Redemption and Regrets (Chastity Falls, #4) (5 page)

“Austin, get over here.”

The man’s grunt was just audible, and I watched him stalk forward. Dark suit, dark hair, and eyes as black as night, the guy was intimidating—and I’d been caged up with some of Oregon’s most violent criminals for the past four years.

“Austin, meet Braiden.”

“Good to meet you.” He stalked back to his stool without so much as another word.

“Ignore him. He doesn’t play well with others.” Joe leaned in close.

“Good. Now, we’re all caught up. Enjoy the hospitality. Braiden, we’ll talk again soon. I have to make some calls and wrap up some loose ends. Luke will make sure you have everything you need.”

And just like that, he was gone, and I was none the wiser about anything.

~

“S
o what do you think?”

“About what?” I asked staring ahead as Luke drove us back to the apartment.

“About the weather. For fuck’s sake, Braiden, about everything.”

The world rolled by as Luke navigated the streets of Astoria. We’d stayed at The Cave for an hour or so after Jack had disappeared into what I had learned was his office. Slowly, the other men had left the bar until just Luke, Iain, and I remained. We shot some pool and laughed and joked about meaningless crap; football, the weather, sex. But no one mentioned another word about the ‘plan’ or what the fuck was going on.

Luke glanced over at me. “Come on, I know Grandpa filled you in. So you’re in, right?”

I shrugged. The truth was I didn’t know anything. The rage I’d felt when Jack informed me that O’Connor had gone after Briony had petered out to a slow simmer. Was I pissed that he’d tried to have my sister killed? That he was the man behind my incarceration and near miss with death? Sure. But did I want revenge? I didn’t know.

Four years ago, I would have demanded blood. That was how I worked back then—an eye for an eye. But that kind of thinking had put me inside, and four years was a long time to reflect and dwell on all that internalization bullshit the prison counselors tried to preach to us.

Bottom line, I just didn’t know if I cared enough to do anything about it.

The people I had trusted the most had screwed me over in ways I would never forget. But one was dead and the other was long gone. What did that leave? A sister who had found someone else to look out for her and a group of men who didn’t seem too happy to see me.

“Braiden, he killed your father. Tried to kill Briony and I know they tried to take you out from the inside. O’Connor has turned into a loose cannon. He’s a risk to everything my grandfather, your grandfather, even his own father, and their fathers before them worked hard to build for us ...” Luke’s voice blurred into white noise, and I leaned my head against the window and squeezed my eyes shut.

“We’re here.”

I opened my eyes. I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep. “This isn’t the apartment,” I said eyeing the non-descript building in front of us.

Luke smiled. “Nope, welcome to parole one-oh-one.”

Was he for real? I hadn’t given much thought to the conditions of my parole since leaving Oregon State. All I’d needed to know was I was getting out—everything else took a backseat. I climbed out of Luke’s car and followed him inside. It turned out to be some kind of office building with long hallways and rows of identical doors. Luke stopped outside one of them and motioned for me to go inside.

“Are you shitting me?”

“Trust me, it’ll be fine.” He smirked and flattened one hand against the door pushing it wide open.

Slipping past him, I immediately spotted the bald-headed guy sitting at the end of a long table. He looked up, his eyes fixed on me as he shuffled some papers on the desk. “Take a seat.”

I glanced back at Luke, who flicked his head in the direction of the guy. He closed the door behind us and took a position against the wall leaving me to deal with this alone.

“I haven’t got all day.” The guy’s voice was full of irritation as he eyed the chair across from him. “Let’s get this done.”

Get what done?
I wanted to ask, but if Luke and Jack Doyle had anything to do with this, I assumed it wasn’t your average parole meeting. I dropped into the chair and folded my arms across my chest.

“Braiden Donohue, age twenty-six, no fixed address, staying with sister and her partner at Unit 6, Mellevea Apartments, Astoria, will be taking up employment with Doyle’s Haulage. Sound about right?”

My head turned to Luke, who nodded, and I said, “Yeah.”

The bald guy pushed some papers in front of me. “Sign here and here.” His finger pointed to the lines where I needed to sign.

“Pen?” I asked still confused about what was happening.

He pulled a pen from behind his ear and handed it to me. “Stay off the radar. I don’t want to get as much as a whiff of Donohue coming from the local PD. Got it?”

“Hmm, yeah.” I scribbled my signature on what looked like a conditions of parole document.

“Doyle will take care of the rest.” He collected up the papers and stuffed them inside an envelope. “Get out of here.”

I rose from the table and followed Luke out of the room wondering what the fuck had just happened.

W
e walked to the apartment in thick silence. I’d questioned Luke about the ‘parole meeting,’ but he’d been less than forthcoming with the details. From what I could make out, the bald-headed guy did Doyle a favor now and again. Apparently, I’d just become his latest one.

“You’re back.” Briony leaped up as we entered the apartment and she rushed over to Luke, who enveloped her in his arms. “So how did it go?” She peeked out from under his arm and searched my eyes.

“Ask him,” Luke said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Braiden? What happened?”

“Do we have to do this now?” I ground out, scrubbing a hand over my face.

Briony reared back, fire shining in her eyes. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Babe, let’s just-”

“No, Luke, he can’t just walk back in here like nothing happened. We are talking about this, and we’re talking about it now.”

“Bri-”

“Fuck you, Braiden. I’m sorry you were in that place for four years, for what happened to you in that place, I am. But you’re not the only one who’s suffered.” Tears streamed down her face as I watched my sister struggle to maintain control.

Luke wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back into him, but she shrugged him off. “Give us some space? We need to talk in private.”

“I’m not sure that’s-”

Briony turned in his arms and palmed his face. “Please, we need this. Go for a run or go check on your mom. I’ll be fine.”

