Joe and Sean grew up in the rough and tumble world of car bombs and stabbings in Dublin. When Joe caught Vin pretending to be a cab driver to lure Sean into a trap, he shot him. Days later, they coincidentally attended a party in Cindy’s apartment, which is next door to Suzie’s House. Drew shot them both while attempting to arrest them. Since then they have holed up in the apartment of a woman who was out of town, then stayed with a friend on a farm on the outskirts of town. In both places they were nearly caught.
“He SHOT you?!” Mike showed no signs of inviting Sean or Joe to sit down. They stood around in the hall by the front door, talking like they weren’t going to stay more than a minute.
Mike and Carl lived in a split-level ranch on the East side. Sean couldn’t think of a better place to hide from the law. If he could talk the boys into letting him and his brother, Joe, stay, they’d be safe.
“It hurts like H’ll.” Sean grabbed his arm as if the bullet wound were fresh. It did hurt – when he grabbed it. “Could you spare a brew to take the edge off?” Sean gave Mike his best help-a-bloke-out look. It actually worked. Before Mike gave it half a thought, he was leading Sean and Joe to the kitchen where he served cans of Miller all around.
Well, it wasn’t Guinness, but it would do. Sean popped the top. “Thanks. That goes down mighty fine right now.”
“How long ago was this? That you were shot, I mean.”
“Three weeks ago, but we’ve had another run in with the man today. We were staying with Ravenhorst when he showed up.” Sean glanced over at his brother while he gulped down his beer.
It seemed Joe had been unusually quiet lately. Quiet and distant. Not a good sign in a man given to depression and strange fits. Sean didn’t fancy waking up on a jet headed for Ireland.
“And the first time he walked in on a party you were attending? That’s where he shot you?” Carl piped up. It wasn’t all that strange for Carl to be quiet.
“That’s right. He lives next door, on Jennifer St.”
“Isn’t that where that she-dog Miranda lives?” Carl asked Mike.
Mike nodded. “She came into the store the other day and started ranting about having been charged a late fee she didn’t think she deserved.”
“That isn’t what bothers me most. It’s the way she acted all buddy, buddy, like we were her friends.”
Mike nodded agreement more emphatically. Then he turned sharp eyes on Sean. “It sounds like the two of you are wanted men.”
“That we are,” Sean admitted blithely. “Between one thing or another with this man, and the rest looking for us, we haven’t been able to rest our bones anywhere.”
“I can see how that would be a problem,” Mike nodded, lips pursed thoughtfully.
“Point being we need a place to stay.” Sean let the request hang in the air. He’d leave it there all day if he had to. No need.
Carl was quick to assure him, “You’re both welcome here as long as you need.”
Mike shook his head. Sean was afraid he’d take the offer back, but there was more wonder and derision than denial in the man’s expression.
“What gets to me is that you let them walk in on you like you did. From what you said, they got the drop on you twice. You know where they live. If it were me, I’d take the fight to them.”
Sean kept his expression bland, but inside he bristled. The man had a point. Said like that, it seemed a matter of honor. Maybe he and Joe weren’t the finest people in the world, but they had always lived and died by their honor. Shouldn’t they be doing something about the FBI agent? Sean glanced at Joe. Joe was always the first to stand up for their honor. Didn’t that have everything to do with his shooting the FBI guy’s sidekick in the first place?
Joe grunted denial, his upper lip curled. Clearly, he had no intention of doing anything.
Well, then, it was up to Sean. He’d been meaning to pay the people living in that house a visit anyway. “You’ll get no argument from me, Mike.”
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