Read Redemption and Regrets (Chastity Falls, #4) Online

Authors: L. A. Cotton

Tags: #mafia, #organized crime, #college, #revenge, #chastity falls

Redemption and Regrets (Chastity Falls, #4) (3 page)

BOOK: Redemption and Regrets (Chastity Falls, #4)
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Her line of sight flickered from my scar to my eyes and back again. “I’m sorry, I just- I mean, you almost died.”

I tensed, remembering waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed, doctors swarming around me like bees. “Yeah, but I didn’t. I have the scar to prove it.”

Briony punched me square in the chest. “Not funny, Braiden. It’s so angry looking.” Her fingers moved upward, but I pulled away and put some distance between us.

“Yeah, well, it’ll fade over time.”

I hated the pity in her eyes. Wasn’t it enough that she already looked at me as if I was a stranger, but now, she thought I was some kind of monster?

“What happened to the guy that did it?”

“He won’t see the outside of a cell for a very long time.”

Levi Shaughnessy was caught red-handed with the shank that had sliced a four-inch cut open from the underside of my jaw to the bottom of my ear. Looking at me face on, it was hardly noticeable, but up close with my head tilted to the side slightly, the angry jagged skin looked gruesome. Levi had meant to kill me, but his so-called friend had chickened out at the last minute and called for help. I didn’t like owing people anything, but I’d be forever in Jake Penvy’s debt.

“I can’t believe they tried to kill you.”

The words hung in the air. I’d only been back in the free world for less than twenty-four hours, but we hadn’t talked about things yet—and there was a lot to talk about. Before I’d been found guilty of aggravated battery, things in our hometown of Chastity Falls were tense. Our rivalry with Reibeckitt—the next town over—had gone from a few scuffles to an all-out war. People had gotten hurt. I’d hurt people—almost killed a guy. And then there was everything that had happened since.

Not ready to deal with my own shit, I deflected Briony’s inquisition and said, “So you and Luke? What’s the story there?”

“Braiden.” My sister sighed clearly still pissed about yesterday.

“It’s just a question.”

“One I can’t answer without us going down a road I’m not sure you’re ready for.” Briony smiled sadly. “So much has happened.”

“I know.” I enveloped her in my arms and my pressed my face into the mass of red curls. We hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but no one ever quite got me like she did. Maybe it was a twin thing or the fact she was as fucked-up as I was, but as her slim arms wrapped around my back and squeezed, I felt the change in her. I’d noticed something in the car on the ride back to Astoria. Compassion. Genuine concern. They weren’t emotions Briony ever displayed when we were younger. She was as mean as they came—a total bitch. But my sister was all grown up. She’d survived the fallout. The chain of events set into motion perhaps even before I was sent down.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” her voice whispered, punching me in the gut. “Since Da-”

“Babe, I have coffee.” Luke breezed into the apartment and Briony unwrapped herself from me and went to him. I turned away to give them some privacy—not that I wanted to watch some punk get up close and personal with my sister.

“Stop it, Luke.” Soft giggles filled the room and I shut it out heading straight for my room, grossed out that listening to my sister get felt up by a guy had my mind working overtime.

It had been a long time—too fucking long since I’d gotten any. Four years inside with nothing more than a couple of female staff to look at and a whole lot of dick had turned me into a walking, talking hard-on.

Inside the small guest room, I closed the door and dropped onto the bed, jammed the iPod earbuds into my ears, and cranked up the volume.

Less than ten minutes later, a voice shouted, “Yo, Donohue, let’s go.”

I hit pause and yanked out the earbuds, but Luke beat me to it. “Ready for introductions?” he asked craning his neck into the room. I shrugged and motioned for him to lead the way.

Briony’s eyes met mine, and I saw the concern there. “You don’t have to do this yet. It’s only been a day.”

Luke grabbed his keys off the hook by the door but didn’t say anything, waiting for my decision.

“It’s fine, B,” I said with more conviction than I felt.

Because while a part of me wanted to know exactly what went down after I got locked up, the other part didn’t. Four years had passed, and I didn’t know which side I belonged on anymore. The lines had blurred, and the only thing I was sure of now was that it was time to look out for number one.

