Page 89 of Dublin Brute

Brendan

Nora asked me once why I would lock myself in a steel cage and invite someone to beat on me. I wasn’t sure how to answer her. But sitting in this fucking meeting, it dawns on me.

Control.

When I’m in a fight—in the zone—the world outside that cage vanishes. There’s just me and my opponent, and the chatter and chaos of the world goes silent. It’s fucking perfect.

I know what I need to do.

I know who my target is.

And I know how to get the job done.

It’s nothing like real life.

I shove my chair back from the meeting table, frustrated that night after night we’ve been sitting around in clubs and we’ve got nothing to report. We’re no closer to finding out who’s taking these girls, where they are being held, or how to stop it before that fucking task force closes in on us.

Tag is edging toward homicidal, and I can’t blame him. He’s carrying the responsibility for the family and our futures, and we’re certainly not making things any easier on him.

Sure, we figured out that the McGuires were framing us in time to find the drugs they planted and defuse their plan.

And yes, we turned the tables by giving the heroine and ketamine they left us to the local heads of families, garnering a little good will among made men.

But as we file out of the meeting room at the MC clubhouse, it feels like Billy Gravely is finally besting us. Sean opens the drop box and we all collect our phones.

“This is bullshit,” Bryan mutters beside me. “This is our fucking territory. Why the fuck can’t we get a handle on this?”

I accept my phone from Sean and unlock it. I have a couple of missed notifications, but the only one that interests me is a text from Nora sent half an hour ago.

Could this be them?

My heart rate kicks up as I open the attached photos. The images are poorly lit and taken at weird angles, but clear enough I can make out the three men in suits. “Oi, take a look at these. Does anyone recognize these assholes? Nora sent these from Legend.”

The phone makes its way around the group, each of us studying the images before passing it on. No one seems to know them.

“Not McGuire’s usual crew,” Kieran says, handing the phone back.

“Does that mean anything?” Keefer scratches the back of his neck. “There’s new management. They might’ve pulled in new blood, too.”

“Send those to Piper,” Sean suggests. “She might know them.”

I forward the photos to my sister-in-law and a moment later my phone pings with her response. “Shit. She says they’re Billy Gravely’s men. Used to see them at McGuire events but doesn’t remember their names.”

“And you said these were taken at Legend?” Tag’s gaze narrows.

“Aye. Nora sent them.”

A dangerous smile spreads across Tag’s face. “Then it looks like we have guests on our side of the river. Let’s go say hello, lads.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Nora

Ihurry to change out of my work uniform, tugging my jeans up my thighs and pulling a thick cable-knit jumper over my head. Kate is working the same shift as me and if I’m lucky, I can catch her and convince her to listen to me long enough to explain why I backed out of the flat rental.

I toss my work shoes into my locker and slide my phone into my back pocket. The clang of metal echoes in the small space when I slam my locker door shut. She didn’t come into the change room, so I assume she’s still avoiding me.

Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I exit the locker area and catch sight of her exiting the staff entrance to the back of the building. Running, I hurry to catch up and almost plow over Alexis coming out of Jay’s office.

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