Redemption and Regrets (Chastity Falls #4) Page 4

“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.

  Chapter 5

  We 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.”

  ~

  When 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.

  Because of my father.

  It wasn’t enough that he’d screwed me over in life; he’d hammered the final nail in my goddamn coffin too. O’Connor might have given the order, but the old man pulled the trigger. The one and only time he visited me inside, he’d told me to serve out my time with dignity. Pride. To never forget who I was and where I came from, while all the time he was preparing to hand the reins to Jackson.

  The glass in my hand flew across the room and shattered into a million pieces. The cran-apple juice dripped down the gray paintwork like blood. My chest heaved as I tried to get a hold on my anger. But the anger was for Dad. For his betrayal. He was our blood, our life-giver, and his actions had made us targets. Inevitably, I was heading that way long before all of this shit happened, but Briony was just a mean girl with daddy issues and an attitude problem to boot. She didn’t deserve to be hunted like some animal.

  At that moment, I wanted to say yes. I wanted to come face-to-face with O’Connor and watch him beg while I made him bleed. But a small part of me wanted to run. To get the fuck away from Astoria, from Oregon, and leave all of this bullshit behind. I’d paid my dues, done my time ... did I really want to be pulled back into a world that wanted me dead?

  A world that would probably see me dead.

  I grabbed my phone off the arm of the couch and texted Briony telling her we needed to talk.

  ~

  “You want to leave?” Briony’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes glistened as if I’d actually managed to hurt her feelings.

  “I want time.”

  “Time? You just had four fucking years. How much time do you need?”

  “B, that’s not fair, and you know it.”

  My twin’s face flushed with anger and she leaped up and stomped to the kitchenette muttering something about needing a drink.

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s a bad move.” Luke spoke low enough that Briony couldn’t hear us. “I know a place.”

  My brow shot up. “Yeah?”

  “Don’t worry, it’s Jack Doyle approved. He thought you might need some time and space.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Luke flashed Briony a smile that I imagined had gotten him out of a tricky situation with her more than once. “I know a place. It’s safe.”

  “Luke, seriously? You’re okay with this?”

  “He’s not our prisoner, babe. If he needs space, it’s his. We can stay in touch, and when he’s ready, he can come right back. It’s not a bad idea if he lays low for a while anyway.”

  “This is really what you want?” My sister turned to me pinning me to my seat with her eyes.

  “I just need time to figure some stuff out. Four years, B. I’ve been out of the game four years. I can’t just walk back in and forget everything. I need time.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded. It wasn’t easy for Briony to accept defeat. But this wasn’t her fight—it was mine, and I wasn’t rushing into anything this time.

  Acting on impulse had ruined my life once, but it wouldn’t get me again.

  Chapter 6

  “This is crazy. What the hell are you going to do here?”

  Hands shoved deep into my pockets and hood pulled up over my head, I scanned our surroundings. Briony had a point. When Luke had taken the 101 out of Astoria, my heart almost pounded out of my chest. The 101 led right through Tillamook and past Chastity Falls, but he’d turned inland, and eventually, we ended up in Forest Grove. Luke’s idea of me laying low was dumping me in a town less than an hour’s drive from Chastity Falls.

  Fucking perfect.

  “Don’t look so worried. It’s neutral ground. There are no organizational ties here, just an old friend with a room for rent.”

  “Friend?” I asked unable to disguise the skepticism in my voice.

  “Ex-girlfriend, okay?” He flashed Briony a reassuring smile, but her eyes widened, flaring with jealousy. “Babe, don’t. There’s nothing to worry about. Ro doesn’t even live here anymore. She just rents out her place.”

  “Ro? She has a name and an apartment, and this is the first time I’m hearing about her? This is just great. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Braid. I’ll see you in the car.”

  My sister didn’t stick around and I folded my arms over my chest shooting Luke a pointed look. “You’d better go fix that.”

  “She’ll come around. She always does,” he said with a grim smile that suggested it wasn’t the first time they’d fought, but that was Briony for you. She always did like to cause a scene. “Here’s the key. Apartment 2C.”

  I followed his finger to the second floor of the building we were parked outside. “Okay, and now what?”

  “Make yourself at home. The place is furnished. This should keep you going.” He retrieved a thick envelope from inside his jacket and handed it to me. “Clean notes, no plastic. You’re not here, remember? Braiden Donohue doesn’t exist here. Can you use another name?”

  “Another name? When you said laying low wasn’t a bad idea, I didn’t think you meant I needed to disappear.”

  Luke scratched his jaw and glanced back at the car where Briony sat in the driver’s seat with a scowl on her face. “It’s not permanent. You can reach us on this.” He handed me a cell phone.

  “I just need some time to figure shit out.”

  “Yeah, I know. Lay low. Stay out of trouble, and figure shit out.” His smile morphed into a smirk. “Because we need you back and ready to do this thing soon.”

  I nodded. I didn’t have an answer. Not yet.

  “I’ll check in. Hasta.”

  “Yeah, later,” I said as Luke opened the passenger door and climbed inside. The car sped away, and I hoisted the duffle bag Luke had lent me over my shoulder.

  I’d wanted space, and here it was.

  ~

  The apartment was clean and tidy and obviously owned by a chick. Luke had given away no details about the owner, but apparently, she liked the color duck egg blue. Walls, cushions, even the fucking curtains matched. But it was better than pink. I’d dumped my bag in the smaller of the two bedrooms before checking the place out. The grand tour lasted a whole two minutes and I tried my luck in the kitchen cupboards. There wasn’t much; a few cans of soup and unopened chips. I would need to venture out and buy supplies, but I didn’t know where the hell the nearest grocery store was. I figured the walk would do me good. Clear some of the shit running through my head.

  Grabbing the keys and a wad of bills from the envelope Luke had given me, I pulled up my hood and made my way out of the apartment. The building seemed pretty quiet, but then, it was a Friday. People would still be at work, going about their daily lives, while I was stuck hiding out in some town I knew nothing about.

  Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, after all.

  Not that there’d been many alternatives. What Jack Doyle and his associates wanted was crazy. I wasn’t cut out to lead some kind of rebellion against O’Connor. It had been different at CFA. I was the motherfucking king at the Academy, but that was college. This was the real world. A world I hadn’t been a part of for four years.

  As I hit the street, I noticed a sign for Lincoln Park Stadium. With nothing better to do, I headed toward the park. The sound of kids grunting and shouting grew louder with every step until I rounded the sidewalk and saw a blur of red and black running around the track. Unnoticed, I slipped through the gate and climbed the bleachers choosing a seat at the back, out of sight.

  Watching them, a strange pang settled deep in my chest. I hadn’t liked track. Football was more my sport—I’d lived for the game back in college—but seeing their discipline, their determination to finish the race, stirred something in me. At that moment, they had focus. An end goal.

  I envied them.

  I’d had that once. Goals, aspirations, motivation.

  I had the whole world at my feet, and now, what did I have? An envelope full of hand-me-down cash and an ugly fucking scar.

  “You’re not supposed to be up here,” a voice called out, and I twisted on the bench. My eyes landed on a girl in a black and red hoodie, similar to the outfits worn by the kids down on the track.