Redemption and Regrets (Chastity Falls #4) Page 3

  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.”

  I thought hearing the words—having the rumors I’d heard inside confirmed—would make me feel something. Anything.

  It didn’t.

  I felt nothing.

  “But times are changing. Frankie O’Connor was the lesser of two evils back then, but with Marcus out of the picture and families concerned about the way O’Connor handled the issue with your father, the whole stability of the organization has been thrown into turmoil.”

  “Listen, old man,” I interrupted, my head pounding violently from this information overload. “I’m not sure what you think I can do to help your cause. Fuck, I’m not even sure I understand what your cause is, but I want nothing to do with it. I’m out.” I rose and started to move toward the door.

  “He tried to have your sister killed.”

  “What?” My hand froze on the door handle, and I inhaled a sharp breath.

  “When O’Connor discovered your father’s betrayal, he killed him. But he knew that one day you would be free. The Donohue line didn’t end with Marcus. There was still you and ...”

  “Briony.” I dropped into the nearest seat and my whole body sagged; the realization of his words clawed through me.

  “Luke had gotten her out of Chastity Falls in time, but O’Connor had already put a hit on her. It took them a good while to locate the two of them. Luke is a good man; he learned a lot under your father’s guidance, but they almost got her.”

  “When?”

  And why the fuck hadn’t Briony said anything? I was beginning to feel like Dad had kept a lot from shit from us. From me.

  “About a year ago.”

  My head did the math. About six months before my run-in with Shaughnessy. But that would mean ... Fuck, it’s all connected.

  “Don’t worry, son, she was unharmed. Luke saved her in time.”

  I didn’t like the odds stacking up in his favor. It seemed I didn’t just owe Jake Penvy for saving my life; I owed Luke too for saving Briony.

  “Why are you telling me all of this?” I searched the old man’s face. I didn’t like feeling manipulated, and I certain as hell didn’t want to be backed into a corner. Not after spending four years of my life caged up.

  “I thought you should know all the facts. Your father was a misguided man.” He smiled sadly, and I clenched my fists not appreciating the pity in his stare. “But where you were concerned, he wasn’t the one pulling the strings. O’Connor was the one who told him to rein you in. O’Connor gave the order to seal the deal on your court hearing. What you did to that kid was wrong, Braiden, but you became a pawn in a much larger game, son. Even before O’Connor found out about your father’s betrayal, he had taken a particular interest in you. Oregon State was a one-way ticket for you, or was supposed to be.”

  Well, shit.

  I dragged a hand through my hair and dropped my head. “What do you want me to do?”

  “A lot of people in the organization think O’Connor is abusing his power. Marcus was his grievance to handle, but we don’t make a habit of eradicating whole families, especially not founding families. There are old traditions, ways, and means of handling such upsets, and it seems Frankie O’Connor has decided to throw all that out the window. It’s a shame, really. He could have made the organization great. Taken it to new levels. But, instead, he hides up in Seattle in his ivory tower while things fall apart.”

  “So? I still don’t follow what all of this has to do with me.”

  “The O’Connors have headed up things for a long time, but it’s time for change. He won’t go quietly, and there are those who want to rid O’Connor of his position, myself included, but in order to do that, we need someone to take back the reins, to make this organization great again. I came out of retirement at the request of a handful of men I trust—families I’ve known a long time—but they’re not leaders, Braiden. We’ve spent three years gaining support and making arrangements while maintaining the status quo. But it’s time. We’re almost ready to make our move, but we need someone ready to take his place. Someone who can reunite the organization. It has to be a founding family. I have no son. Luke doesn’t want the job, and I have to agree, he’s not made for it. Which leaves the Donohues.”

  I stared at the old man trying to absorb what he was saying. He finished his drink, placed the glass down on the table, and said, “It’s you, Braiden. We want you.”