Chapter 3

L
uke rolled to a stop outside an old brick warehouse on the outskirts of the Port. I wasn’t familiar with Astoria, had never visited, but I’d seen the signs on the short ride over, and now, the water was visible, boats lined up in neat rows.

“Nice place,” I said in an attempt to break the suffocating silence from the ride over. I wasn’t a big talker, and I had no desire to get to know Luke any more than I needed to, but all the cloak and daggers bullshit had me on edge.

“Come on, they’re waiting.” He climbed out and headed for the door.

I followed, hands shoved deep in my pockets, eyes scanning the area for any signs of a threat. Who the fuck was I kidding? The whole thing could be one big set up, in which case I was about to enter the lion’s den. But something Briony had said back at the apartment wouldn’t leave my head.
We’re all you have.
She was right. I didn’t exactly have a queue of people waiting to fix my life.

Luke lingered in the doorway waiting for me, and I moved past him into the building. Voices traveled in the stale, dusty air.

“Straight ahead to the end,” Luke said from behind me.

The inside was somewhat tidier than the decaying frontage. Overhead strip lighting illuminated the long hallway and the décor was fresher, but something about the place gave me the creeps. It was too late to back out, so I carried on, clenching and unclenching my fists in my pockets. Ready to fight my way out if I needed to.

“Luke?” a gruff voice called just as the hallway widened into a vast room with high ceilings. This was obviously the heart of the warehouse. Floor-to-ceiling racks covered the walls, stacked with boxes, and pallets lay scattered around.

“Sorry we’re late,” Luke addressed the gray-haired man sitting at the head of two tables pushed together.

The man waved his hand in dismissal, and Luke nudged me toward an empty chair. No one addressed us, but I felt the stares. They were wary of me, just as I was of them. The hierarchy of the meeting was obvious; the old man was the leader seated at the head of the gathering. I scanned the table counting four other men. None of whom I recognized. One to the side of the leader leaned in and whispered something in the old man’s ear. His eyes locked on mine and I stared back refusing to be intimidated. The old man nodded curtly before clearing his throat. I presumed since we were seated at the opposite end of the table, and Luke and I seemed the youngest guys here, that we were seated by station or importance. Leader, his right-hand men, other associates, and then us.

Me.

Where I figured in all of this, I still didn’t know.

“Thank you for making the trip on short notice, gentlemen, but as you can see, things are moving rapidly. And decisions need to be made quicker than we anticipated.”

“We have a timeline, Doyle. I don’t think we should get hasty just because he’s out.” A dark-haired man rearranged his tie, seemingly uncomfortable at challenging the leader.

Me?
What the fuck did I have to do with any of this? I was still trying to figure out how all of this was connected. O’Connor. Dad’s murder. Luke and Briony. It was like having all the pieces of the puzzle but not able to figure out how in the hell they all fit together.

“We’ve waited a long time for this, so why change the plan now?”

Doyle’s lips pulled into a tight line, and he regarded the man for several seconds. “I understand your concerns, Iain, but if O’Connor learns of his whereabouts, we lose the advantage.”

“Oh, for Christ sake, Jackie.” A different man slammed his hand down on the table. “We don’t even know if he’ll agree yet. This is ridiculous. Iain is right. We have a plan, and we should stick to it. It’s our only shot.”

“Sean, watch your tongue,” the guy seated beside Jack hissed, but Jack lifted his hand as if to silence him.

“I understand your concerns, gentlemen. Perhaps I was hasty in my thinking. There are still things to address. Mr. Donohue,” he addressed me directly. “I’m sure you have questions, ones that I can hopefully answer. If you agree, I’d like for you to stick around for the two of us to have time to talk.”

I didn’t answer—it hadn’t felt like a question but more of an order. He was the one calling the shots, the one who had answers, so it was a given I would stick around and hear him out.