Luke’s eyes flashed to mine over a mass of red curls, and I nodded. He could trust me. Briony was my sister, after all ... my blood. That still meant something to me.

“Okay, one hour. That’s all you’re getting. I’ll go check on Mom.” Luke dropped a kiss on my sister’s head and left us.

The door slammed shut, reverberating around the room. We stood locked in some kind of standoff. It was uncomfortable as fuck, the distance between us greater than ever.

“Don’t shut me out, Braid.”

“Shit, B, I’m not shutting you out. I just got out. Four years of my life wasted in that place. And I come out to be thrown into the middle of some fucking war. A war I’m not sure I even understand fully. People are keeping things from me. I might have some readjusting to do, but I’m not stupid.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” I replied.

Because I did. I wasn’t sure it would change anything, but I needed to know, at least.

“Sit?” Briony asked her voice calmer. The flow of tears stemmed for now. I followed her over to the couch and sat down.

“Jack told you about what happened?”

I nodded fighting the lump forming in my throat.

“When you went to prison, everything went to shit. Da-” She gulped and I could see how hard it was for her to talk about him. Even after all of this time. “Dad kept me out of the loop. Had Jackson running errands, he even brought
her
into the fold,” Briony spat doing little to hide the venom in her voice.

My eyes widened at the mention of Ana—Jackson’s girl. There had been no love lost between the two of us; she was the reason our relationship went to shit. Not the sole reason, but the main one.

“I hated it. All of it. But things settled down for a while. Dad was gone a lot on business, as usual. I bugged and bugged him to let me see you, but he wouldn’t allow it. I swear it, I tried, Braid.”

“I know. I got your letter.”

“You did? I didn’t know if it would make it to you. You never replied?”

“I did, but I guess they were monitoring my mail. Not that there was much to monitor.”

“Okay, so you knew I hadn’t given up on you?”

“Briony.” I sighed deeply. “What’s done is done as far as I’m concerned. I just want to know what’s been happening that make Jack and Luke think I’m the right guy to fill O’Connor’s shoes. Because I sure as shit don’t feel like it.”

The whole thing made no sense.

“O’Connor killed Dad, Braiden. Tried to wipe out our whole family.”

“Yeah, but fuck, B, I thought this”—I glided a finger over my scar—“was payback for Calder. I had no fucking idea it was O’Connor. Why would I? I hadn’t seen or spoken to anyone in almost three years.”

Regret flooded my sister’s eyes. “I should’ve tried harder to get a message to you, but we had to go into hiding for a while. It was rough, Braiden, really rough.”

Silence enveloped us. The kind I hated. Thick and full of expectation and emotion and all that other bullshit that came with conversations like this. I released a breath when Briony finally broke the void. “How much did you know about our family growing up, really?”

My brows knitted together. “I listened. Overheard some stuff. Hell, it was obvious things were bigger than Dad was. I’d heard some stuff about Seattle, O’Connor, but I’m still not sure I understand what or how big this thing goes.”

“Big.” My ice blue eyes reflected back at me in my sister’s gaze. “Mob, Braiden. Irish Mob.”

Mob?
“You’re shitting me?”

I always knew it was bigger than Dad—the Donohues—but mob? That was the stuff of old movies and urban legends.

“No. Jackson was brought into the fold, Braiden. I watched closely, followed him a couple of times. Dad had him and Perkins running point for Seattle. He gave him the key to all of our family secrets, ones we didn’t even know.”

My veins ignited. Burned with rage. Jealousy.

Dad had always favored Jackson. He was the calm to my storm. He planned, didn’t act on impulse, and always preferred to fix a beef with words, not his fists.

He was the son my father had always wanted ... and never had in me.

My jaw clenched as I tried to work out some of the anger coursing through me. Jackson was old news. As far as I’d heard, he and Ana had skipped town years ago. Briony shuffled closer and laid her hand on my knee. Her touch surprised me; we weren’t
those
kind of siblings. Sure, I’d hugged her when I first saw her, but that was different.

“I’m not sure exactly what happened, but I think he sold Dad out. He found out that Dad was double-crossing O’Connor, and he used it as leverage to buy his own freedom.”

I stared at my sister trying to process what she was saying.
Jackson sold out Dad.
Ana had changed everything, called Jackson’s loyalty into question on more than one occasion, but he wouldn’t have just handed Dad over without good reason. I knew Jackson better than anyone did, and family meant something to him. He might have ultimately picked Ana over me. But over Dad? I didn’t buy it.

There had to be more to it.

Does it matter if there is?

“Peter and Luke helped me leave Chastity Falls. To disappear. It was awful, Braiden. I had nothing. No one except for Luke.” Tears formed in her eyes again, but Briony blinked them back refusing to show weakness. She looked me straight in the eye. “You have to do this, Braiden. You have to help them end O’Connor and restore our family name. For me. For Dad. Hell, for yourself. You have to do this.”

Her hand found mine and squeezed, bright blue eyes pleading with me.

“You have to do it.”

~

W
hen Luke returned, Briony suggested they go out to give me some space. Luke had started to protest, but she grabbed his hand and practically yanked him out of the apartment instructing me to make myself at home.

So here I was, sitting on the couch trying to do something as normal as watch television. But everything I’d learned from Jack, Luke, and Briony swam around and around in my head until it was impossible to focus on the images or sounds. My head was pounding as the walls closed in around me. I leaned back and covered my eyes with my arm. I didn’t know what I’d expected when I stepped out of Oregon State a free man, but it wasn’t this.

I’d been left to rot in that place. And when Shaughnessy came at me, I always assumed it was retribution for Cole Calder—the guy I almost killed. Our families had a long history and there was no love lost between us, but I’d been wrong. O’Connor had wanted me dead because of my name.