Page 4 of Dublin Brute

“Niall McGuire might’ve sent you a thank you bouquet for saving him from having to partner up with the asshole.”

Sean grunts. “From what we’ve heard, Niall is too busy watching his back.”

“Do the lads think Gravely will make a move against the McGuires when he’s strong enough?”

“If he had the men to do it, I wouldn’t put it past him. Gravely’s a snake.”

I take another sip of the dark ale and frown. “Maybe that’s what Kieran’s little street rat dug up.”

Sean meets my gaze, his frown pulling at his scar and making him look mean. “Kieran’s meeting up with one of his informants tonight?”

“Aye, some kid named Petey.”

“About what, exactly?”

“Apparently, the kid heard something about Gravely working his popularity among the cutthroats on the island.”

Sean raises a dark eyebrow. “Does Tag know this?”

“It’s speculation so far. Kieran said the kid got something solid and they’re meeting tonight at the Confession Box to go over it.”

“If that’s true, and Gravely is gathering his own band of rogues, we need to be ready for a power shift. Text Kieran and tell him you’re joining that meeting. We need to know if this rumor is smoke or has merit.

I upend my beer and stand. “Yes, boss.”

I leave the MC clubhouse, hop on my Harley, and head out to meet up with Kieran, the Dublin Devils’ Sergeant at Arms. Therusset-haired rogue has a silver tongue and a way with people that makes him unbeatable as a handler for the network of informants that keeps us abreast of Dublin activity on both sides of the river.

Sean was smart enough to recognize his gift early and put him to work.

The Confession Box is a gem of a historic pub, away from typical tourist traffic, located next to Mary Pro Catholic Church. It’s owned and operated by two sisters—blooded sisters, not the Catholic Church kind—who offer great service and an authentic atmosphere.

My family generally lands at the Jimmy Francis Pub if we’re going out for a steak and a pint, but I’ve been to the Confession Box more than a few times.

A fella’s gotta support local industry.

A gust of icy air burrows down the collar of my leather jacket, and I shrug my shoulders up toward my ears to block against the wind.

Fucking hell.

Summer ended like the flick of a switch this year.

It doesn’t seem to have deterred the tourists or the locals. The night is vibrant with the buzz of Dublin’s energetic heart and the street is bustling with activity.

I swing my bike into a parking spot farther from the pub than I’d like, but the crowd from the Abbey Theatre just let out, and people are flooding the streets.

As I dismount, I adjust my jacket and check my watch.

It’s time for Kieran’s meeting.

I scan the area, and the thrum of the crowd carries a mix of accents and laughter as I make my way toward the pub. My boots thunk against the ground in a steady rhythm and my mind wanders to what Petey might tell us tonight.

Will Gravely make a play and go for control of the south? Will he stop at the south or will he try for all of Dublin? There’s no question.

If he seizes the south, he’ll be gunning for us and our territory soon after.

Just ahead, I spot Kieran. The redhead is leaning against the wall of the pub having a smoke and lifts his chin in greeting when a teenager in skinny jeans and a hoodie comes over to meet him.

My sightline is interrupted by two ladies as they pass between me and my destination.

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