“Luke, can you arrange for Carolynn to open The Cave. Tell her you’re bringing some business associates by. Drinks are on the house.” Jack addressed the rest of the table. “Gentlemen, please accept my hospitality. Luke will make sure you’re well looked after, and I’ll be along shortly.”

A chorus of mumbles filled the cavernous room, but one by one, the men rose and hovered around Luke, who was busy texting someone on his phone.

“All sorted,” he said to Jack before addressing the group beside him. “Now, let’s go and have some fun.”

“Luke,” Jack warned, and I wondered just exactly what their relationship was. They seemed too familiar to be just business associates. Luke laughed and held his hands up. “I’ll behave.”

I watched the group leave but remained seated. When the last guy disappeared into the dimly lit hallway, I turned to Jack and gave him my full attention. “Braiden,” he said clasping his hands in front of him. “May I call you Braiden? Mr. Donohue sounds far too formal, don’t you think?”

“Look, old man,” I replied. “I don’t give two fucks what you call me. I’m here for answers.”

“My grandson was right about you.”

Grandson?
“Luke, he’s your grandson?”

“Come.” He rose from his chair. “I have a bottle of Johnnie’s finest in my office, and I’m sure we could both use a stiff drink.”

I followed him to the far corner of the warehouse. A wooden door and glass window I hadn’t noticed before fronted a small office. We entered the room and Jack went straight to the cabinet and retrieved a bottle of whisky and two glasses. My eyes scanned the room for any clues about who the hell this guy was because while he seemed to know all about me, I knew jack shit about him, and it was starting to bug me. Framed newspaper clippings decorated the faded walls. Most reported the achievements of Doyle’s Transport.

“I take it Luke and your sister are treating you well?” He handed me a glass and motioned for me to sit.

“Are we really doing this?” I asked coldly.

The old man laughed taking the seat behind the desk. “I guess we’re not. Forgive me; I’m an old man with old values. Back in my day, you asked how someone was doing before getting down to business. Now, it’s all business first, small talk later. My name is Jack Doyle. I knew your grandfather.”

“My grandfather?”

“Yes, Patrick Donohue. He was a good man, Braiden. We were good friends.”

“Okay,” I said unsure of what this had to do with me sitting here now. I thought I was coming to get answers about O’Connor, about my father. Not a family history lesson.

“When our fathers first arrived, the families worked together. The Donohues, O’Connors, and Doyles. We were stronger that way. Business flourished, other Irish families arrived, and our power grew across the western states. Things were good. But soon, the younger generations started to get greedy. Always thirsty for more,” he mumbled to himself. “I got off lightly having a daughter and no sons. But Patrick had his hands full with your father. As did Duncan with Frankie.”

My father.

I felt the walls close in around me sucking the air from the room. Part of me had known that was one of the reasons for Luke bringing me here today, but I wasn’t prepared to deal with that part of my life yet.

“I only met your father once or twice. By the time the next generation was ready to take the reins, I had stepped back. Sadie, my daughter, fell pregnant, and the low-life son-of-a-bitch left her high and dry. She needed me more than the organization needed me. But it only took those two introductions to know that Marcus was different from your grandfather. Patrick was firm but fair. Chastity Falls flourished under his watch and people warmed to him. Marcus, well, you know enough about that.”

Something stabbed at my chest. Guilt. Regret. I was such a fucking mess; I didn’t know how I felt anymore, but the old man’s words cut deep. My father—Marcus Donohue—was a formidable man. Detached and cold. He’d raised us to be the same. But I’d evolved beyond that. The things I did at Chastity Falls Academy, the private college Briony and I attended in our hometown, were unforgivable. I’d thrived on the fear and awe of those around me. Fucked my way through girls as if they were there simply for me to use and beat any guy who dared to look at me wrong.

I was a cold-hearted bastard, just like my old man, and maybe that was why Jack’s words stung so much.

“Braiden,” Jack said. “I’m not here to dissect your past behavior or analyze your relationship with your father. That’s not what this is about. Your father wanted more control, but he went about it all wrong. He thought he could double-cross one of his own, and in the end, it got him killed.”

BOOK: Redemption and Regrets (Chastity Falls, #4)
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