The Mafia Boss

Ch. 27: I don't answer to anyone.

I violently shake Torin's shoulders, cursing his need to sleep through the angry voice coming from outside the car.

"T, wake the fuck up!"

His eyes lazily open, the severity of the situation yet to dawn on him.

"We fell asleep!" I explain, gesturing towards the windows which—thankfully—are blacked out.

"Who's here?" he asks, sitting up.

His muscles protest, having been subject to cramped conditions for the last however many hours.

"I'm not sure, but they sound angry."

Another loud knock sounds.

"O'Brien!"

"Yeah! Give me a fucking minute!" he barks back, trying his hardest to locate his trousers in the little lighting we have.

I mirror his actions and quietly redress, trying out different excuses in my head.

"We could say I wasn't feeling well?" I suggest, hooking my bra back in place.

Torin doesn't respond.

"Or maybe the car broke down and our phone batteries died."

Again, silence.

"Torin!"

"Relax, Imogen. I don't answer to anyone."

I stare at him, unsure if I want to kiss him or punch him. "T—if Frank or Finn find us half naked in the middle of nowhere, they'll put a bullet through your head."

Torin secures his shirt in place and confidently kisses me on the lips. "I'd like to see them fucking try."

With that, he calmly exits the car, leaving the door open for me to follow. I cautiously do, focusing on inhaling as much oxygen as I can. I smooth out my hair as I stand on shaking legs, prepared for the wrath of Frank O'Niel and Finn Gallagher. Instead, what I get is a glare from Michael—Eva's older brother.

"You two are lucky I'm not my father."

Torin growls.

"Everyone is out looking for you!" he yells.

The lowering sun casts a shadow across his cheeks, giving the illusion of a sharp bone structure.

"Michael—"

"No! Don't Michael me!" he shouts. "I know what goes on behind closed doors. I know you two are fucking each other any chance you get, and I know my sister is in love with your under boss."

I say nothing, sensing his need to vent.

"Your stupidity is going to get you all killed!"

"Watch your fucking tone," snarls Torin, gaining on him in a second.

I swear I see Michael cower.

"You're not boss yet. Remember who you're talking to."

Torin's right. Michael is set to follow in his father's footsteps when the time is right, but for now he doesn't have the authority—therefore the right—to be speaking to Torin in this way. Michael will make a damn good boss. From what I remember, he's fair and efficient and I—unlike Torin—can see that his scolding comes from a place of love.

"T, leave him alone."

Torin refuses to move.

"He's right," I say, placing my hand on his tense shoulder. "We're being reckless."