Boston Blood

Thirty

Cillian drove as fast as he could to Aidan's place downtown. He almost crashed the car, unable to concentrate on the road ahead. When he arrived he sprinted up the stairs and was just about to open the door when he realised he was panicking. Sweat was dripping down his face and back and he was finding if difficult to breathe. Get your shit together. What the fuck is wrong with you?

He took out a tissue and wiped his forehead, taking a few steadying breaths before he walked into Aidan's expensive apartment. Everyone was there, which was unusual and wasn't decreasing his rising anxiety levels. Aidan was nursing a whiskey and Damien was pacing the room, nervously. Bridget was lounging on the couch, seemingly unbothered by whatever the situation was. JP and Dotser were smoking on the balcony. Cillian slammed the door and roared; "What the fuck is going on? What happened?" He tried to sound angry and feign annoyance about being called down here but he was beginning to worry that it was sounding more like fear.

"Relax, you know how Damien is. Everything is under control. Well, at least it will be when I sort it out, as usual." Aidan's tone was difficult to read. Cillian could usually tell when he was lying but for now, he looked unsure. "So, what the fuck was Damien on about, then? Where is Frankie?" Cillian demanded as he plonked down on the couch beside Bridget. She sat up straight and gave him a knowing look of warning. "Everything is fine, Cillian. Chill the fuck out. Have a drink." Aidan mused as a young woman sauntered in from the bedroom to whisper in Aidan's ear. Bridget let out a low, impressed whistle but Aidan dismissed the woman immediately and she scarpered back into the other room and slammed the door.

Cillian could feel the anger raging inside of him. He hated when Aidan acted so calm about everything when something was clearly wrong. I bet he's fucking high, again. "Right, well if you're not going to tell me what's going on then I'll go ask her myself." Cillian went to stand but Bridget grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him back down. "For fuck's sake, Aidan just tell him." She pleaded.

"Jesus, okay. So it appears that young Colin has been made aware of Frankie's new affiliations with us. One of Dotser's regulars plays the ponies with Colin and he blurted out the whole thing. Fucking rat prick." Aidan was starting to slur his words making Cillian more agitated.

"Right, so what? We take that little prick Colin out once and for all? We can't risk him opening his big fucking mouth. What if he tells Russo's crew?" Cillian didn't want the plan to go tits up. He wanted Tommy Ryan dead so bad it had consumed him but in that moment, all he could think about was what would happen to Frankie if Russo found out she was actually working for them? He shook his head and pressed; "Aidan?"

Aidan swirled his drink in his hand, contemplating. After a minute of silence he smirked. "No. No that little prick will come in useful. He still owes me money so he'd be fucking crazy to open his mouth to anyone. He may be a piece of shit, but he's not stupid. My best guess is he's fucking pissed that his old man left Frankie the pub and he's going to hold this over her to have her right where he wants her."

Cillian swallowed, hard. He could feel his heart racing, again.

"But what does this mean for tonight. Do we still want Frankie to meet Russo or do we need more time?"

Aidan laughed. "Of course she's meeting him tonight. Look, all we need to do is keep that bitch in check until she can convince Russo that Tommy is fucking him over. Once Russo's crew starts to crumble from the inside out, that's when we make our move. Tommy will be dead and we'll be free to take over."

"No. We'll give Colin crumbs if he keeps us informed on what's happening in the pub. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes for us to try meet there. Once she starts working for Russo, he'll no doubt pop in from time to time to check on her. We can't risk him seeing us there much. We can keep our eyes peeled from a distance. Besides, after what I found out about young Frances this afternoon, it'll be nice knowing Colin can keep an eye on her and let us know if she's up to something. I tell you one thing though. If Tony Russo finds out what she did, oh dear." Aidan was laughing now, nearly inaudibly and Cillian tried to remain calm.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Aidan?"

"Let's just say, little miss high and mighty isn't so unlike her father, after all. She's a fucking snake. A rat, Cillian. We need to keep a close eye on her or we're all fucked. Maybe I should just kill her myself now, it might be a fucking kindness at this stage."

"I don't understand, what do you mean a rat? What did she do?" Cillian was standing now, his eyes pleading for Aidan to explain.

"Remember ten years ago when Russo got done and his operation went to shit? Everything he had been building was taken from him. He had to start from scratch. The fucking pigs even killed five of his crew, remember?"

"Yeah, of Course I remember, that's how we were able to regain southie and increase distribution." Cillian wasn't getting it. He stared at Aidan and suddenly, the penny dropped. He felt the blood drain from his face.

Oh, shit.