Enzo (Jinx Tattoos 1)

“You will never know the fear I once lived with, little girl. As much as I miss my da, his death gave us a way out. I just hope he’d be proud of the things we’ve done with that opportunity.”

She lifted her hand to knock and froze at the murmured voices she heard inside—heavily accented men speaking with angry tones. Terrified for her mother, she hurried around the corner to the opposite side of the condo and pulled out her phone. She dialed her mother’s number, praying to the good Lord she was mistaken about what she’d almost walked into.

“Hello, love, now’s not a good time to talk, can I call you later?”

“Mom, do you need Irish Breakfast from the store?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

A sob rose in her chest. They were no longer safe here.

“I have to ring off now. I’ll call you back later.”

She hung up and covered her mouth. Why had they come now, after all this time? Keir’s warning words rose in her brain. Jaysus, he’s with them? He’s a damn mole! Her brain raced. They had no resources. No one to combat the IRA. They’d been fools to think their reach couldn’t cross the ocean. She closed her eyes. If I stay with Enzo, I could be putting him in danger. God, what if I already did? Horror rose up and choked her. Her stomach churned. First thing first, she couldn’t leave her mother in there. She made a choice she knew she might later regret. She called Keir.

“Call off your dogs.”

“What?”

“I’m at my mothers and she’s not alone. I know you’re IRA. You deal with me and leave her out of this.”

“So, you figured it out.”

“Don’t talk to me like you’re my fucking friend. Do what I ask, or there’s no deal.” She held her breath, hoping her bravado would carry her through.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said, and hung up.

A few moments later, a door opened. She crept to the corner and peered around it. Two burly mean in jeans, leather jackets, and newsie hats stepped out of her mother’s apartment. She leaned back against the wall. Temporary fix accomplished. Her phone vibrated. “Yes.”

“I gave you what you want, now what are you going to give me?”

“What do you want, Keir?”

“To make a deal and set up trade.”

“Trade for what?”

“Art of course. It’s what we deal in, right?”

“What the hell does the Army want with art?”

“Big money to be made. What do you think I have in those crates I’ve been getting in from Ireland?”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Careful, I might take offense if you talk about my mum.”

She could hear the smirk in his voice. “This doesn’t seem like you,” she said, thinking of the sweet, light-hearted man she’d gotten to know.

“We all do what we must to survive. You keen that better than most.”

She closed her eyes. They were probably blackmailing him into doing this. “We’ll talk but not now, later. I have to check on Mum.”

“Get her on board, Aibhlinn. These aren’t patient men. I tried to do it the easy way, but you shut me down, so now we do it the hard way.”

“What, you thought your dick was that good? That I’d be sprung and just go along with whatever you asked me?”

“I thought we had an understanding. We’d have been good together. We could’ve lived this life and been happy.”