Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
And besides, he’s funny. I like that about him. Cormac and Declan are too damn serious.
“You do realize I have two more to go?” I waggle my eyebrows and mime shooting someone.
“Someone should warn them.”
“Don’t ruin my fun.”
Declan sighs, rubbing his face. “Can we please stop joking around?”
I give him an innocent look. “Who’s joking?”
Seamus laughs again, but as it dies down and we start talking business, there’s a sharpness to the way he studies me. I wonder if his jokes aren’t covering for something more.
But we discuss the building for a while. The family’s got serious resources mixed up in construction. Not just in the unions through the Flanagans, but also through our development firm. The Whelan clan is going as legit as it can, though so far real above-board investments are nearly as lucrative as the nasty shit Seamus gets into.
“I’m going to ask you to run point for me, Finn.” Declan slides papers across the desk toward me. They’re more spreadsheets. I recognize some of the names and dates as payments to the different contractors. “Redmond was organizing things before, but now—”
Seamus throws his hands in the air. “Kaboom. No more Redmond.”
“Thanks for that.” Declan ignores him. “You’ll keep the project organized and act as the liaison between us and the Flanagans.”
“Can’t you talk to Eamon directly?”
“I’m delegating to you.”
“I thought Redmond’s job was bullshit.”
“It was, but you’re different. I’m handing over real control and responsibility to you, Finn. This isn’t some small-time operation. The clan’s going to rely on the income from this building for years. Don’t fuck it up.”
I glance at the papers and my heart quickens. “You know this isn’t my specialty.”
“And what exactly is your specialty?” Seamus asks wickedly.
“Killing brothers.” I stare at him flatly. “Sorry, brothers-in-law.”
He laughs again. Declan looks like he’s out of patience.
“You can handle this, Finn. There’s a reason I’m choosing you and not somebody else. I need to find a role for you, something important, and I think this is going to be your specialty.”
“Project manager? No thanks.”
“I’m not asking.” He nods at the papers. “Take it. Make it happen. This building stays on fucking track. I don’t care how many people get killed during construction.”
I want to turn him down, but a thought occurs. If I’m the official clan representative, that means I’ll have a lot of reasons to be around the Flanagans. Under normal circumstances, I’d rather cut my own fucking throat.
But given my current situation…
“By the time I’m done with it, that building’s going to be a bloodbath.” I pick up the stack of files and tuck them under my arm.
“That’s the spirit!” Seamus says happily.
If either of them really suspects I’ve been behind Redmond’s and Shane’s murders, they don’t say anything. Instead, we keep talking business for a while, until Declan has a meeting and kicks us out. Seamus says his goodbye, eager to get back to his family, and I’m left alone to linger in the quiet house.
I should head home. Caroline’s waiting for me. But I drift to the back of the house and find Mother in the back garden crouched over some plants.
She looks thin. When did her hair get gray? The woman in my memory is a colossus. She was the brains behind the clan, but now she gardens, spends time with the grandkids, and goes out to dinner with friends. She’s a shadow of her former self.
And I still adore her.
“I didn’t know you were here.” She smiles at me and stands. Her gloves are caked in dark soil. Her hair’s wispy under a big, floppy sun hat. “How’s married life treating you?”
I kiss my mother’s cheek. She smells like dirt. “Going about as good as it can, considering the circumstances.”
“Your wife’s well?”
“Caroline’s fine, don’t worry.”
She nods slightly. Her smile wavers. “Unlike her brothers.”
“Shame, what happened to them.” I glance away. She’s always been the most perceptive of anyone in the family. “I’m really broken up about it.”
“I doubt that.” She puts a hand on my arm. “Walk with me?”
The garden’s not huge, but there’s a path through several beds. We stroll slowly. Her hip bothers her most days, but she’s good at hiding it. I keep the pace at a crawl to accommodate her.
Mom talks about my brothers, about Cormac and Bianca and their kids, about Seamus and Alina and their kid, and even goes so far as to wonder when I’ll start reproducing.
“We just got married, Mom. I doubt Caroline wants to start pumping out Whelan babies.”
“Maybe she doesn’t, but what about you?” She squints at me, smiling slightly. “How would you feel about having Flanagan kids?”
I hesitate, not sure how to answer that. “They’ll have my name.”
“But some of their genes. Half, actually, give or take. I think that’s how it works, but I’m not a biologist.”