  Chapter 4

  We rode to Jack’s bar, Astoria’s Cave or ‘The Cave’ as he’d referred to it, in his black Audi. He chatted casually about himself as a young man, arriving in Astoria and making a life for himself. I didn’t really give a shit; I wasn’t here to make friends, but he seemed harmless enough—lonely, which was something I could relate to. Apparently, Irish families had migrated to the West Coast to make a better life for themselves. Most settled in and around Seattle but eventually started branching out to smaller towns up and down I-5 and then farther inland. But it started and ended with Seattle. That was where it all started, where the big decisions were made. Where Frankie O’Connor dished out his orders.

  I’d never met O’Connor, but his name was familiar. Growing up, I’d made it my business to know things—things a kid probably had no business knowing. But when your father was a man like Marcus Donohue, and you were living in a small town like Chastity Falls, it didn’t take you long to figure out your family was different to other families. That the Donohue name meant something.

  That Donohue equated to power.

  It didn’t take much piecing together to work out that our family had links with others. I would sneak downstairs and listen to Dad on the phone through the crack in the door. O’Connor, Seattle, and organization were all words I’d heard. But I hadn’t really understood what it meant back then, and you didn’t ask Marcus Donohue questions. I’d learned that the hard way more than once. Lucky for me, he wasn’t present much in our childhood. Always out of town meeting for business or off fucking other women. But it didn’t matter. I was just a child and I had Briony and Jackson, who was the son of my father’s best friend, and Mom. Don’t fucking go there, Braiden.

  It wasn’t until she died when we were thirteen that something in me snapped and I became thirsty for it. I’d watched Dad flash his expensive cars and whiskies, lavish Mom with expensive jewelry and clothes, and all of a sudden, I wanted that. I wanted people to stop and stare when I walked into a room. I wanted to be the motherfucking king of Chastity Falls. And for a while, I was. Until I couldn’t see the lines anymore. Right. Wrong. Kind. Cruel. By the time I was a senior, people had worshiped me, and I trod over them as if they were nothing. Jackson and I ruled our high school, and we could have ruled Chastity Falls Academy.

  I clenched my fist tightly against my jeans shutting down that line of thought. Jackson Pierce was off-limits. After Jack Doyle’s proposition, my head was swimming and I needed to get my shit together. My feelings toward Jackson and how our friendship ended were still raw—even after all this time—but now was not the time for a trip down memory lane.

  “We’re here, sir.” The driver addressed Jack before climbing out and coming around to open the door.

  He motioned for me to get out first, so I did and took the opportunity to scout our surroundings. It looked like any busy street did. Shops, cars, people coming and going. The bar was sandwiched between a deli and a coffee shop, and a glossed sign depicting ‘Astoria’s Cave’ hung from a wrought iron bar. The whole place was unassuming, nothing like I would have expected.

  “Surprised?” Jack’s gravelly voice laughed from behind me, and he clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Not everything is as it seems. Come inside, I want to introduce you to some folks.”

  I followed Jack inside and was greeted with floor-to-ceiling Redwood. The smell of varnish lingered in the air; I recognized it from the workshop inside. It wasn’t somewhere I liked to spend my time, but a couple of the guys I hung around with always smelled like linseed oil. A long bar divided the room. Bottle after bottle lined high shelves. A woman looked up and smiled, throwing a towel over her shoulder.

  “Jackie, get in here. Where you been hiding?” Her eyes flickered to me and she paused. “And who’s your new friend?”

  “Just a friend, Carolynn. My usual and a beer for my friend.”

  I bristled at his choice of words. Apparently, my presence wasn’t something he wanted to advertise, which made me question how much I still didn’t know.

  And just how much my presence disturbed the balance.

  “Luke’s out back. Head on in and I’ll bring your drinks through.”

  “This way, son.”

  The bar was narrow and long, every inch of wall space covered with more framed newspaper clippings, sports jerseys, and posters. It was a history lesson in Astoria and the surrounding areas. But Jack didn’t hang around for me to get a good look. He moved to the bac
k of the room and parted a heavy chain curtain, disappearing into a dimly lit hallway.

