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Flynn: Callaghan Mafia, #4
Flynn: Callaghan Mafia, #4
Flynn: Callaghan Mafia, #4
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Flynn: Callaghan Mafia, #4

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She wants to push me away.


Molly doesn't want to be someone's arm candy.
Especially not mine.
But with everything else going to hell I need a strong woman like her on my arm.
Now I just have to convince her of that.
One night together could change everything.
If there wasn't a killer on the loose and my uncle wasn't trying to take over our family business.
Maybe Molly is right to want to run away.
However, I won't let her go.
She's everything I need. And what I want.
Together, we'll be unstoppable.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 8, 2022
ISBN9798201703066
Flynn: Callaghan Mafia, #4

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    Book preview

    Flynn - Savannah Rylan

    ONE

    FLYNN

    My scowl grew deeper as I clenched my glass. I gazed out the plane window, watching as the dark night sky rolled by. Clouds enveloped the wings of the private jet and wafted away, reminding me of the ebbing and flowing of ocean tides. It had been hard, running the Ireland part of the family’s business while my brothers had been gone. It was harder to leave those operations behind, though. I’d had my hand in all sorts of pies. Debt collecting. Payment of services rendered. The second my brothers left, I was the proud owner of an entire operation I only knew how to run a fourth of. I learned their jobs quickly. What Gael did with operations. What Declan did with clients. What Brody did in terms of security with our homes, our warehouses, and our meet-up spots.

    I wasn’t looking forward to this trip, though.

    I didn’t get out of Ireland as quickly as I would have liked. The plane had to be cleaned down and refueled. Some routine maintenance had to be done on it before it could legally get back up in the air. What should’ve been an hour-long process took almost four fucking hours. And by the time I was in the air, my brothers were already pestering me as to how long I’d been in the air.

    Needless to say, none of us were happy.

    Figures, I murmured.

    I turned my eyes forward and tipped my crystal glass up to my lips. The Daly whiskey poured down the back of my throat, reminding me of the small slice of home I was leaving behind. I hated the States. I hated everything to do with that place. Ireland was so much more stable. Quieter. More beautiful, especially where I resided. The longer I flew on the plane, the more I wanted to get back home. Snuggle down beneath my comforter, pull it over my head, and wait for this nightmare to be over.

    I knew it wouldn't be over until we were all together, though.

    At least you’ll experience the wedding.

    It was true. Declan and Ciara had bumped up their wedding so I’d be able to attend. Brody bumped up the baby shower so we could all join in as a family. It would feel nice to be reunited. Just, not under these circumstances. We had a lot of work to get done. We’d had a lot of distractions thrown our way that had loomed over our heads for far too long. I mean, I knew my brothers could be distracted with a pretty face and all that. I didn’t think it’d become this bad, though.

    Not like you’re about to do any better, I whispered.

    May I get you anything else?

    I looked up at the stewardess and took in her features. Her nose was a bit slanted to the right. No doubt, a product of her husband’s fist. Her hair was a bit thin at her right temple. Probably from the nervous tick she had developed. Gabriella, the woman we always hired out to fly with us, had been with us for years now. She never asked questions, was always available to work whenever we had to fly out, and always kept a smile on her face.

    Despite the abuse we pulled her from during one of our debt collecting appointments.

    Just some water. I’m not hungry, I said.

    She picked up my glass. Well, I’ll bring you a pack of nabs, just in case. Something small, if you get peckish.

    I nodded. I’ll accept that.

    Wonderful. I’ll be right back.

    As I watched her walk away, the reality of my situation slowly settled into my lap. I had to step up. I had to take my rightful place alongside my brothers once more. A lot had gone down in Chicago that required our attention, but I was more focused on my next personal step. I mean I agreed with the plan in place. I knew the plan would align us with a good family and give us the extra manpower we needed to solve whatever the fuck was going on.

    That didn’t mean I had to be happy about it, though.

