Page 120 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
“No. I didn’t.” I push him away. “I went to save them, and because I chose to try and save Shiv, they died. Harry’s the only one I saved from the burning building in Dublin. One scared little girl. Who, by the way, shot me the first chance she got.”
Suddenly he starts laughing. “She shot you? Oh man… I remember you were shot… I don’t really remember Sian, though.”
“Siobhan.”
He shrug. “Whatever. It’s pretty fucking kick-ass of you to walk into a burning building, because that’s how I see it. You, emerging through the smoke, probably on fire to save a girl. Kick. Ass.” He turns. “Did you know this, Seamus?”
Thing is, my idiotic brother has the scenario right. Not the heroism of it. I was doing a job, and one I failed to complete. Failed to complete, I realize, except in the most important way.
Saving Harry.
I didn’t fail there.
I might have failed her and what she wanted and needed in regard to her parents, but… I saved her.
“I know enough,” Seamus says. “Now let’s get this done.”
We head into the hospital. No one stops us as we get Anthony’s room number and storm the place. As a family, we all go in. And our two guards follow. Good men. Trusted men.
They’ll either kill him or keep him safe, depending on our word.
Although, one thing gets us respect—if we need someone dead, we Murphys do it ourselves.
We don’t want that… yet. The guards are here to protect Anthony until told otherwise.
Because I know and suspect that Cal worked it out before me, that as much as I’ve said I’d kill Anthony, I won’t.
Purely because Harry’s asked me not to.
If he’s guilty, which I now don’t think he is, I would make his life hard, but he’d live. For her.
Anything for Harry.
Anything.
I check my phone. Nothing from Harry. I snap a photo of him and send it, saying to Anthony, “For Harry.”
“Just so you know, kill me and not Harriet. I’ve tried to protect her, and I knew your family would. I’ll?—”
“Calm down,” I say quietly. “I took the photo for her peace of mind. We—I—care about her.” I clear my throat as heat creeps up the back of my neck. “The priest gave me this for her.”
I pull the letter from my pocket and show it to him. And instead of relief, confusion crosses his face. “I don’t understand.”
Callahan puts a cigarette between hislips, then pats himself down for his Zippo. Clearly, he then remembers where he is as he snatches the smoke away and puts it back behind his ear. “Try.”
“I understand what’s on here,” Anthony says, coughing, the steady beep of the machine beside him punctuating the air. His gaze shifts to me. “After the blood wedding, with the Ricci threat gone, I oiled the way a little more by investing for them. And so I thought it was done, but a man and a woman turned up at my office late one night, right before I was heading home.”
He looks at me and then my brothers.
“He was like you lot, Irish,” Anthony says. “She was American, a Ms. Rao. Wanting money they were owed. All of it. A lot more than I remember my brother-in-law owing. And this says it was paid back. I believe my sister.”
Anthony coughs again. “This couple, they wanted more than what’s in Harry’s trust, and that’s a fortune. They wanted me to take the money from there, but I said there was none. You saw me with Amherst Bancroft. We were discussing how to bring them down, if we could, or how to even get the upper hand, but…”
He half laughs, then winces. “I don’t talk about what I do, but I’ve helped the mafia make money. I don’t question it. And yes, I helped this Rao couple a little in the end. But it wasn’t enough. Never will be. People like that are never fully satisfied. They’ll always take and take. But I don’t think they were part of the Rao family. I’ve never known mafia to act like they’re doing a common shakedown. Not at my level.”
I exchange looks with Cal. He goes over to Seamus and mutters something in his ear. Seamus nods and takes Dec out into the hallway.
Then I settle my gaze back on Anthony. “What was her name?”