  Behind the curtain was a smaller room. A large flat screen covered one of the walls, a leather sectional positioned in front of it. Luke and a couple of the guys from the warehouse glanced in our direction, and Luke offered me a curt nod.

  “I see you’ve made yourself at home.” Jack laughed and clapped me on the back before moving deeper into the room. There was a door in one corner and a snooker table in the other with a light hanging above.

  “Braiden, get over here, man.” Luke waved his beer at me and motioned for me to take the seat beside him.

  “So all caught up?” he asked once I was seated.

  “Something like that.” My eyes flickered over to where Jack was talking to two of the men from earlier. “Listen ...” I raked a hand through my hair unsure of how to get this over with without sounding like a complete pansy. “Your grandfather told me what you did, for Briony. Thanks, I owe you.”

  “You don’t owe me shit. You should know your sister and me, it’s the real deal. I fucking love her, man, and I don’t plan on leaving her. Just so we’re clear.”

  I didn’t miss the warning in his words, but I wasn’t here to fight. And certainly not over my sister. Obviously, a lot had gone down in her life in the time I was away. I extended my hand and waited. Luke studied me for a couple of seconds before accepting my handshake. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for her. I’m not here to get between you.”

  I wasn’t.

  I just wanted to find out exactly what had gone down in my absence and then figure out what the hell I was going to do with my life.

  “Luke,” the man sitting at the other end of the couch said. “Are you ever going to introduce us?”

  “Introduce yourself, Iain. I’m not your fucking babysitter.”

  The man shuffled along the sectional and leaned around Luke extending his hand. “Iain Carey. Nice to finally meet you, Braiden.”

  I nodded, gripping his hand firmly. “Can’t say the pleasure is mine,” I smirked but quickly replaced it with a frown as I noticed the gun holster inside his jacket.

  Luke exploded with laughter spraying his beer into the air, and I pretended to laugh along. “About time someone put you in your place, Carey.”

  “The boy has humor.” Iain locked eyes with me, and I stared back unsure how this was going to go down, but then a slow grin cracked his lips. “Wait until you meet Brody.”

  “That man is not welcome in my place again; you can tell him that from me.” Carolynn appeared with a beer and handed it to me.

  “Ahh, come on, Carolynn. You know he likes a joke. He didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Carolynn made a clucking sound in her throat and narrowed her eyes at Iain before collecting up the empties and exiting through the chain curtain. Iain was thick set in a gray suit with a dark head of hair and eyes that were impossible to read. He didn’t look as old as a couple of the other guys, but he was older than Luke and I were.

  “Braiden.” Jack’s voice sounded from behind me and I turned. “I’d like to introduce you to a couple of associates.”

  The last thing I wanted was to parade around in front of these guys. Did they all know Jack’s plan to hand leadership to me? A leadership I wasn’t even sure I wanted.

  I excused myself and moved over to Jack and the two men who both nodded at me.

  “Braiden, this is Joe. He’s situated in Vancouver but works closely with me.”

  “I thought you were retired?”

  Fuck. The words just spilled out.

  Joe glanced back and forth between Jack and me and then cleared his throat. “Jack likes to think of himself as retired, but no one retires from this life. Not truly. It’s good to meet you, Braiden ...” He hesitated, and I waited for his next words, but they never came.

  “And this is Sean. Sean originates from Salem.”

  The shorter man extended his hand. Instead of the tailored suits most of the men were wearing, he was in jeans and a dark sweater. The contrast against his fair skin and white-blond hair was stark, and my senses were on alert around him.

  “Braiden,” he said curtly, and I nodded returning his handshake.

  “Good, good. And I see you’ve met Iain? That just leaves Austin.” Jack scanned the room. My eyes followed his gaze landing on a figure seated on a barstool next to a high table affixed to the wall.

  “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.

  ~

  “So 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.