Free Kieran by Kassanna Page B

the car. “What was that about?”
    “I don’t trust that boy. Get in.” He pressed the key fob and the double clicks sounded.
    Rica pulled the door free and jumped in. “Martin is an idiot but a harmless one.”
    “Little girl, you learn in this business--you can’t trust no one.” He started the vehicle. “Kieran has you spoiled.”
    “Really? And how is that?” She stared out the windshield, watching the wiper blades dissolve the white flakes. Beams of sunlight broke through the cloudy sky, making the bit of the slushy snow on the road glisten.
    “Since he brought you to the club, he has protected you--and not just him. It’s like a law on the streets that you are guarded by the O’Shea brothers.” He snorted. “Making an enemy of those boys is like signing your own death warrant.”
    “You sound like you been hitting the club hooch, old man.” She leaned back in the seat.
    “I like a good shot of brandy like anyone else, but I have been watching. They are fighting their daddy for control of South Boston. Paddy has owned this area for years…I’ve been waiting for them to grow up.” The cars around them were thinning. He took a sudden right turn.
    She sat up and looked around. They were surrounded by older buildings. Rica peered over at Roscoe.
    A heavy sigh escaped him. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but I didn’t have any other choice.”
    Uneasiness scarped at the back of her mind. “What are you talking about, Roscoe?” Discreetly she patted her jacket for her phone. The familiar bulge wasn’t there. Rica openly skimmed her hands up and down her coat in dread as she remembered where she left the device.
    The older man continued. “Kieran wasn’t moving fast enough.” Roscoe stopped and put the car in park. He twisted in is seat and peered at her. His face was devoid of emotion. “I needed to force his hand.”
    The passenger side door was thrust open, and cold air whipped through the interior. She gazed up. Casually dressed big men stood beside her.
    One looked down at her and scowled. “You can move, or I can move ya .”
    She swiveled in her seat. “Roscoe?”
    “I warned you. Told you not to trust anyone.” He tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry.”
    “What the fuck does that mean?” The other guy reached in and locked his meaty hands around her wrist, dragging her out. No way in hell was she going out like this.
    I’ll make sure Kieran knows where to find yo --” The door was slammed, cutting off Roscoe’s words.
    She hung back, and her feet slid across the sidewalk. The other fella closed his fist around her braids and yanked her forward. She hit the cold concrete with a thud, slamming her face into the abrasive surface. Rica lifted her head. The red taillights of Roscoe’s automobile disappeared as he took a turn. Dampness spread across her top lip. She licked her lips, and the metallic taste of blood flowed over her tongue. Her scalp stung as she was hauled up by the hair to stand.
    “Danny Boy was right. She is a pretty little thing.” The larger man leaned down, staring into her face. “I bet you’re all kinds of fun flat on your back.”
    “Fuck you.” She spat.
    “Oh, we got a live one.” The other fella laughed.
    It hurt to breathe. Her nose had to be broken and blood streamed down past her lips seeping into her mouth. Chilled air seeped through her open coat, making her numb. She narrowed her eyes and took in the man holding her. Because she was petite, most people didn’t take her seriously. She reared her leg back and plowed it between his thighs. His eyes widened before his face went slack and his skin paled.
    He dropped to his knees and wrenched her down with him before he released her. She gripped his shoulders and scrambled to her feet. Hastily, she kneed him in the jaw. He swayed before falling back. Rica pranced to the side and swiveled on her heel. She met the gaze of the other guy before sprinting down the pavement. The