Jonah stayed with the girls in the end. I thought about trying to sneak over to Magnolia’s because that’s what you want to do. When you love someone, if they’re in danger, you want to be with them, you want to protect them. I’m the only person who can protect her how I want her to be protected and I can’t, because if I do, it becomes obvious that she needs it.
The whole thing’s fucked. I’ve got the boys bringing home girls from bars, and then I walk them out of my place a few hours later, kissing them and sending them on their way, hoping whatever eyes of Roisin’s are looking, that they’re thrown by it.
I don’t want to be kissing other girls.
Managed to keep it off Magnolia’s radar, managed to make her stay over at the Compound the last few nights, too.
But the whole thing shits me — sneaking around my own city — locking away the girl I love to keep her safe? Fuck it, no—
So I called a Boroughs meeting a few days later. We have these once in a blue moon.
The heads of all the crime families all in one place? Recipe for disaster. We all get along fine — just all of us in a room is an invitation for trouble…
The Boroughs is what my dad oversaw, now me.
Six families, six cities.
London is the epicentre of the Isle’s Underworld; with me at London’s helm, I sit at the top and everything that flies in, floats in or tunnels into the Isles comes through me — with the exception of Dublin.
The Irish run their own outfit. Three guesses who runs that one, but you’re only going to need one.
Could count on one hand the amount of times we’ve had one of these meetings…
I see them all myself individually all the time. See the Bambrillas every other day but the Boroughs mean business. Barnsey should be here, but she always sends the boys. Calls it a sausage fest.
Daisy’s not a fan of the Boroughs either, if I’m honest. Told Rome to distract her so she’s in the kitchen making him an Easter pie.
Magnolia’s upstairs working — seems like a risk, maybe, but find me a more secure building in London than this one right now.
“So she threatened you?” Santino (Bambrilla, Liverpool) sits back in his chair.
I nod.
“Not good,” Hughie McCracken says in his thick Glasgow accent, banging his fist into his mouth, thinking.
“How serious a situation are we talking here?” James Devlin (Belfast) asks.
“Serious.” I nod once. “Daisy killed one of Roisin’s boys last year.”
“What?” Danny Jukes (Birmingham) blinks.
Hughie shakes his head. “Tell me you’re joking—”
“It was an an accident,” Christian pipes up and Jukes points over at him.
“Let’s not hear from the lad who’s shagging her right now.”
“It was an accident.” Santino says loudly over the rest of them. He loves my sister like she’s his own daughter.
“I hired them for a job and—” I start.
“I thought you didn’t work with the MacMathans.” Jukes’ eyes pinch.
“Right.” I nod. “I forgot I answer to you—”
I run my tongue across my bottom lip, daring him to keep going.
“They went rogue—” Christian shakes his head. “Started shooting people—”
“So?” Hughie shrugs.
“So, Daisy’s never been down for shit like that.” Jonah shrugs.
“She didn’t know I hired them—” I tell the room. “She didn’t know who she was shooting when she shot them—”
“She was defending someone,” Christian says and our eyes catch.
I like Tiller, like to think I’m a better man these days than I was before Parks found me — but I do find myself thinking for a second how much easier the last year of all our lives might have been if Daisy had just let him die.
Jukes’ nods coolly. “And now we’re paying for it—”
“Cut the shit, Danny—” Carmelo nods his chin over at him. “How many times has one of us had to come and bail your fucking dumbarse out of a gulag?”
“That happened one time, and it wasn’t even you, it was Storm, so—” Danny yells, standing to his feet, so Carmelo gets up on his.
I breathe out my nose and rolls my eyes. “Yeah, and who do you think Anatole Storm is answering to? The tooth fairy?”
I get some chuckles for that.
Danny shakes his head. “If I’m putting my boys on the line for this, I want to know what I’m getting out of it,” He yells, looking from me to Santino, ignoring Carmelo completely.
“My protection,” I tell him.
Jukes shakes his head. “Doesn’t sound like that’s worth all that much, ma—”
And then the boardroom door opens and Magnolia Parks barely fills the frame.
