☆ ᴡᴀᴛᴛʏꜱ 2024 SHORTLISTER!! ☆
A tragic misunderstanding. A murder. A secret. An unlikely partnership. A spirited countess and an enterprising racketeer.
~~~
Manchester, England. May 1925.
The Roarin' 20s. An era of glamor, decadent parties, jazz mus...
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The moment Rose was out of the room, Liam exhaled a covert sigh of relief. Squaring his shoulders, he turned back to Jimmy. His rival's son glared up at him in forced silence, the handkerchief stuffed unceremoniously into his mouth.
“Now that there are no more distractions, how's about you and me get down to business?” Liam asked. A muffled sound of protest came from Jimmy's obstructed mouth, which Liam chose to ignore. “Ransom, Jackson, our guest needs a flat surface to write on.”
His brothers shared a smirk.
“O'course, Liam,” Jackson said.
The pair of them each grabbed one side of the desk, lifted it, and maneuvered it across the room. Archie pulled Liam's now-vacant chair out of the way, and Ransom and Jackson set the desk down directly in front of Jimmy.
Liam retrieved the stack of folders from Mickey and laid out the documents on the desktop before Gallagher's son.
“He'll need one o' his arms, lads,” Liam said to the two burly dock workers who held Jimmy in his chair. An eyebrow cocked, Liam appraised his captive with a cool stare. “Which one, Jimmy? You right-handed or left-handed? Or d'ya even know?”
Behind his gag, Jimmy expelled a string of irate sounds.
“What was that?” Liam asked, his brow furrowed in fraudulent confusion. “Didn't catch it.”
He made a flippant motion, and one of the dock workers yanked the handkerchief from Jimmy's mouth.
Jimmy coughed and gagged, his eyes narrowed at Liam in a comical attempt at derision. “I'm right-handed! And go fuck yo'self!”
“Just 'cause it's the hand ya use to jerk off don't mean it's the hand ya use to write,” Ransom remarked. “And your penmanship's worse than mine! Sure ya ain't s'posed to be left-handed?”
“You can go fuck yo'self, too! Bloody prick!” Jimmy shouted.
“Enough,” Liam said, his voice low and dangerous. “One more outburst, and ya might be leavin' this room without all your teeth.”
Jimmy glowered at Liam with every ounce of poison he possessed. “Bring Rose back!” he demanded.
“No,” Liam refused with a firm shake of his head. “Miss Appelbaum stays where she is. Ya haven't yet signed over your father's assets to me.”
“I ain't signin' nothin'!”
“Yes, you are,” Liam stated. He fixed Jimmy with a stare that could wilt lilies. “You'll sign. Otherwise, I'll burn down Gallagher Automotive Factory, make it look like you did it, and fuck your lady-friend on the ashes.”
Jimmy's eyes widened, then narrowed. He seemed to be wading through a great conflict of the mind. When at last he responded, his voice was an angry hiss. “You wouldn't dare.”
