Chasing River (Burying Water #3)(75)

“This gang that Aengus and his guys have picked a war with. The fella who runs it—Adrian Beznick—wants Aengus gone. It could be next week, or next year, but eventually someone’s going to put a bullet in my brother’s head. That’s how these things work. Back and forth, like a backward game of chess, where each side takes turns going after the top. A new person rises, then, repeat. Just read the news. It’s full of assassinations over the past few years, too many to count. Someone will get Jimmy. Someone will get Aengus. Eventually, someone will get Beznick, even while he’s behind bars. And then people will just rise up into their places.”

I just stare at River. I don’t get this world, this kind of mentality, at all. I don’t understand how people like this can actually exist. Had I not experienced the bombing, I might not have believed that they do. “So, what is your brother going to do about it?”

He shrugs. “I passed along the warning from Duffy. That’s all I can do. He’ll hide out, keep an eye over his shoulder. What else can he do?”

There’s only thing I know to do: go to my dad. He always knows how to fix situations. “You need to go to Garda Duffy. Tell him everything.”

He chuckles. “That’s not going to stop them from picking Aengus off. That’ll make it easier for them to.” He reaches out to take my hand, running his thumbs along the lines in my palm. “I’m never going to turn my own brother in, Amber.”

“You think you’re protecting him by staying quiet, but you’re not.” His unwavering loyalty to this * is beyond frustrating. “And what if you get hurt again because of something he does?”

“Aengus is keeping a low profile right now and he knows to stay the hell away from me. I’ll be fine.”

“I wish that made me feel better.”

“What more can I do? Leave the country? I mean . . .” He smiles. “I guess I could wander around Europe with you for a while.”

“Hide out in a grotto in Italy?” I murmur with a sad smile. Yesterday morning, I would have done anything to hear those words.

“On a beach, in Greece.”

My cheeks flush. That’s not the first time he’s made reference to Greece. What would that be like, hanging out in hotels all over Europe with a convicted felon?

Or just River.

“Could you?” I hear myself ask. Am I insane?

His mouth turns into a deep frown. “I don’t even know if I can get a passport. Plus, I can’t leave Rowen to handle the bar by himself again. As much as I would love to go with you.” He pulls my knuckles to his mouth and I let him, reveling in the softness of his lips against them.

His phone starts ringing. “Speak of the devil.”

I study him as he answers the phone, the hand that rests on mine never pulling away.

“What’s the story?”

I smile. Ivy told me that’s how a lot of Irish people say hello.

My smile slides off as a dark mask takes over River’s face. “Don’t go home. Keep driving . . . No . . . And if they mistake you for him?”

I squeeze his fingers and his eyes fall to mine. “Guys waiting outside our house,” he whispers to me.

Guys? Does he mean . . .?

River’s attention is back to his phone. “Amber . . . She knows . . . Everything. I told her everything.”

I take a deep, shaky breath. Is it better that I know this? Had Duffy not shown up at my house yesterday, would I have made it until Sunday never finding out? Would I have climbed onto the plane with nothing more than ignorance and a broken heart?

“Where are you right now? . . . Okay. Listen. Go back to the pub and sit tight until I get there. I’ll call Aengus. This is his mess. He can clean it up.”

Wait. “How exactly is he going to clean it up?” I interrupt with a hiss.

Hesitation fills his eyes. “He’ll probably go there to find them.”

I grab his hand. “No. Call the police!”

He heaves a sigh full of frustration. “Gardai won’t do anything, Amber. They’ve already said that they won’t protect him.”

“They will. Just . . .” I scramble to remember everything my dad has ever said to me. Little bits of random information, complaints about how television shows mess everything up. Anything that will convince River not to send his maniac bomber brother there. Finally, an idea comes to me. “Tell Rowen to call and report it. Tell him to say that he’s pretty sure he saw a gun. Gardai will have to check it out.”

He opens his mouth, looking ready to disagree, but I squeeze his hands tighter, pleading with my eyes. “Please. Tell him to do it. If they can catch them with guns, they’ll arrest them. Then these guys can’t do anything to Aengus.”

“Yeah, but . . .” He sighs, saying into phone, “Did you hear that? . . . Do it. Then wait at the bar for me . . . I don’t know! Sleep in the office.”

I frown. There’s nowhere to sleep in that tiny place, unless it’s on the desk.

River sees my face and explains, “He was up all night finishing an assignment for school.”

And then River asked him to cover for him today, so he could take me to Wicklow. I sigh as the guilt settles firmly on my shoulders. “Tell him to meet us at my place. He can sleep there.”

“You sure?”