Page 63 of Dublin Brute

“For the most part.”

I don’t like the sound of that. “Explain.”

“There’s this silver Nissan. It’s got a rental sticker in the back window and has driven past here three nights in a row. Normally I wouldn’t give it much thought, but tonight the guy parked in the empty driveway next door, got out, looked in the windows of the Kelly house, and then drove away.”

“Are you kidding me? And you didn’t think to fucking tell me?”

Tig meets my anger with his own. “I’m fucking telling you now. My orders are to observe and email my report at the end of my shift. It happened an hour ago.”

I’m gripping the box of the truck so tightly pain shoots through my knuckles. Someone’s watching them? Her? Him? Is it Jordan or Nora they’re interested in?

“Fine. Whatever,” I growl. “If anyone sketchy gets within ten feet of her?—”

“I know the drill.” The fuck you in his tone remains unspoken, but I hear it just the same.

Whatever. He fucking works for us.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to see Sean’s text lighting up my screen.

Meet Bryan @ Shamrock. Brute and Beast business.

Thank fuck. I need an outlet before I explode.

When I arrive at the Shamrock Pub, Bryan is already there, leaning against his bike. He takes one look at me and arches a brow. “You look like ass.”

“Fuck off. What’s the job?”

“We’ve got a Devil with a big mouth. Word is Mickey O’Malley has been running his mouth about Quinn operations.”

“The stupid fuck.”

“Aye, when will these dumbasses realize everything gets back to us?”

I don’t fucking know, but honestly, if they did, we’d be out of a job. Taking the lead, I throw open the door and search the smoky dive for our guy. “Got him.”

I march over and grab the collar of Mickey’s leather jacket. Dragging him backward, he tips out of his chair and scrambles to get his boots on the ground as I pull him toward the door. “What the?—”

Outside, I shove him against the brick of the building and wind my arm back. My fist connects with his jaw like steel to concrete. He staggers, but I don’t let him fall, landing another solid hit to his ribs. “Wearing a Dublin Devils cut means you’re an extension of the Quinn family. Our code of ethics. Our integrity. You’re also supposed to show us some fucking loyalty.”

The flash of terror in his dazed gaze means he knows how badly he’s fucked up.

“You’ve got a big mouth, Mickey. Word is you’ve been talking about family business.”

“I wouldn’t. I swear?—”

Red clouds my vision as I slam him against the wall. “Don’t fucking lie to us, Mickey. You know we get to the truth. You want to be on the right side of that.”

He pushes at me to keep me at a distance and holds up a finger. “Okay! Okay! I get the message. I’m sorry. I didn’t say nothing important. Just spouting off is all.”

I go at him again, landing a powerful right hook. His nose shatters and blood sprays through the night air, all my fury and frustration pouring out through my fists.

“Brendan!” Bryan’s voice seems far away. “That’s enough!”

But it’s not enough. Nothing’s enough. I can’t protect Nora. Can’t be with her. Can’t stop thinking about her.

My knuckles split open, but I keep swinging.

“Stop! You’re gonna kill him!”

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