bullet to all feelings. This archer, she hates me now, but her heart is as good as mine. Even if she fights me for it.”
“One thing to keep in mind,” he said. “A woman’s heart was designed with thievery in mind—it was designed so that it couldn’t be tampered with. Not even by the best marauder around. You turn the stolen key, or pick the lock, and it might be your heart she claims.”
I hadn’t come to seek advice. I came to confess. So I sat back, settling in, comfortable with the uncomfortable. “I didn’t come here to confess my plans to you, Father. I came here to confess my sins. Or in this case, sin. Through my own hatred, I’m going to use her. Even though it’s unfortunate, it’s not enough to stop me from doing it.”
“It never is,” he muttered. “It never was for Maraigh, either. But we’ll see what happens this time.”
“We shall see,” I said. “No one has proved me wrong yet.”
That was that.
Father Flanagan watched as I walked down the street. He’d done it ever since I was a boy. Usually it was Killian and I together, come to say our penance and then off to act like little fools afterward. Father Flanagan used to say that he was surprised we could make it two steps from the church before trouble found us.
Make it a little harder for the devil, will you now, lads. The devil is fond of cheap dates.
Sticking my hand in my pocket, I whistled while I walked down the street, looking forward to my meeting with Harry Boy and family. Family, meaning his sister. I wondered if she was going to finally make good on her threat and punch me in the face, since her bow and arrow wouldn’t be allowed in my building. Despite my acceptance of death, I demanded to live long enough to taste the sweetness of revenge on my tongue.
As I passed a warehouse, I noticed two guys standing against it, smoking cigarettes. My eyes didn’t linger, but I took notice of them. Halfway down the block, them still trailing me, I stopped in front of another warehouse.
I turned, facing them. “What do you need, fellas?”
“You Cash Kelly?”
Remember—stupid questions. Still, I gave him a brilliant answer for it. “All day.”
“Our boss has a message for you.”
One of them stepped forward and punched me in the gut. It wasn’t hard enough to make me double-up, but the other one decided to land a blow to my nose before I could move. I shook it off, blood splattering in all directions. “You done?” I said.
They both grinned at me.
My fist flew through the air so fast that neither one of them had time to react. I crushed the guy’s nose that had broken mine. He cursed, and before he could go for his gun, I pulled mine and shot him point blank in the forehead.
I felt the pressure of a gun behind my head, and the other fella snatched my gun from my hand, taking it. “You’re going to die a coward, just like your old man. He was never needed here. Never. He came here from Ireland on a martyr’s cause—”
Before he could utter another word, I turned on him and knocked the gun from his hand. It landed on the ground and slid. He was big enough to absorb my punches, but not strong enough to keep up with them. I was quick, and when I hit, I hit hard and in all the right spots. He danced with me while trying to get closer and closer to the gun again. When he went to duck and lunge for it, I grabbed him by the head and stuck my knee in his nose. His eyes rolled and he fell to the ground.
Leaning down, I grabbed him by his hair. “Look at me,” I said. “I want you to look at me when I say this.”
He blinked at me once, twice, but then closed his eyes. I let his head fall to the ground, before I took a step back, simultaneously looking at him and leaning down to grab my gun.
The fucker was playing possum, because in a second, he had snatched the gun and had it pointed at my head. I kicked his arm a second before the blast shattered it to pieces. The gun went back, but a bullet still whizzed through the air.
This time, I kept my foot on his wrist, picking up the gun