    Gabriella came back with ice water and a small package of cookies. Ginger snaps. My fucking favorite. I nodded my thanks and she left me be, her heels softly clicking along the carpet of the aisle. A gaudy addition Gael insisted upon in this jet. Carpet was disgusting. It held onto so much dirt and dust. It was almost impossible to keep clean.

    But Gael never was one to compromise. At least, he hadn’t been.

    Until Colleen.

    Don’t get me wrong, I was happy for my brothers. They seemed to all find women that made them happy. Gave them what they wanted. Stood by them whenever shit got rough. But that kind of life wasn’t for me. I didn’t want to be tied down. I didn’t want to have to take care of anyone but myself. Taking care of another life was a massive responsibility. One I had never quite gotten the hang of.

    Just ask any of my exes.

    It’s all sex with this one!

    He’s absent, until you get naked.

    Shit boyfriend. Wonderful lover.

    I would’ve rather kept him on speed dial instead of at my side.

    I grinned as their voices ran through my head. What they never understood was that they were paying me a great compliment. I prided myself on my bedroom skills. I had honed them over the years with various women, enjoying their bodies while it lasted. My brothers always poked fun at me for it. They’d always ask me why I never kept a woman around. Or why I never settled down. Or why I always seemed to nitpick at their teeny tiny little quirks.

    Sorry, but slurping ice cream wasn’t a teeny tiny anything.

    Neither was snoring like a chainsaw.

    Or picking at one’s toenails.

    Or only showering three times a week.

    I shivered at the thought.

    My eyes fell to the laptop in front of me on the small table I sat at and I sighed. I didn’t want to open it. I didn’t want to accept my fate. But I knew my fate was for the good of the family. For the preservation of our standing amongst the families. Our father’s murder was still unsolved. We still had no idea who the hell burned down the warehouse. And no one had paid actual retribution regarding Abby’s kidnapping. There were still so many unanswered questions. So many things we needed to know.

    Including why the fuck Martin and Mom were flying off their rocker.

    You have to do it. You promised them.

    My voice felt otherworldly. As if someone else were talking to me. I mean I knew it was my voice. I heard myself speak. But I didn’t feel my mouth move. My soul still hadn’t latched onto the plan. Onto what I was about to do for the good of the family. But in order for our plans to grow, I had to make good on my promise.

    Especially since none of the other brothers were in a position to.

    Usually, something like this fell to Declan’s shoulders. You know, being the eldest and all. But he was betrothed. Due to be married in less than two weeks. And with my other brothers occupied with their own expanding families, I was the only one available to make a move like this. I sighed as I reached for the laptop. I opened it up, watching the screen come alive. I typed in my password and navigated to my email before I pressed a delicate combination of keys on my keyboard.

    Which pulled up a login screen.

    After typing in yet another password, my laptop went into encrypted lockdown mode. A safe mode for opening the kinds of emails Declan sent me on a regular basis. I navigated back to the email and opened it up. I read the small message he had for me before three attachments caught my eye. I drew in a deep breath before downloading them. My hand trembled, so I closed it into a tight fist.

    Come on, Flynn. It’s not like they’re asking you to have a full-fledged family.

    The email from Declan didn’t say much. He simply wished me luck in my choice. Yeah. Luck. Like it was a lucky thing to get married to some stranger. Nevertheless, the plan made sense. My brothers and I had to band together and show Martin that we weren’t to be trifled with. That we weren’t to be fucked over by his bullshit ways. But on the off chance that he had some sort of plan up his sleeve for taking us down, we needed another family on our side. A family we knew we could count on.

    And the only family we seemed to never piss off were the Fitzpatricks.

    The attachments finished downloading and they popped up. The two Fitzpatrick twins, Tara and Alana; and Molly. The youngest. I stared at Tara’s picture and wrinkled my nose. The dark red hair didn’t do anything for me. Especially in the frizzy triangular shape that seemed to take over Tara’s face. Her blue eyes stood out. The freckles splattered across her face were kind of cute, too. But when I started reading up on some of her hobbies and her likes, I moved onto her twin sister.