“Oh, hello!” She beams at the men and I freeze.
I glance over at Christian whose eyes are wide, sprung, like he’s in trouble.
“Hello?” Devlin frowns at her, confused.
Jonah’s mouthing over at her, ‘get out. Get the fuck out’, but she’s too busy glancing around, eyes all bright and excited to have an entire room’s attention.
“Hi.” She smiles politely, ever the picture of London’s aristocratic society.
“And who are you?” Jukes stares over at her.
Magnolia walks deeper into the room and Christian’s as subtly as possible trying to tell her to stop but she’s not paying attention.
“Oh, I’m Magnolia Parks—” She touches her chest. “I’m one of Daisy’s closest friends—” And with that, Christian and I catch eyes, and he bites down on his thumb to stop from laughing. “And Julian’s current…” She trails, finger pressed into her mouth, thinking.
“Lover?” Carmelo offers unhelpfully and Magnolia shrugs, happily accepting it.
“Sure.” She grins.
The tension in the room shifts some.
“Lover!” coos Jukes.
“Ay! Lover boy!” Hugh jeers.
Magnolia looks unfazed at their teasing, almost like she doesn’t hear it. It’s actually pretty spectacular to watch her conscious denial in action. Legendary stuff.
“Sorry. I — I was upstairs working, and I got lonely—” Her eyes catch mine, but I look away because I don’t want my cheeks to go hot in front of everyone.
“I didn’t realise you were having a boys lunch—”
“We do love a boys lunch,” Devlin interjects.
She smiles apologetically and turns to leave.
“Where are you going!” Devlin calls after her.
“Come in!” Hughie tells her, grinning. “Join us.”
“Oh.” She shakes her head demurely. “I shouldn’t like to intrude.”
Santino gives her an unimpressed look — immune to her charm, apparently — what a fucking gift. “You already have.”
“Come on—” I beckon her over, eye Santino to let him know that fucked me off a bit.
She perches down on my lap, settles in, then looks around the men. “So, what are you talking about?”
“Oh—” Jonah shrugs dismissively. Nothing much, just plotting the demise of our rival. “Uh — football.” He gives her a reassuring smile.
She glances around the room apologetically. “I’m not a sports girl.”
Christian rolls his eyes. “You don’t say?”
“What kind of girl are you then?” Hughie asks.
“The best kind.” She beams and Christian rolls his eyes.
“What do you do?” Devlin asks, leaning in.
“Well.” She flattens her skirt. “I’m the style editor for Tatler.”
Santino looks over at her, maybe mildly impressed. “Are you?”
“Yes,” she tells him, nose in the air. “And I have to say, I love that Camp-Collar Printed Silk Shirt from Valentino you’re sporting. It’s chic. Fresh, very age appropriate — you look great.”
Santino stares over at her blankly for about four long seconds and I wonder if she’s offended him, if I’ll be shielding her from two gang lords now instead of one — and then his face cracks wide with a laugh.
He leans back in his chair, howling.
Magnolia glances at me, confused and delighted.
“So Tatler.” Devlin nods at her. “Who would you say is the best dressed?”
“Here?” Her eyes flicker around the table of Britain’s most notorious men.
She purses her lips for a second. “Christian, probably. Then Julian, then Jonah—” He tosses her an unimpressed look.
“You wear too much black, I’ve begged you to stop.” she tells him, before she eyes Carmelo. “Then you, I suppose.” Tosses a glance at Santino. “Well, perhaps you two tie for fourth.”
“Then you—” She points to Jukes. “Then you—” She points to Devlin. “Then—” She stops talking but smiles politely at McCracken.
The room erupts in laughter.
“Are you from Scotland?” she asks gently.
“Yes?”
“I can tell — it’s the jeans.” She nods like she already knew. “In Ireland and Scotland people tend to wear denim that is, in my opinion, somewhat ill-fitting—” Oh fuck. I’m going have to fight one of my oldest friends, aren’t I? This fucking girl, such a motherfucking headache.
