INTO TEMPTATION (Deliver Us from Evil #2)

Ten-2

“Same can be said about ye.”

Brody c***s his head to the side, watching for any signs of deceit. He won’t see any.

With reluctance, he offers me his hand. Peering down at it, I accept his offering, sealing our fate forevermore.

With that done, I get down to business because I want this done now. “I want ya to organize a meetin’ with yer men. I also want names and addresses. Today. Let me know when yer ready.”

“Why?”

“’Cause they need to know we’re not f*****g around. Each day is just another chance for Sean to brainwash more of yer men. We need them to know there are consequences if they wish to betray us. And those consequences will be paid with their lives.”

“I don’t think there’s many of them,” Brody naïvely states.

“Underestimating anyone is f*****g stupid. It’ll cost ya yer life. Trust me, I know this firsthand. It only takes one of them to open their mouths, braggin’ ’bout how grand Sean is and what he can offer them that you can’t. There is no loyalty. Men will go where the money and security is. And I’m guessin’ a lot of these men used to work for the Kellys?”

Brody nods.

“Well, in that case, yer f****d. It’s just a matter of time.”

Brody inhales sharply, not accustomed to being told what to do. “The men in Dublin won’t appreciate taking orders from a Kelly. If anything, that’ll push them away. They’ll see me as a traitor for workin’ with the enemy.”

What he says is true, which gives me an idea.

“You let me take care of that. Just make sure ya send me what I’ve asked for.”

Brody shakes his head, his cheeks turning red in anger. “Don’t forget I’m still the one in charge,” he snarls, eyes narrowed. “Yer helpin’ me deal with a problem. Ye can disappear without a trace, so don’t think we’re in this together. Once Sean is gone, it’s fair game.”

“Ach, if that were true, I’d already be gone,” I arrogantly argue. “If Sean were merely a problem, he’d be dealt with by now. But he’s more than that. And ya know I’m the only person who can take him on.”

Brody reaches into the small of his back and pulls out a gun. He trains it on me, nostrils flared. “I should kill ya where ya stand,” he says, waiting for me to react.

I just stand still, unamused.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“What does?” he barks, never taking the gun off me.

“The unknown,” I reply, stepping forward and pressing the gun to the middle of my chest. “If ya wanted me dead, I’d be dead already. So stop yer theatrics. Yer embarrassin’ yerself.”

“f**k you,” he spits, shoving the gun into me.

“Not today, thanks. So if yer done, how ’bout we stop wastin’ time. Or have ye forgotten what Sean did to Erin? And how he’s belittled ya in front of yer men?”

Brody’s jaw clenches as he wrestles with not killing me where I stand. He needs me, and he f*****g hates it. No doubt, there have been whispers about Sean throughout the years, but Brody is so f*****g arrogant, he never believed his empire could crumble.

But now that it has, he realizes to win this war, he’s going to have to side with the enemy—me.

With utter hatred, he slowly retreats, keeping the gun in his hand. “I’ll be in touch about tonight.”

With a smile, I bask in the victory. It feels good to kick a dog when he’s down.

Brody hobbles off toward his car, clearly done with this conversation. He speeds away while I sarcastically wave goodbye.

Once he’s out of sight, I tip my face to the heavens and inhale. The first step toward revenge has been taken. I won’t count my chickens before they hatch, however, as Brody may still try to kill me. It’s obvious he’d rather work with anyone but me, but he needs me. As I need him.

Tonight’s meeting is for me to gauge who has been led astray because those are the weak men. They will crack under pressure, and I intend to bleed them for any information on Sean. I also hope to see some familiar faces because they’re traitors for siding with the Doyles, and they’ll be dealt with accordingly.

My mobile rings, interrupting visions of bloody revenge, but when I see it’s Rory phoning, I wonder if that’s the reason he’s calling.

“Bout ye?”

“Hey, Punky,” he says, his unease clear. “I wanted to clear the air with ya. Cami and I broke up. I wanted to tell ya. I also wanted to say how sorry I am for being a f*****g eejit. I was angry with ya. Everythin’ went to shite when ya left. Everythin’ changed. Some for the better, but mostly for the worse.

“I can’t force Cami to feel somethin’ she doesn’t. I always knew that. I just thought one day, she’d stop lovin’ ya. But she didn’t.”

I sigh as I hate hearing my friend so low. I decide not to tell him that I know what happened between them. I don’t want to cause Babydoll any more pain. But what I do need to share is that Babydoll and I aren’t related.

“Can ya meet me at the castle in about an hour?”

“Of course,” he replies, and his acceptance makes me happier than I care to admit.

“Grand. I’ll phone Cian as well.”

“Just like old times, so it is,” he says, but we both know those times have come and gone.

“I’ll see ya soon.” I hang up and send a text to Cian as they both have a right to know what I’m planning.

However, I need to do something else first.

Jumping into the truck, I look into the visor mirror and grin—a sinister grin that has laid dormant until now.

My mum’s voice echoes softly, a reminder that her memories are still present. I just need to know where to look.

“I want ya to be someone else. I want ya to pretend yer anywhere but here. Whatever ya see, whatever ya hear, I want ya to know it’s not real because yer not really here.”

“All right, Ma. One more time.”

I’ll give it to Hannah, she has good taste because the moment I step foot inside my house, I think I’m at the wrong address.

