Luck of the Irish: Brass Knuckles & Tattered Wings, #7

By Martin Svolgart

After a freak accident killed his wife and son, Pritchard slipped into alcoholism to drown his sorrows at a blue-collar bar nearby to avoid the dead and empty house. But then a teenage girl asked for his help, and it turned his entire existence around.

 

Pritchard's building his base in Glens Falls, vetting new people, and finding the right crew.

 

Having been given the responsibilities that comes with being the man at the end of the table gives Pritchard a new understanding of all he has to live up to as captain to Joseph "Papa Joe" Montanari—the benefactor of Hell's kitchen, and what he needs to be for Glens Falls.

 

It also comes with lessons that lie too far outside the man that Pritchard is. Like his enemy's lack of morals and ethics, which put him and a teenager in mortal danger.

Crossing a vigilante angel is unwise, though, and Pritchard sets himself up for a calculated act of vengeance—this time aided by new friends.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: MarLau Publishing
• Release date: Jan 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9788793966154

Book preview

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Luck of the Irish

Brass Knuckles and Tattered Wings #7

Season 2

Martin Svolgart

Copyright © 2020 MarLau Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

ISBN: 978-87-93966-15-4

Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

Cover design by Juan Padrón

Edited by Laura McNellis

MarLau Publishing

Denmark

After a freak accident killed his wife and son, Pritchard slipped into alcoholism to drown his sorrows at a blue-collar bar nearby to avoid the dead and empty house. But then a teenage girl asked for his help, and it turned his entire existence around.

Pritchard’s building his base in Glens Falls, vetting new people, and finding the right crew.

Having been given the responsibilities that comes with being the man at the end of the table gives Pritchard a new understanding of all he has to live up to as captain to Joseph Papa Joe Montanari—the benefactor of Hell’s kitchen, and what he needs to be for Glens Falls.

It also comes with lessons that lie too far outside the man that Pritchard is. Like his enemy’s lack of morals and ethics, which put him and a teenager in mortal danger.

Crossing a vigilante angel is unwise, though, and Pritchard sets himself up for a calculated act of vengeance—this time aided by new friends.

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Table of Content

Day 19

Day 20

Day 21

Day 24

Day 27

Day 28

Day 29

Day 31

Day 34

About the Author

Day 19

THREE FULL DAYS WITH no one trying to kill them and no one trying to beat them up. Pritchard saw that as a good start, yet everybody had eyes in the back of their heads, and Pritchard felt unsafe and afraid for Sally and Tommy at all times—even at home. It was stressing as all hell. He’d somewhat still managed to enjoy their company. And Cat’s because he didn’t move far from Sally. He still sounded like an ass, though, yet the look in her eyes when giving back had changed.

The only thing that had been missing that weekend was Rose. Pritchard had called and asked her to stay at home, and he’d promised to have Frank delivered on Friday and picked up on Sunday. The girl was not happy with how things were going, and he couldn’t blame her, yet it was the teenage side that wasn’t happy. She’d looked forward to coming home and training with him. She’d looked forward to hanging with Tommy and Liam. She’d looked forward to Pritchard making his bacon pasta dish. She’d looked forward to being in her childhood home with her dad, alone.

At least, all that was what Pritchard heard under her breath as she said she understood and appreciated his care for her and her dad’s health. A smart and sensible girl like that? Of course that was what she’d say. But he heard the pouting, even over the phone.

Today, the crew of handymen that Frank had helped collect went to work at the gym, Tommy and Liam were at school, and Duncan was back in New York, waiting for the call that his Irish friends had landed at the Newark Liberty International Airport.

To make room for all those people, all but the lookouts were helping Sam fix up the bar. That included Pritchard, climbing around on chairs to paint the edges and corners of the ceiling, while Hemish, the tallest of them all, could reach to paint the entire ceiling without needing something to stand on.

Around opening time, the usual drunks came and helped, getting half their beers for free. Others were not in a healthy enough condition that allowed them to do more than watch and give advice—good and bad along with some very creative ones that sounded like they belonged in a Mr. Bean episode, yet it wasn’t explosives in paint.

Hey, big guy! If you’re still around and working in about five hours, you can borrow Gregor to paint the floors, old Jerry said.

What? Gregor asked. I’m not going to help paint the floors. I got a shot back.

It’s easy, Jerry argued. "And to shorten the time span, we just buy you five shots of iced Jägermeister, and then the big guy can grab your feet and wipe the paint across the floors with your drunk ass."

Gregor growled. "That happened once."

Twice! Sam shouted.

Don’t you have silence of confidentiality or something?

"Actually, no, but I don’t tell people outside my bar what goes on in here. Sam grinned. And I have Jäger if Hemish is up for using you as a paintbrush. We might cover the area faster."

Sure, Hemish said, grinning at a grumbling Gregor. He went to the bar where Pritchard couldn’t hear the conversation, but he quickly caught on once Sam began loading a shaker with ice.

Pritchard finished his stretch and ended up in the corner. His shoulder was not a fan of him for having his arm above his head for that long, and he knew he needed to let it rest.

Here we go! Hemish shouted. He then carried a tray around the room, heading for Pritchard first.

No, I gotta pick up my boys after school.

No, you don’t. Cat’s out. He’ll do it. Hemish shoved a glass at Pritchard.

I hate Jäger.

No, you don’t. It’s why it’s cold. You can’t taste cold things as well.

There was just no winning with this guy, so Pritchard sighed and grabbed the shot.

Hemish nodded Pritchard to follow, and they went to the table with Gregor, Jerry, and two others whose names Pritchard wasn’t sure about. Hemish placed the tray with five glasses on the table and grabbed one for himself.

Oh, no! Gregor said.

Come on, Jerry sang, grinning and accepting a glass.

Gregor finally did, and Hemish held up his glass. To Sam’s joint!

Sam grinned, holding up an alcohol-free beer behind the bar.

Pritchard shivered in expectation as he held up his own glass, then downed it with the others. That wasn’t as bad as he’d expected.

See? Hemish grinned.

Pritchard merely nodded.

A guy he’d never seen before stepped in. Hemish