Kieran by Kassanna Page B

no coming back from. He gazed at Martin. “I want to know where the hell Danny Boy Sullivan is right fucking now.” First he would get his woman back then he would find Roscoe and put the bastard down personally.

Chapter Seven
     
    Streetlights flickered on, and the temperature dropped with the onset of night. Kieran stared at the neon-yellow beer sign that brightened the picture window. Rica was somewhere beyond the walls of the building. He would break that bitch down brick by fucking brick--whatever it took to get his pretty girl back. He reached into his coat’s inside pocket and pulled his gloves free, slipping his hands into the warm leather.
    He’d contacted his brothers and called in his crew. Shannon, Fionn and Conall would meet up with him later. It was time to tie up loose ends.
    Krank glanced over at him. Gone was the jovial personality. His expression was cold, with his lips forming an angry slash across his face. “Say the word, boss.”
    Goo rocked his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “Ready whenever you are.”
    Martin released the clip to his gun, looked at it and popped it back in before holstering it and pulling the other one free from the other side and repeating the process. He nodded at Kieran.
    Esteban trotted across the street. “Man, looking at that place is like taking a glance back in time. That place is old. Red-haired older guy is playing pool, last table in the back. I counted twelve men, three more in the back, the bartender, five at the bar and two at a table in the corner--almost missed them. No sign of Rica.”
    Kieran stroked his jaw. “If it’s twelve you see there are probably another eight to ten that you don’t. Get in, get out and leave no witnesses.” He reached in his pocket and pressed the key fob. His trunk popped open. His men leaned over, looking behind him. Five three-gallon containers filled with gasoline were lined up and strapped down in the interior. “Make sure this motherfucker burns to the ground.”
    They nodded. He took the lead, walking ahead of them, his tweed coat flapping around his thighs as he moved. Kieran eased the heavy steel door open and stepped over the threshold. A few men looked his way. The guys at the table stood. He stalked farther, passing them. Kieran grabbed the eight ball from the antique pool table as he moved. A player stepped in front of him. He raised his arm and slammed the ball into the man’s jaw. The guy stumbled back.
    “Get the hell out of my way.” Danny was ahead of him, and he had a score to settle. Grunts, the crash of glass breaking and a few shots popped off behind him.
    Danny Boy clutched the pool cue tightly and raised it like a bat. “Finally ready to meet your maker? Your daddy ain’t here to protect you.
    Kieran threw the hard ball into the air. “When has Paddy ever done a damn thing for me?” Kieran rushed Danny. With the wooden ball tight in his fist, he swung up as his nemesis brought the stick down across his shoulders.
    It snapped, sending shards of wood flying in all directions. The hit didn’t register. His blow connected with the older man’s chest. He reared his hand back and slammed it into Danny’s temple. The big guy lurched forward and wrapped his arms around Kieran in a tight bear hug. His arms pinned to his side, he dropped the eight ball. Danny’s fetid breath washed over his face, a mix of stale nuts and hard liquor.
    He gazed into the green eyes of the fella who’d raised him. There was nothing there. The old enforcer had given up his soul a long time ago when he was beating the shit out of children. In that moment Kieran’s rage welled up inside him, and he felt every lick of the razor strap that cut across his back growing up. He bowed back and flung his head forward to ram it into Danny’s, then did it again.
    The asshole’s grip loosened, and Kieran kneed him in the ribs. Sharp groans escaped through Danny’s lips with each strike. Someone fell into Kieran, thrusting