Page 62 of Shattered Union

“No,” I hiss. “She didn’t fucking tell me.”

“He told her if she left him he’d come for her. And he did. He set fire to her apartment with her inside. Told her if he couldn’t have her no one could.”

A tremor runs through my body. Fuck. “How did she get out?”

“He didn’t realise anyone else was in her apartment.” I glance at him and see the smirk. “I annoy the ever-loving shite out of my sister on a daily basis. I drop by her house whenever the mood strikes. Staying over, just because I know how pissed she gets.”

“You were there that night,” I surmise.

He nods. “I was, I got her to safety and then I did something that night I promised my mam I’d never do. I started working for Uncle Jer. That motherfucker wasn’t going to stop. He was going to keep coming back and eventually he’d get his way.”

"You killed him," I murmur. Glad he's dealt with. If he weren't, he would be soon.

Maverick nods. "Yeah, I along with Uncle Jer, Uncle Butch, and Stephen."

"Stephen Maguire?" I ask, wondering if it is that crazy bastard.

"Yep," he replies, a smug fucking smile on his face.

"How the hell did Jerry manage to gethimto work for him?" I've been trying for years, to no avail.

"Now that would be telling. But Stephen has been working for Jer for the past six or seven years. You were never going to get him on board. He may be a fucking raving lunatic, but he's loyal."

A lunatic is a polite way of putting it. He's ruthless. Twisted. He loves the thrill of death. He's the man I believe to be the Eraser. A man who will wipe a body from the face of the earth. No evidence. No crime. If he truly is the Eraser. He's the best of the best and Jerry Houlihan is a lucky sonofabitch for having him as part of his organization.

"So he's gone?" I ask, talking about Callie's ex.

He nods. "And he won't be found. When we went to his apartment—" He shakes his head in disgust. "His spare room was a fucking shrine to Callie. He had a lock of her hair, her underwear, a toothbrush. You name it, that bastard had it. He wasn't ever letting her go. So we made sure he would never get the chance to hurt her again."

I know where the fucker is going with this.

"Save your threats," I snarl. "I'm getting sick of this shit, Mav. Threaten me again and you'll not be returning home tonight."

He interlocks his fingers and cracks his knuckles. "Fine. But know this. You want my sister back. The way to do that isn't by killing me. She'd hate you."

Prick.

I ignore the remark and move onto what's coming up.

"What happens here tonight, doesn't get regaled. My kids don't need to know the ins and outs of how their ma died."

"It'll not be repeated," he assures me. "Has Callie met your youngest yet? Ma was raving about Chloe. Couldn't believe she was your daughter."

I chuckle. No doubt Nichola fucking hates me. But that's her problem, not mine. "Chloe is like my other daughter, Holly. They're quiet, reserved, and sweet. But get on the wrong side of them and you'll know about it."

"Ah, so nothing like Callie then." He grins. "My sister isn't quiet or reserved. She can be sweet, sure. But mostly she's a bitch. It's only going to get worse now she's pregnant."

My jaw clenches. "Call her a bitch again, I fucking dare you."

"Jaysus," he mutters. "She's my sister." He raises his hands in surrender.

"I don't give a fuck if she's the pope. Watch your mouth." No one gets to disrespect her. Ever.

He laughs. "This is going to be fun to watch unfold. You're completely fucked, you know that? Callie's got you wrapped around her finger."

"Shut it," I grunt. "As for my other kids, no. She's not met any of them. Well besides Malcolm."

"She loves kids, always has. It's going to be an enormous step for her to take. I mean, soon it'll be three kids under three."

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