of my life.”

“The day you got shot twice and almost died?” I ask.

He shovels in the last bite. “That part was yesterday—not the best day.”

No. I wouldn’t expect so. I’ve never been shot, but Tag, Sean, and Bryan each have, and I’ve been there to witness the aftermath. Not a fan. Zero stars.

When his plate is clean, Petey reaches for the nurse call-button and hesitates. “Can I get you boys anything? My nurse said I could have all the eggs and toast I can eat. I figured Kieran had something to do with that. I’m sure I could score you guys some grub.”

I can’t help but laugh. The kid’s nineteen and in the hospital because he was shot twice, but he’s acting like he’s hosting a fucking party.

Kieran shifts closer to Petey’s bed, a serious expression settling back on his face. “Pete, the brothers came to talk about what went down last night.”

The kid’s smile fades as he sets the call button back on the bed. “Things got hairy outside the Confession Box.”

I move to the end of the bed, so I’m looking straight at him and can read his expression. “What stirred up such a hornet’s nest of trouble?”

He scratches at the rat’s nest his hair has become. “I’m not sure. I mean…things are heating up between Billy and Niall across the river, but that’s no reason to shoot me—is it? Dougie says I’m annoying as shit and he wants to shoot me, but for someone to do it…that’s harsh, don’t you think?”

“Heating up how?” Bryan snaps, getting us back on point.

“The McGuire men are picking sides.”

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