Page 7 of Reckless Desires

You don’t need to get your hands dirty anymore. Perk of being at the top.

Keeps me grounded.

Donal:

When’s the last time you slept?

Sleep is for the weak. Catch me up on the arms deal set up in Boston.

Donal:

Someone will be there in 5 minutes. Meet me at the pub on The Hill.

Smirking, I put my phone down and my gloves back on, putting Richard in a plastic covering on the floor. He’s going to make an excellent snack for the pigs.

It only takes a little time to get his body sliced into manageable pieces, and by the time his body is in the back of my car and I’m headed out of the city, Donal already has a lead on who might want to buy the heart. That’s one of the things I like the most about my second. He’s always willing to handle what needs to be handled. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t voice his doubts in front of the other men. That’s the last thing I need after taking over the Irish mob in Providence a few months ago. The tension has been nothing but rocky since, and each time I walk into a room, I can feel doubt radiating from all the men.

I slip into the driver’s seat of an old car, revving the engine, pulling a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it, letting the end glow against the early morning light just starting to peek through the dark clouds hanging over the warehouse on the far edges of the city.

Turning up the radio, the sound of Fontaines D.C. pumps through the speakers. My fingers drum on the wheel to the tune of “Stardust” while heading straight for the highway as other cars pass me, heading into the city for the day.

Welcome to Providence.

I’ve passed this sign countless times. Each time, I want to rip it out of the ground and put a sign bearing our Irish crest in its place. The only thing stopping me is the Costello Family. Half of the city is in my pocket, and Alessio controls the other half. With the truce we’ve recently struck, neither one of us has to worry about someone wanting to search or dig for anything we might have hidden.

We managed to keep the city under our control; however, recently the Russians have been trying to push into the city, and it’s only going to be a matter of time before the violence starts. Providence is a good hub, one right on the water, creating an easy and strategic transport between New York and Boston. Boats are always coming and going loaded with products that fill city streets with drugs and weapons. And I’ll slaughter anyone in my path who tries to end that for me.

After working my way through several songs and leaving the city far behind, the lights on the side of the road fade, and the trees lining it grow thicker. Dark shadows stretch over the highway even as the sun climbs higher in the sky.

Being out of the city like this, lost, reminds me of being back in Ireland. What I wouldn’t give to go back there and escape all the shit I have to deal with here. I didn’t think that sorting out a million problems caused by my predecessor was going to make me want to drive myself straight off a cliff. And I sure as shit didn’t think that the Russians were going to start testing my limits and theirs.

If they hadn’t started pushing it, I wouldn’t have gone to kill our poor Dicky today. He would’ve gotten another day or two before the stress got to be too much and I needed a little bit of relief. Part of me believes the reason I haven’t been overthrown by my own men is because they know I enjoy killing, and any excuse to take a life is enough for me to see it through.

I turn off the road onto a dirt path that is nearly invisible unless you know where to look for it. Branches brush against the car, blending in the scratches that line the sides. It’s one of two cars I rotate between when I come up here, a junker from the nineties that is somehow still going strong.

Humming along to This Verminous Creation, I park the car, the headlights shining past the barn and into the pig pen. They stop what they’re doing, trotting over to the fence. My pigs are spoiled rotten. They know when a feast is about to occur.

“Alright, Dickie boy,” I say, opening the trunk and hauling out the black bags of body parts, the pigs squealing with excitement in the background. “I wish we had more time together, but you understand the timeline for this one is rather short.”

The pigs snort around the fence line, their squeals getting louder as I slip on a pair of gloves and start tossing over the chunks of flesh. I finish getting rid of the body chunks, stopping long enough to pet the pigs before getting in the car and heading back to town.

My house is dark as I drive up the path, but I’m not stupid enough to think that it’s not being watched. I know there are people lingering in the darkness and watching over me. I know it’s only going to be a matter of time until one of them tries something.

Power is always written in blood, and I plan on bathing the city in it.

Chapter Three

Lily

From bright sunlight to utter darkness, my body is swallowed by a force ripping me off my feet. Before I can process what’s happening, I feel my body briefly suspended in the air and then hitting something solid. I hear a door shut and a pair of hands grabs my wrists, binding them together with something thick and prickly.

“Listen closely,” a deep, menacing voice booms, slicing through the darkness. “I’m under strict orders to bring you in. So, you’d best behave.” The threat lingers in the air like smoke.

“Do you know who I am?!” I spit out, trying to get free. “You’re making a BIG mistake.”

“Oh, we know who you are. Just sit tight and you won’t get any bruises.”

With a sarcastic laugh, I say, “I’m not worried about bruises nearly as much as you should be when my family comes to find me.”