Children of Vice (Children of Vice #1)(28)

It caused old man Mahoney to laugh, sitting up and blocking my face to say to them, “Look at that, boys, he’s all butt hurt, he ain’t get—”

Grabbing his glass, I slammed it against his f*cking head. The glass shattered everywhere and blood dripped down the back of his head and even got on my hand. He grabbed the back of his head and moved back into his f*cking place.

“Have I got your f*cking attention now?” I looked them over…each one of them silent. Mahoney held on to the back of his head. “If you ever sit up in front of me again, I will rip your tongue from your mouth and have it shoved up your own ass.”

My eyes shifted to Frank. He took the pipe out of his mouth slowly.

“Let this be known and known well. My marriage does not bias me to either the Irish or the Italian families. The fact that you think a woman would be enough to influence me hurts, Frank, and when I hurt, everybody’s got to hurt.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Fuck your sorry and shut up.” I snapped, then turned to Savino. “Ivy O’Davoren, for all intents and purposes, is my wife. Which means you’ve insulted or threatened me. Either you believe I’m so fickle minded that I’d throw away women whom I’ve claimed, or you believe the woman I have claimed will not be around long enough to become my wife. Which I don’t see possible unless someone would try to do something very stupid. Are you planning on doing something very stupid, Savino?”

“No, sir—”

“Are you saying that I’m fickle?”

“No, I—”

“Then she’s my wife and you will respect that or you’ll end up in a much worse state than Mahoney here.” I looked back at Mahoney and the blood dripping down his neck. “Mahoney, you do know it’s rude to bleed on another man’s furniture, correct?”

“I’m sorry—”

“I don’t give a damn about your sorry. I want you to stop bleeding on my couch.”

He thought for a moment before taking off his jacket and draping it over the couch. When he was done I sat back.

“Can I continue what I was saying when I came in or would anyone else wish to disrespect me this evening?”

None of them spoke.

“Good.” Outstretching my hand, Greyson handed me the papers, which I simply threw onto the table in front of us. They were pictures of Sammy, along with two dozen people none of them knew.

“I don’t understand.” Frank lifted the photos.

“Greyson.” The moment I called him, he opened the second door of the den, allowing Toby to bring Sammy inside, who didn’t have a scratch, but looked ready to shit himself. Toby pushed him onto his knees next to my chair. “Sammy, tell your uncle what you did.”

Sammy dropped his head.

“Sammy? What did you do?” Frank pressed, but still the boy didn’t speak.

“Frank, you know how I hate when people ignore me when I speak,” I said calmly, taking the scotch Greyson handed me to drink.

“Sammy, this ain’t a game. Speak.”

Sammy finally lifted his head up as I drank. “I cut the product with Fentanyl.”

“You bloody cunt,” Frank cursed, groaning, then looked at me. “Sir, he’s just a stupid—”

“A stupid kid? He’s twenty. He’s not a kid and if he’s stupid it’s no one else’s fault but his own. Right, Sammy?”

“Yes…sir.”

“See?” I sat, putting my glass down and pulling out my revolver, holding it out to Frank.

He stared at it for the longest time then back at me.

“He degraded my shit to make a quick buck. In doing so nearly thirty people have died in the last month, and now I’ve got people asking questions no one has asked since my mother passed. It’s either you or him,” I replied, and he took the gun, rising to his feet, walking around Savino to stand in front of his nephew, who of course began to cry.

“I told you, you had to be careful.” Frank shook his head, holding it to the boy’s skull.

“Any day now.” I drank, a piece of ice slipping into my mouth.

“Tell mama I’m sorry.” Sammy closed his eyes tightly and…Frank pulled the trigger. Sammy flinched. However, upon realizing he wasn’t dead his head snapped back up to look at his uncle, who was staring at the gun.

“Well, aren’t you lucky,” I said, holding my hand out for the gun. Frank quickly put it back in my hand and when he did I spun it in my palm then fired. “Your uncle not so much.”

“UNCLE!” he hollered, trying to get up from his knees, but Toby held him down. Frank’s body was already on the ground, the bullet going right between his eyes. Placing the gun back at my chest, I leaned back.

“You killed him,” Sammy finally spoke.

“I know. That was the point of the gun. Would you like us to ship his body or his ashes?” I asked Sammy, who was unable to look away from Frank’s body. “He wasn’t such a bad man after all.”

“His body,” he whispered.

“You’re free to go.” Which meant Toby was free to have him dropped off at whatever street corner they got him off. I waited till he was gone before turning toward Mahoney and Savino. “I don’t seem biased, do I?”