I don’t know how she pulled this off, but she managed to deck my house out with everything I’d need and so much more. The kitchen is sparkling with brand-new appliances, some of which I have no idea what they do. The living area is fitted with a comfy black leather couch, a coffee table, and a huge TV mounted on the wall.

The king-size bed is covered in silk and satin. But it’s what hangs above it that makes this house my home. It’s the drawing I sketched what feels like a lifetime ago. I suppose it was.

“Y’ll always come back to me, will ye not?”

That’s what I asked Babydoll when I drew this picture for her. This abstract piece is one of my favorites and that’s because it’s how I see Cami—free.

I haven’t drawn in so long. It’s weird looking at this piece and remembering the way I felt, sitting behind the easel and letting go. I wonder if I could still do that now? I also wonder where Hannah found this drawing?

All questions are put on hold, though, when Rory announces his arrival.

I try not to let my guilt show when I walk past the bathroom—the place where I devoured his ex-fiancée without remorse—and into the living area to greet Rory. He smiles, but it’s strained. This is f*****g weird for us both.

“Hey.”

Rory whistles, taking in the grand state of my house. “Ach, yer gaff is class.”

“I’ve Hannah to thank,” I reveal. “I have no idea what half the shite does.”

Rory laughs, turning around to face me.

I remember a time when us three boys were thick as thieves. But now, so much has changed. I don’t want to drag Rory into my bullshit, but I want to be honest with him. Babydoll is right—a man without friends is a man without power.

I can’t do this alone.

If he wants nothing to do with this, then I’ll respect his choice because he made it. Unlike Babydoll, whose choices were taken away from her. No wonder she’s f*****g angry with me.

Fuck.

“Rory, no more small talk. I need to tell ya somethin’.”

Rory swallows, placing his hands into his pockets.

“Cami and I…we’re not brother and sister,” I declare, and the truth has never felt sweeter. “Connor wasn’t my father. But neither is Brody. Sean is my dad.”

He blinks once, obviously surprised by my admission. I don’t blame him. No matter how many times I say it, I still have a hard time believing it.

“Are ya sure?” he asks when he can finally speak.

“Aye. I’ve got it in Sean’s handwritin’. He set me up. He also killed my ma.”

“f*****g hell,” Rory gasps, shaking his head and turning white.

I go on to tell him the full story, leaving out the details of Babydoll and me. That’s her story to tell. Once I’m done, Rory is sitting on the edge on my sofa, interlacing his fingers in front of his mouth.

I know it’s a lot to take in, so I let him process it while I dig into my pocket for my phone and send Babydoll a simple message.

I’m sorry.

I don’t expect a reply, but I’ll continue apologizing for the rest of my life.

“I can’t believe this.” Rory suddenly jumps like the couch is on fire and starts pacing the room.

I stand back and wait as I realize he may need some time. But when he stops in front of me, that spark reigniting behind those eyes, I know he’s made his choice.

“There’s no way yer doin’ this alone,” he states with conviction. “I’m sorry for bein’ such a buck eejit. I failed ya. I was supposed to be here for ya.”

“I won’t be havin’ that,” I say, cutting him off. “There’s nothin’ for ya to be sorry for. Ya wanted to live yer life. I wanted that for ya.”

“I know, but I let ya down. I should have fought harder.”

I don’t know in what context he is referring to. Fought harder not to fall in love with the woman I love? Regardless, none of that matters.

“What’s the craic?” Cian asks, but when he sees Rory, he looks between us frantically.

“What’s happened now?”

“Why didn’t ya tell me all this?” Rory asks Cian, who pulls in his lips, weighing over what to say.

“It wasn’t his place to tell ya,” I answer for Cian because it’s the truth. “Things weren’t right between us. But I want to be honest with ya. No more lies.”

A look I can’t place comes over Rory. “Does Cami know?”

I simply nod but won’t elaborate any further.

“f**k,” he curses under his breath.

Without a doubt, he’s wondering if she knew this before or after she ended their engagement.

“I can’t deal with that right now,” he reveals. “But if I get to hurt someone today, then please count me in.”

Cian is still in the dark about what happened with Brody, so I fill him in as I did with Rory. Once he’s up to speed, he nods firmly.

“Aye, I second that, Rory. It’s time to spill some fuckin’ blood.”

On cue, I get a notification on my phone. I have an email and a text message.

The email is from Darcy. She came through. I now have a list of all the properties that belong to Brody. I also have “places of interest.”

The text message is from a number I don’t recognize.

Check yer letter box.

Sounds as ominous as it probably is.

“I’ll be back in a second,” I say to the lads, who nod.

Jogging out the door, I make my way down the drive, and when I open the letter box, I see a yellow envelope. It’s unaddressed. It feels like there is paper inside, so I rip open the seal and unfold the piece of paper.

When I see the names and addresses, some of which I recognize, of over a hundred men, I know Brody has agreed to play by my rules—for now. There is also an address and time.

It’s showtime.

Jogging back to the house, I enter to see Rory and Cian arguing over the fancy coffee machine. “It’s this button,” Cian insists, pressing it, only for steam to shoot out, almost burning him.

“Ya buck eejit,” Rory says, shoving him aside.

I stand back, amused by my two friends. It almost feels like old times—almost. What I hold in my hands, however, is a sure sign things have changed.