“Instead of a skinny jean—”
“I like skinny jeans.” He frowns. Holy shit.
“Perhaps we could try a slim fit pant.” She shrugs her shoulders. Holy shit.
“Like a boot cut?” McCracken asks and I double take.
“No—” She shakes her head. “My God, no. Kelly Clarkson’s stylist from 2003 called, she’d like her jeans back—” Magnolia sniffles at her own joke but literally not another soul laughs and no one knows what she means.
That alone is enough to put Jonah in stitches. Doubled over.
“What are you doing now—?” Magnolia asks McCracken bright. “Shall I take you shopping?”
He blinks a bunch. “I—”
I pull her backwards in to me. “Were in the middle of a meeting, Tiges.”
“Oh—” She laughs airily. “Of course. Well, what time will you be done?” She checks her wristwatch.
“In a few hours?” I shrug.
“Oh.” Her face scrunches up, and the stares over at him. “How about I just take your sizes down and run out and buy a few pieces?”
“Um—” McCracken looks over at me.
“It’s no trouble,” Magnolia tells him brightly.
He shrugs, worn down. “Okay.”
“Great!” She jumps to her feet and launches over to him, fishing out of her pocket a little Métier leather-clad measuring tape and she spreads it out across his shoulders.
Hughie freezes.
“What sizes are you?” she asks, looking at him.
“I’m 6”0. A 38” in the chest—” he tells her and she measures him anyway.
Carmelo licks away a smile.
“43 for shoes.”
“Okay.” Magnolia nods. “Suit?”
“38L.”
“Right.” She makes a note on her phone. “Waist?”
“32”.”
“I’ll just measure your inseam—” She smiles up at him and he looks over at me panicked as she goes to bend down and Christian and I both yell, “No!”
I shake my head. “No — that’s — just — we can guess.”
“Oh.” She frowns, not really tracking.
Christian and Jonah are cry-laughing at this point.
“Okay.” She bounces back over to me, kisses me on my cheek.
“Koa will take you,” I tell her and she nods. “You’ll come back after?”
“Well, yes.” Her face falters. “I’ll be styling your friend.”
She walks to the door. “Okay, bye!” she sings to them all. “Such a pleasure!” And then she walks out.
There’s silence for all of three seconds before laughter breaks in the room like a burst damn.
“Lover!” Jonah crows.
“He’s a lover!” Hughie jeers.
I roll my eyes.
“Does she measure your inseam a lot?” Jukes asks and I toss him a look.
“Alright, everyone—” I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, shut up!” Carmelo yells. “Lover’s got something to say—”
Santino whacks his son in the chest and our eyes catch.
Feel like he can tell from my face alone that I love her.
Hate feeling see-through but here I am, and I need his help to keep the two girls I love safe.
Later that night, the meeting’s done and everyone’s gone home.
Magnolia’s having a steam and I’m just about to join her when there’s a knock at the door as I’m walking past it.
Frown at it, annoyed to be opening the door like a fucking servant, and there’s someone I’m not expecting to see.
“Tiller.” I frown.
“Hey.” He nods his chin at me.
“What are you—” I frown more. “Are you here for my sister?”
“No, not — not really.” He shakes his head, licks his bottom lip. “Is she…”
I shake my head a bit. “Her and Christian are—”
“I know.” He nods.
That strings him a bit, you can tell. Haven’t seen him since they ended. I kind of liked him in the end.
I scrunch my nose up a bit. “Sorry.”
He shakes his head.
“Cian Gilpatrick flew in to London a few days ago.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
I look over at him, surprised. “I know.”
“Daisy killed his brother.”
“Yeah—” I give him a look. “I know.”
His face goes serious, the way it does when you’ve properly loved a person. “Are they coming for her?”
I cross my arms. Nod. “It looks like it.”
His brows lower. “Because she saved me?”
I don’t say anything, just shake my head and shrug.
He breathes in, face all pinched like the thought hurts him. “If you need anything, you tell me — I’ll do it.”
