Page 13 of It Will Always Be You
Sheila is at Da’s bedside, ready to hit the mute button if he so much as sniffles, and all the medical equipment is out of shot, with Sharon on standby to get it all back in place as soon as the call disconnects. Still, the margin for error is wider than I’m comfortable with—all it would take is one tiny slip up for everything to crumble down around us like a house of cards.
But on the other hand, a fight sounds like the perfect way to rid myself of the tension brewing to boiling point. Helen has been a test of resistance in and of herself. From her tempting outfits, which havebeen nothing short of a distraction for half the workforce, to her snarky attitude, it’s a wonder we’ve made it through this first week working together. Even with Donna’s warnings ringing in my ears for me to play nice, it’s been far too much fun to rile her up and get a rise out of her. With every snarky demand from me, her cheeks flush, her eyes narrow, and I feel like I’m seconds away from getting a tongue lashing, only for her to let out a huff and bite back what she really wants to say. I’m dying to see if I can’t make her lose her control once and for all. I bet it would be a sight to see.
Shaking off thoughts of Helen as I pull into the Pit, I pull on my leather gloves and exit my car. Rounding the corner to the back of the building with anticipation pounding in my veins, I see my mates already hard at work. I’m sure by now, they have their suspicions about what’s going on, but none of them have outright asked me. For that, I’m grateful; I’ve never had to lie to them, and while I’d hate to start now, I’m not about to break my promise to Da.
Ciaran and Jack are in the process of laying out the rest of the tools while Seamus and Declan wrangle a spitting, furious Billy into the metal chair waiting for him. They quickly bind him to it, and if they spit on him in the process, that’s between them and him. I’m sure as shit not going to tell them not to when I’m about to do a hell of a lot worse.
“Everything ready?” I ask, striding forward, glaring at Billy as I come to a stop beside him. Fuck, I can’t wait to unleash all my pent-up frustration on the bastard. It’s the least he deserves.
“Almost. Just need to hook up the projector to the laptop, and then we’ll be sorted.” Walking over to where Seamus is working on the projector, I give him a hand before sending Brennan and Sheila the green light to get things sorted on their end.
Just as we’ve ironed out all the kinks, the men start entering with looks ranging from confusion to bitter understanding. The older generation has never been one for asking redundant questions, so it doesn’t surprise me when they just shuffle forward, brace themselves, and wait.Equally, the confused mumblings from soldiers I went to school with, as they gather in clusters, don’t come as a surprise.
“I’m sure you’ve gathered why we’re here by now. But in case you haven’t shaken off last night’s hangover yet, let me spell it out for you. I, Jonathan O’Neill, challenge William Hayes for place as second, as your underboss.” I have to bellow to be heard over the immediate outcry of questions and demands.
“Where’s Senior?”
“What gives you the right?”
“What the fuck is going on?”
With a sigh, I nod at Seamus, who cocks his gun and fires a shot into the sky to get them to shut their traps long enough to listen.
“First, my name gives me the right, more right than Billy ever had. Second, if you would all pipe down, I’d explain what’s going on. And third, Senior is here.” Like a well-oiled machine, as the words leave my lips, Declan connects the video call. I have to hand it to Brennan: it’s a beauty what he can craft with a few clicks of a button. Looking at it, I’d never suspect Da wasn’t really on a balcony backdropped by the ocean, colour in his cheeks and light in his eyes. The picture of health and strength, a leader to his core. The fact that it’s all an illusion sits heavy in my gut like lead.
“Son.” He tips his head at me. We’d agreed to keep his speaking to a minimum, lest we blow our own carefully crafted story.
“As you can see, he’s here, or as close as he can be, given the business he is travelling for, which dear old Willam here thought was okay to question. He sent his son on a mission to spy around Senior’s house, as if he had any right to question his Boss. Turns out, that’s not all he’s been up to. Dear old Billy here likes to take his temper out on his wife.” I spit at his feet, circling him and meeting everyone’s furious gaze one by one. “Given this betrayal and the fact he’s broken our code of honour, Senior thought it time to update his will. Can’t have someone like that thinking they can just walk into his role,my role, after all. What’s to stop him offing Senior to get a pay rise if hethinks it’ll grant him a seat at the top?” The outrage on everyone’s face encourages me to continue.
Stopping in the middle of the group, I splay my arms wide as I declare: “You’re officially looking at your newly backed heir. It’s no secret Da has always wanted this to stay the family business, so why Billy boy here thought he could rob me of my birthright is beyond me. Therefore, I challenge him. If he can beat me fair and square, he can remain second. For now. But if I beat him… Well.” With a dangerous smile, I let the bloodthirsty energy in the air feed the beast inside of me begging to be set free.
“Is this true, Senior?” Jo, one of our most senior members, asks, gaze narrowed on the screen behind me.
“Yes. Jonathan is my heir, and there is no one else I’d rather see take the reins. One day.” He manages to keep his voice sounding strong long enough to get that sentence out, but if the way his shoulders jerk afterwards is any indication, it’s obvious Sheila has had to mute him. Praying no one was paying enough attention to pick up on it, I shift the focus back to what we’re all here for.
“Well then, let’s get this show on the road.” As cheers ring out around us, I whirl to face Billy just as Jack frees him of his restraints. As soon as he’s free, he lunges to his feet, spitting out his gag as he kicks the chair out of the way and makes to attack me.
Feigning left, I dodge right until I have him dizzy and confused. Using this to my advantage, I lunge for him from behind. Wrapping my hands around his throat, I drag him back into my hold, only to slam him to the ground and kneel on his back while I reach into my waistband for my knife.
Digging the tip of it into his cheek, I taunt him, “Do you think this is the same knife I used to slice and dice your boy? Wouldn’t that be poetic.” After tracking down Mrs Hayes and seeing for ourselves the damage father and son had done to her, dear old Colin didn’t last the night. Now, it’s time for Billy to meet the same fate.
With an outraged cry, he tries to overthrow me, but in his franticmotions, my hand slips down to his neck, and one wrong move on his end has my knife embedded in his carotid, blood spraying my face. As cheers rain out and satisfaction flows through me, I look up at the crowd gathered with a bloody smirk.
“Does anyone else want to challenge my father’s rule? Challenge me?” When all they do is shake their heads before letting out cheers and chants of my name, I let their praise wash over me. I might have a long, bloody way to go to prove my worth, and there may still be a shitstorm brewing outside this Pit, but a win is a win.
The rest of the shit calling my name can wait; tonight, we celebrate.
Chapter 11
It’s amazing the difference a couple of months can make. My first day jitters have long since been replaced by a quiet confidence. After a few weeks, it became glaringly obvious that Jonathan couldn’t care less what I wear, just so long as I’m presentable. The days of wearing heels and attempting to style my hair are long gone. My desk is loaded with hair tools, and a pair of heels are ever present under my desk for the occasions I need to play the part of polished executive assistant and sit in on a meeting. And thank heavens for that, because running this place like a well-oiled ship is a hundred times easier when I’m not trying to pretend my feet aren’t killing me.
“I need that report, Saul, and I needed it fifteen minutes ago. You don’t want Jonathan breathing down your neck, do you?”
“Cecilia, since when do we not refill the coffee pot after ourselves? It’s called manners, people. Use them.”
“Deborah, get IT down here. The printer is still broken.”
Commanding people doesn’t come naturally to me, but I quickly learnt that to thrive, not just survive, it’s a necessity. The best way tokeep Jonathan from breathing down my neck like a pissed off dragon is to be at least five steps ahead and ensure anything that can be handled without him never crosses his desk. It’s all basic maths, really. A happy CEO makes for a much happier work environment for everyone.
