Page 65 of Dublin Brute

Kieran leans forward, resting his forearms on the carved surface of the table. “That’s Laura Sanford, Jordan Kelly’s personal assistant.”

“And she’s meeting with Niall McGuire?” I ask.

“Worse,” Kieran says. “She’s Niall McGuire’s new fuck buddy.”

“Fucking hell.” Tag pounds the base of his fist against the wood. “How long has this been going on? Has he been influencing the investigation?”

“I’d bet my fucking balls he’s pointing the interest of the task force straight at us,” Sean says.

Of course he is. The question is, how much damage has been done?

Tag nods grimly. “Tell Finn to hack into any and every system he needs to. Track her calls. I don’t care what he has to do. I want to know how long this has been going on.”

“If the McGuires have their hooks in someone that close to the daily operations of the task force,” Bryan trails off, looking over at me, “we could use our own connection to influence Kelly.”

“Absolutely not,” I grit out between clenched teeth.

“Brendan—” Sean starts.

I slam my palm on the table. “No! We are not dragging Nora into this shit. The entire reason she and I backed away from each other was to keep her clear of it. It’s too dangerous.”

“Piper has helped us a dozen times,” Sean argues.

“That’s different and you know it!” I’m on my feet now, voice echoing off the walls. “You and Piper are married. She grew up in our world and never had a chance of leading a violence-free life. Nora is different…” I swallow hard. “She and I don’t have that.”

“Don’t you?” Sean’s voice is quiet but cutting. “I saw you tear out of the gym Sunday night. I also heard what happened outside the Shamrock. Can you look me in the eye and tell me she’s just a fucking friend?”

Tag raises a hand and we both fall quiet. “Regardless of your intentions to protect Nora, if Niall knows about the task force and about Jordan Kelly, then he knows about the man’s daughter, too. There’s no keeping her out of it now.”

I lean into my knuckles, adrenaline pushing at me to jump the fucking table and wipe that smug smirk off my older brother’s scarred face. The need to pound on someone is overwhelming, but it won’t change anything.

Because they’re right.

The McGuires having an inside influence on the task force positions them to paint an even darker picture than reality. Not only would they know what is about to go down, they could also nudge the direction of the investigation and pin shit on us, making us look bad.

They could make sure Jordan Kelly never sees us as anything but monsters.

And if they know about Jordan, they sure as shit have plans to leverage him if he doesn’t play their game.

My stomach flips and I swallow the burn of bile pushing at the back of my throat.

“Fucking hell.” Sean interrupts my internal plummet into panic.

Tag’s scowl grows more intense. “What?”

“That McGuire fuckwad Frenchie and Drake picked up scoping our warehouse.”

“Aye. Malcom Myers. What about him?”

“What if he wasn’t there to gather intel or steal something? What if he was there to test our security or, worse, plant something that would make us look bad when Jordan’s team swoops in?”

Cue a round of muffled curses around the table.

It’s a distinct possibility.

Tag looks at Sean and Keefer, his gaze murderous. “The two of you will go over every property we run with a fucking microscope. I want every box opened, every skid moved, every fucking inch of everything with our name on it checked. I don’t care if you have to enlist the entire fucking MC membership to do it. I want it done and done fast.”

Sean nods. “We’re on it.”

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