    Because I sure as hell wasn’t going to get wrangled into some bullshit book club meetings.

    Despite the twins being identical, it was easy to tell them apart. Alana’s hair was always straightened, which left her dark red hair sprinkled with strawberry blonde highlights. Ones that couldn't be seen on Tara’s head because of the crazy curly mess that was never tamed. Alana had a straighter nose, too. A bit more petite. Then again, it looked a bit too perfect. And so did the shape of her body. Her curves were too ideal. Her eyeliner looked practically tattooed on. And with her breasts being significantly bigger than that of her sister’s? I passed on her as well.

    The last thing I need is to be saddled with plastic surgery bills.

    Then, I pulled up Molly’s picture. The youngest, and certainly the most fiery. Everyone knew of the tales of Molly growing up. All the sneaking out she did. The back-talking that could be heard for miles. Everyone who was anyone in Chicago had witnessed Molly’s meltdowns as a teenager at least once. And while that bothered me, at least she knew what she wanted in life.

    Unlike her sisters, she had raven black hair. So black, in fact, that in the right light it looked deep blue. Which accented the sapphire blue eyes she sported, just like her sisters. Hell, like their entire family. She stood taller than her sisters. Right at five-ten. With long legs and thick breasts that sat a bit unevenly on her chest. Her nose had the infamous Fitzpatrick hump. Her hair had a soft beach wave to it that gave her hair volume without making her look two steps away from crazy. And, she didn’t sport any makeup. None, whatsoever.

    All natural. I like it.

    I read up on the bio Declan added for her and I sighed. She was only twenty years old. Not even legal enough to drink. That might not bode well for her personality. She looked hot, sure. But, to me? She might as well have still been in diapers. I hadn’t encountered a woman under twenty-five yet that could hold herself with poise. That could keep herself together during times of distress. That could generally take care of herself without looking to me to brush her hair or pick out her outfit or figure out what the hell we were doing for dinner.

    She was the only one I’d be able to stand to look at, though.

    I pulled up Declan’s email and started writing back. I knew he was waiting for my response. Mostly because there was still a lot to get done on his end before I landed. Gael was in the process of finding me a place to stay. Brody was interviewing drivers and bodyguards for me to utilize while I was in town.

    And Declan?

    Well, he was scrambling to get everything in place to marry me off.

    Declan,

    Molly will do just fine. I’m still five hours out from landing. I’ll see you soon. And tell Gael to find me a place that’s got a tub. You know how I am with my baths at the end of the day.

    F. Callaghan

    Is everything all right?

    Gabriella’s voice sounded in my ear and I sent off the email. I closed my laptop, then gazed up at the smiling woman waiting for me to answer.

    Do you think you’ll ever get married again? I asked.

    She paused. I’m not sure. Why do you ask?

    I shrugged. No reason. Did you like being married?

    Being married?

    I nodded. Yes. I mean, other than what you endured. Was there ever a point in your marriage where you actually enjoyed it?

    Her smile faded into a soft grin. Before he became the monster he was, yes. I enjoyed every single day of my marriage.

    Do you miss him?

    Not one bit, Mr. Callaghan.

    You know you can call me ‘Flynn.’

    She giggled. I know. Seems a bit unprofessional, though. Don’t you think?

    I shrugged. Why don’t you get us a nice cheese plate and come sit down with me? Take a load off?

    Are you sure, Mr. Callaghan?

    Flynn.

    Yes. Flynn. Are you⁠—

    Make sure you add some of that smoked gouda, too. That goes so well with the honey ham Declan likes to stock on these flights.

    She smiled. I’ll be back in a flash.

    And that request bought me enough time to stare at Molly’s picture. To really take her in before we landed and married our futures away to one another.

    At least she won’t want for better sex.

    What I did wonder, though, was what she’d want out of this

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