Shannon
I make the rules now. Gone are the ravaged days of street living and fighting to survive. Now I fight, bare knuckled for the fun of it. Paddy O’Shea, my father thought he’d toughen me up.
Make me ready to fight his battles, or worse, fight my brothers.
Wrong
—
He
’
s the bastard we all fight against.
Nothing or no one gets in my way
—
ever. Until she walked through my door
—
and blew my fucking world upside down. Now I’m fighting again, only this time it’s not with my fists, but with a heart I want to own and a soul I want to merge with.
She doesn’t know it yet, but nobody walks away from an O’Shea.
Yeah, this is one battle I can’t lose.
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© 2016 Shara Azod
Cover Art: Marteeka Karland
Editor: Katriena Knights
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Contents
Patrick “Paddy” O’Shea was a bastard. He had no loved ones, no real friends. People feared him, and that’s what kept them loyal, most of the time. His iron-clad rule in the south of Boston was absolute, having built layers of snitches to watch his snitches to watch his crews. Politicians, police, even some members of the FBI were firmly in his back pocket, and he kept them there by bribery, extortion, and good old-fashioned threats of violence.
Old Man O’Shea, as he was referred to by the locals, showed no mercy. To anyone. He ruled with an iron fist and had no softness within him for anyone, including his own sons. Kieran and Conall were born to him from his wife, Fiona, a raven-haired, blue-eyed beauty he’d met on the Emerald Isle. Rumor had it he beat her, degraded her, and eventually killed her spirit, which then killed her body. Paddy made sure nothing could ever be proven. Fionn and Shannon were his children by his lifelong mistress, Gillian. At least, it was suspected she was his longtime mistress. She hadn’t actually been seen for years.
His sons had not been raised by their mothers. When each boy turned six, he was taken and raised in the worst slums by the most hardened criminal in the old man’s organization. Not even they knew they belonged to the notorious crime boss until they reached maturity. Paddy wanted his sons strong, tough, and utterly ruthless. He never suspected they would cling to one another and form a bond so strong nothing could break it. Nor had he ever imagined that, instead of loyalty, their upbringing would breed resentment that went beyond anger. That they would join together and combine forces to bring down the very man who thought himself untouchable…
The Getaway
…
Shivering, Shay clutched her briefcase close to her chest as she left her cozy triple-decker headed towards work. Just like every weekday, same time, same route. Only she wasn’t going to work. She’d probably never be able to return to life as she once knew it. Swallowing back tears that would do her no good, she kept trudging through ice and snow toward her destination.
Yesterday had been Jesse’s funeral, there was no doubt in her mind the jackals that were responsible for her brother’s death would come for her. If not today, soon. She’d been able to hide her hatred for Jean-Paul, the man who used to be Jesse’s best friend, until Jesse could get a proper burial, but she hadn’t been able to shake Jean-Paul’s watchful eyes long enough to get the stash of money her brother had kept for emergencies. Under the pretense of offering her support, the asshole who had set her brother up stayed close, monitored her movements, had her followed by the goons of her brother’s biggest enemy, Junior Toussaint.
Shay kept a brisk pace as she strode toward the private school Jesse had given her the money to start. In truth, it was a great money-laundering operation for Jesse, so he fully funded it, expanding a little every year so it looked like he was dumping a shitload more money than he actually was into the project. It was still the best-looking school in Mattapan, and the absolute best. Families here couldn’t afford the kind of education she provided, but her brother wouldn’t allow her to stray far from home. He sent her to college in Boston. He’d built the small school where she was the director and a teacher, paid for the teachers she had brought in, paid for the computers every student got each year, paid for their mobile internet—and sometimes had “talks” with parents who “lost” their kids’ equipment. Her kids got three square meals a day, uniforms that fit, coats in the winter, shorts in the summer and shoes all year round. Jesse’d bought and refurbished a home right here in the neighborhood they grew up in. Up until now she’d had the safest house in the entire area. No one was going to fuck with the only sister of Jesse Reid. Up till now she’d been the safest woman in the area, now she was hunted by a crazy man who though himself to be in love with her.
But Jesse was gone now, and soon the little empire he had carved out for himself would be taken over by Junior Toussaint and Jesse’s childhood friend, Jean-Paul Henry.
Tears she could no longer keep at bay burned tracks down Shay’s face as she moved briskly along the icy streets. Despite the bitter cold, her blood boiled with helpless fury. The only family she had was dead because of one man’s lust. Jean-Paul had wanted her for years, since she was far too young to be wanted by anyone. But Jesse wouldn’t let him or anyone else he deemed unworthy near her. That mean damn near everyone from their neighborhood. He’d even come to blows a couple of times with Jean-Paul over it. But no matter what, Jesse would have never betrayed Jean-Paul the way the other man had done. He didn’t know Shay had been sitting right next to her brother when he got the phone call from him for Jesse to go out to meet him. Jesse had been shot twice in the head at point-blank range right after leaving his house. Terrified, Shay had snuck out the back of her brother’s home and made to her house without anyone seeing her. But sooner or later, she wouldn’t be able to hide what she knew, or her hatred for Jean-Paul. Sooner or later, he was going to push up on her, and this time he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
There weren’t a lot of good options. She couldn’t stay in Mattapan, and she didn’t have the cash she needed to disappear. With men watching her everywhere she went, she needed to find somewhere to lay low. Just long enough for her to get the money she needed. There was no chance someone would find Jesse’s stash before she had a chance to get it—her brother had been no man’s dummy. But the problem was, no matter where she went in Boston, Junior Toussaint could probably find her and turn her over to Jean-Paul. In order for him to take over all of her brother’s “business” interests, Junior needed Jean-Paul as an intermediary with Jesse’s men—his army. And unfortunately for her, Junior’s men had access to anywhere she might run to. They could watch the harbor, the airport, the trains.
Junior was one of BPD’s “finest.” A detective who straddled both sides of the law. As a result, he literally got away with murder.
Shay was proud that her fingers didn’t shake as she unlocked the school’s side door, then quickly locked it behind her. Not bothering to shake the snow off her boots, she scurried down the empty corridor to her office. It was too early for anyone else to be here just yet, though thankfully it had always been her habit to get in and start setting up for the day before the crack of dawn. Whoever was watching her wouldn’t think anything was out of place. As quickly as she could, she shed her usual prim attire for casual, warm clothing and a different pair of snow boots. God, she wished she could’ve taken her car, but had she driven the few blocks to work Jean-Paul would’ve known something was up and would have alerted Junior.
Stuffing her discarded clothing into the back of the locker she’d seen fit to have installed in her office, thank God, she bundled up in the nondescript goose down, pulled a knit cap low over her forehead and eased out the back door. Instead of taking the T a block over from the school, Shay took the city bus towards Dorchester, not getting off and hopping on the light rail until she was well away from her neighborhood and deep in the heart of the one place she probably wasn’t going to be able to blend into, but damn sure wouldn’t get caught by the men who had killed her brother.
Irish South Boston.
