Page 60 of The Final Contract
“Go on, then,” Nora says, giving him a push forward.
He wrings his hands, glancing between me and Finn like he’s about to be gutted.
Finn softens his voice just enough. “Nothin’ will happen to you, lad. Just tell us what you saw.”
The boy swallows, eyes darting between the three of us. “I don’t want trouble with Cormac,” he blurts, voice cracking. “If he finds out I talked to you?—”
I cut him off, my tone low and final. “My brother won’t hear a word of this. He’s not part of it. This isn’t an Irish problem.”
The relief on his face is faint but enough to keep him talking.
The kid swallows before he cuts into it. “It was during the trainin’ last night. Ledger crew of servers bein’ trained for the Masquerade. Nothin’ unusual there—they were expected. But…there was one man with them. A late add-on. His name wasn’t on the roster.”
My jaw tightens. “And no one questioned it?”
The kid shakes his head quickly. “He acted like he belonged. Just sat there in the back, quiet as anything. Didn’t talk, didn’t move much, just watched.”
“Watched who?” I snap.
The boy’s eyes dart up, then drop back to the floor. “Not the girls. That’s the odd part. He didn’t so much as look at them. Just sat there, watchin’ the other servers until it was time to go out on the floor.”
My jaw tightens. “And?”
“He never picked up a tray. Not once. I noticed because the rest of us were runnin’ like dogs all night, sweatin’ to keep up. But him? He just sat out on the floor a bit, hat pulled low, phone out like he was recordin’ somethin’. Then he was gone. Didn’t see him again the rest of the night.”
Finn leans forward, his tone low but firm. “Anything else stick out?”
The kid hesitates, then nods. “Aye. His eyes. One brown, one blue. He looked right at me before he left.” The boy shudders. “Creeped me out somethin’ fierce.”
Finn and I lock eyes, and it’s all we need: no words. It was him. The kid saw his face—clear as day. Until now, the only person who’s ever laid eyes on the bastard was Seraphina, and she doesn’t remember enough to point him out.
I lean in. “Think you could sit with someone, go through a description? Help us sketch him out?”
The boy nods quickly. “Aye. But I’ve gotta be back at the club by eight. Next trainin’ shift.”
That grates. “Why’re you workin’ for Lucian? Cormac finally easin’ up on the Italians?”
The kid scoffs, shaking his head. “You know he’ll never do tha’. I got myself in a way, and Lucian helped me out. Said I could work it off. Club’s out of Irish territory, so Cormac hasn’t out?—”
“Yet,” Nora says.
I think a minute, then nod. Some of this heat is my fault—my fault and Lucian’s. I know my brother will carry the grudge for years. The Irish will keep coming for the Italians until they are satisfied they’ve paid in blood.
This kid doesn’t need to be wrapped up in that.
Had I not killed my cousin—pushed my brother onto the Irish throne early—things wouldn’t be like this.
“If you get in a way again, you come to me first.”
The boy swallows, nodding. “Aye. I will.”
“Good lad.” Finn ruffles his hair. “Let us go out the back first, then give us a few minutes before ya head out.”
Finn and I turn to leave, but the kid calls after me. “Oy, Kill…schools were better when you were here, y’know. Fuckin’ all the teachers an’ such.”
Finn barks a laugh so loud it rattles the glasses behind the bar.
Nora cuffs the kid upside the head. “Watch your feckin’ mouth or I’ll tell yer mother what you’re up to.”
