Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“I’ll have three then.”
“Let’s not go crazy.” She leads on, and I can tell that pleased her. On the surface, Mother comes off like the typical head of an Irish Catholic family. Warm, loving, but sharp and hard as fucking stone when necessary.
But on the inside, that woman’s a killer, just like me.
Only nobody taught her how to shoot at nine and how to use a garrote at ten and where to cut a man’s leg to make him bleed to death at thirteen.
More the pity. The world missed out on a prolific murderer in Siobhan Whelan.
Instead, she married my father, had her boys, and now she’s a vicious clan queen. The brightest there ever was.
I follow her toward the sound of laughter. Warm light spills out from a dining room with high ceilings, priceless antique furniture, and obscenely rare art hanging on the walls. A young woman staff member serves drinks as my brothers and my father stuff their faces with my mother’s shepherd’s pie.
They don’t notice me at first. Mom takes her place next to Dad as effortlessly as stepping into worn-in shoes. Everyone seems to brighten with her around. But I stay where I am, lingering at the edges.
My first youngest brother, Seamus, is telling a story about some gang of thieves he caught trying to flip over one of his stash houses. It’s brutal and it’s funny, and even my stodgy older brother Declan’s grinning, though I can tell he’s got a lecture loaded up. Meanwhile, the youngest, Finn, is hanging on every word, ready to start boasting about his own exploits the second Seamus gives him a chance.
My brothers are good men. They love their family. Declan’s a pain in the ass, but he was brought up that way. He’ll take over when Dad passes. Seamus is the firecracker and the nightmare, the king of the streets, the ruler of our muscle. Then there’s Finn, the youngest, eager to prove himself. Sometimes too eager. Always getting into trouble. But earnest and kind in a way none of the rest of us are.
Then there’s me. The strange one. The ghostman, the killer, the outsider. I desperately wish I could join them, but I know the moment I do, the whole vibe of the table will change. It’s subtle, but I always notice it.
Everyone’s on edge when I’m around.
“There he fucking is,” Dad says, finally spotting me. “What are you looming over there for? Come sit down, Cormac, before we eat everything.”
“There’s plenty,” Siobhan admonishes.
My brothers turn to look at me. All big and handsome and proud. I see it happen, the twist of Declan’s lips into a slight frown, the way Finn stiffens, and Seamus’s grin softens slightly. They’d kill for me, burn down the world for me, but they’ll never understand me.
I love them too. As much as I can love anything, at least.
“I’ve been told I’m required to eat multiple helpings,” I say, going over to my place beside Declan on the far side of the table. The young staff girl places a whiskey at my elbow from the high-end distillery we bought a few years back and a plate with a big heaping portion in front of me.
“She said that to all of us, if it makes any difference,” Seamus says, his smirk coming back in force. “How’s it going, brother? You busy tonight?”
“I was on a job.”
“That’s the smell then.” Declan wrinkles his nose. “Don’t tell me it was that prick Jack Grace?”
I take a massive bite and chew. “It was the one and only.”
“Tell me you took care of him,” Finn says, leaning forward. “That fucking guy’s always such a prick. I’m goddamn sick of him.”
“You don’t have to worry about Jack anymore.”
Finn sighs with pleasure. “I hope he suffered.”
“Boys,” Mom says, clucking her tongue and shaking her head. “Please, no murder talk at the dinner table.”
“If we can’t talk about murder, what the hell’s left?” Seamus asks, pretending outrage. He stabs a fork into his food and shovels some into his mouth before waving the utensil in the air. “Next you’ll be asking us about the book club we’ve all joined.”
Mom’s eyebrows raise. “You can read?”
“Despite your neglect, I picked up a few words.”
“I’m very impressed, darling.”
Declan leans toward me, ignoring Seamus and Mom. “It went well then? You don’t normally work this early.”
“I wanted to get it over with.”
“Good.” Declan’s frown tightens. I swear that man’s going to have a stroke one day, just from looking so serious all the time. “One less problem to deal with.”
“Tell me how you did it,” Finn says, grabbing my attention. “Come on, give me some tricks of the trade.”
“Enough of that,” Dad cuts in, snapping his white linen napkin with a flourish. “Your mother said no killing talk, and that’s what we’ll do. Cormac, glad you’re here. That means we can get down to business.”