“Out. I’ll be right back. Try not to destroy any of my lamps while I’m gone.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“No worries, man.” Damien scratches his chin. “I’m just glad to hear you’re okay.”
We’re downstairs in the old truck depot in the basement of my building - the spot the Saints used to use for stolen cars way back in the day. Today, it’s where one of my oldest friends in the world and basically a third brother is bringing me groceries and a bunch of prepared foods.
Damien Gallagher essentially became my brother when his family took my brothers and me in after Aela’s father made sure we didn’t go to the foster system. Saints take care of their own in Southie, and Mike and Colleen Gallagher took on three other kids besides their two like it wasn’t a problem at all.
Because Southie born and raised is family, and family takes care of family.
But, here I am keeping secrets from him, and lying. He thinks I need groceries because I’m ducking the heat from the Ukrainians last night and can’t go out. And he’s right, but it’s not the whole truth. I haven’t told him about Sierra. I haven’t mentioned the witness tied up at my kitchen counter upstairs to one of the closest friends I have.
“You all right?”
I shrug. “I’m fine.”
He shakes his head. “Mr. fucking statue over here.”
I smile, but I say nothing. Damien knows me well enough not to actually be bothered by my tendencies towards being stoic and maybe a little hard to read. I’m not Liam, who can’t stop talking to save his fucking life. Or Damien, Mr. smooth-talking charmer with the perpetual grin.
“Everything go okay with the cleanup?”
He nods, running a hand through his blonde hair. “Yeah, I brought Jimmy Poole and Ian Shaunessy.”
“Good, good. They’re decent guys.”
He grins. “Yeah, you know, shit actually does go fine when you aren’t there, pal. The world does keep spinning without you showing up to make it turn.”
“Asshole.”
He smiles. “We took care of it, man.”
“No trouble with the Ukrainians?”
He makes a face.
“Damien.”
“Look, there’s…” he clears his throat. “There’s some heat from this man.”
“No shit.”
“No I mean, word is you’ve suddenly gotten real popular at the Ukrainian bath house.”
I give him a look and he laughs.
“You know what I mean. Anton and his whole ‘Eastern Promises’ bathhouse mob meetings shit. Look, Aela and Liam are worried, man.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“No, Con, you’re not listening. This isn’t just the normal heat you’d get for shooting one of their guys. The guy in the tracksuit you shot? That was Anton’s fucking cousin.”
I groan. “Fuck.”
“Yeah. Look, Aela’s got outreach started but Anton’s a cranky fucker.”
“I did splatter his cousin’s brains across the wall.”
“Yeah, that is going to be a sticking point.”
“Motherfucker,” I turn and spit. “So what the fuck do I do in the meantime?”
“Well, you’re right, you need to stay put here.”
I clench my jaw. “What.”
“Yeah, you need to lay low, buddy. Stay in your place. I mean,” he glances around us at what looks to any random onlooker to be a condemned old factory.
That onlooker wouldn’t be half wrong, to be fair.
“We don’t think Anton and his crew know you’re here, but let’s keep it that way. Look, we’ve all got your back here. Liam’s got guys keeping tabs from a distance, but we’re going to keep that distance so we don’t lead anyone to you. Oleg saw you that night, man, and he’s making it his business to find you.”
He also saw Sierra.
I keep that part to myself, but the thought sticks. What the fuck am I going to do with her? Keep her tied to my fucking bed for the next forever? Letting her go is a no-go, for one, because she saw me, and as cute as she is, that’s a huge fucking risk. She could go to the cops the second I let her go and bring them to my goddamn door.
And there’s a secondary factor now. There’s the fact that the Ukrainians saw her last night, and now even if Damien and Liam and Aela don’t know yet, there’s gotta be a price on her head as well.
“Anyways,” Damien sighs, breaking my thoughts. He steps around to the back of his car and pops the trunk, reaching in and lifting out bags of groceries and takeout food and handing them to me.
“You need a hand to bring this up?”
“Nope.”