Page 38 of Forbidden Romeo

“S-s-s-six—”

“Can’t you count, boy? You already said ‘six,’ you thick bastard,” Morris yells at him. “How long are you going to take?”

“Perhaps if you stopped interrupting?”

For a split second, I thought I’d spoken my mind aloud.

Only to flinch when I turn and see a tall man standing next to me. Every hair on the back of my neck stands to attention. How the hell…?

“Who the fuck are you?” I snap, entirely unnerved, and pull out my gun.

This guy snuck up on me as silently as the grave, and that’s not a feat anyone has been able to accomplish in a long time. Whoever this guy is, he’s dangerous.

The man tuts and moves past me toward the window, seemingly unperturbed by the fact my gun is locked on his every move as I stalk him there. Morris looks about as dumbstruck as I feel as I pass by him.

“Pity. Connor said you might be smart enough to figure it out, Jack.”

I cock my gun. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t unload this into your skull.”

He turns from the window to look at me and merely nods toward my shirt. I grit my teeth, already knowing what I’m going to see as I look down.

Sure enough, a red dot has appeared over my chest. Fuck.

Still, I keep my gun trained on him. “The Maguires are so poor they want a fight over a few grand, is that it?”

“You’re on their turf,” he replies simply. “Surely you, of all people, know how important it is to maintain a perimeter.”

Morris finally speaks up. “This hasn’t been Maguire turf for—”

“Twenty years?” the man finishes for him. “Yes, well. Not sure if you heard, but the Maguires have had a recent change in management.”

“This is a declaration of war,” I hiss through my teeth.

The man lets out a dry laugh. “Was the bullet through Graham Duffy’s heart not obvious enough for you? Christ, you really are a disappointment, Jack.”

“You want to move away from the window and say that again?” I growl.

The man smirks. “When you’re all caught up and want to have a civilized conversation, give me a call, will you? I’m sure we have a few things to discuss.”

“Go to hell.”

“There are five men on the roof of this building. Ten more on the ground,” the man says matter-of-factly. “You’re not going to be able to shoot your way out of this one.”

“I’ve survived worse odds.”

“Are the Duffys so stubborn they’re willing to fight over a couple grand?” He parrots my own words back to me. “If you were a smart man, which we have already established you are not, you’d retreat now while you still have the chance.”

***

Retreating from a fight never feels good. Morris was sure to make that clear on our way back to the mansion compound.

I console myself with the fact the trip wasn’t a total failure. We now know more about Connor’s MO, and we know that his next move is to reclaim the territory his father lost to us decades ago.

“What did he look like?” Andy asks.

I stand in the conference room once more to present my report to a smaller group of Padraic’s more trusted advisers.

“Dark hair, slimmer build. Stealthy as all hell.”

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