Maybe all the differences were a good thing.
She set her wineglass down. “Two children, and I’m in Boston at least six months of the year.”
“I’ll agree to the two children. I can’t promise specific timelines as I don’t know when I’ll need you.” He paused and smiled at the waitress who now brought their food. Rueben for him, and a chicken Caesar wrap for her. Her favorite.
“This one you got right.” She snagged a fry and took a bite. Perfection.
“Research allows me to surpass a lot of the unnecessary bits.” He pushed his plate to the side. “As I was saying, initially you’ll need to be in New York more. I have to establish your place in my home for both allies and enemies. The first year, possibly more, will require the majority of your time to be spent with me.”
She didn’t like the idea of it, but it was fair—fairer than any other deal she was likely to get. That didn’t mean she had to drop everything and jump on it. “I’ll let you know.”
Dmitri smiled his shark’s smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
He had her and he knew it. Unless her date tonight went spectacularly—or the one she had yet to set up with Charles Pope—she wasn’t likely to get a better offer. Carrigan rose. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Romanov.”
“I look forward to seeing you again, Carrigan.”
She turned and walked away, feeling his gaze on the back of her neck the whole while.
An hour in the gym later, and James couldn’t get the feeling of blood off his hands. He stood beneath the scalding spray of the shower and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. It didn’t help. Rationally, he knew nothing would help. The problem was mental—not physical. He looked at his hands, red and raw from the repeated washings. “Damn it.”
He turned off the shower and dried off. In the past, whenever he got too close to the edge, he’d locked himself in the room with his mother’s photo album and anchored himself by remembering happier days. That option wasn’t available—hadn’t been since Carrigan took the album. He needed it back, the sooner the better. The thought of carrying on like this without an anchor made him sick to his stomach. This life was a slippery slope, and he was already too far gone. If he wasn’t careful, he’d wake up one day and realize he’d turned into his old man.
James grabbed his phone and dialed. He’d meant to call her back earlier, since his promise to her was still ringing in his ears, but he couldn’t with the memory of what he’d done to Joe still riding him so hard. It wasn’t going away anytime soon, though, and maybe some time with her was just what he needed to center himself. The longer the line rang, the tenser he got.
What if she’s in trouble? She hadn’t left a message earlier, but that didn’t mean a damn thing. He’d told her to call when she needed him, and then the first time she’d called, he hadn’t answered. Good job, dipshit.
The call clicked over to voice mail and he cursed. “I’m sorry I missed your call. I’m here now.” As tempting as it was to keep talking, to postpone the moment when he had to admit he’d fucked up, he made himself hang up.
A knock on his door made him frown. “What?”
“It’s me, boss.” Michael poked his head in. “I double-checked that shit you gave me. It’s all like Joe said. The first meeting Ricky actually pulled off was with those guys you met at Tit for Tat.”
His breath left him in a rush. Thank Christ he’d been able to put the brakes on his brother before he did any more damage. “Good.”
“Anything else you need from me?”
“Check on my brother and you can head out.” Between Joe and the aftermath, he’d wasted the day away. Where are you, Carrigan? He made sure his ringer was on and pocketed his phone. He wasn’t going to be able to eat anytime soon, but he couldn’t sit up here and mope in his room for the rest of the night. It was important he be seen, both as a warning and a promise to his people. Which meant Mickey’s was on the agenda.
He drove down there even though it was within walking distance. It was tempting to just keep driving. Too tempting. He had to remind himself of his responsibilities and what was expected of him more and more often as time went on. As shitty as it was, he dreaded the day where it all became second nature to him. When he finally fully stepped into the man he was required to be in order to run the Hallorans.
The monster.
Fuck, he was a moody bitch today. James walked into Mickey’s, ignoring the way silence fell as the men there caught sight of him. He made a beeline to the bar and nodded at Tommy. Tommy actually blanched before he caught himself. Not you, too. James forced his shoulders back and nodded. Fear or love. He might have been coming in here since before he could legally drink, but that history didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that Tommy now saw him as someone to be feared. “Whiskey.”