Once Kissed: An O'Brien Family Novel (The O'Brien Family)
Cecy Robson
Chapter 1
Curran
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I nail my brother with my best cop face. Any perp would freeze, curse, or take off running. Declan doesn’t so much as blink. It shouldn’t surprise me. He’s never been the type to run from a fight, even before he earned his title as assistant DA.
“Curran, quit your bitching. It’s a cake assignment,” he says. “Look at it as a break until you’re back on the job.”
“You sayin’ I can’t do the job?”
Declan’s jaw tightens hard enough to stiffen every muscle in his face. Either I pissed him off or I’m onto something. “I’m saying it wouldn’t hurt to have more time before you’re back on the streets,” he answers, keeping his voice low. “What happened to your partner Joey isn’t something you just get over.”
“Who’s saying I’m over it? I know I fucked up.” And so does everyone on the force, I don’t add. “That doesn’t mean I’m washed up or can’t do my job.”
Declan’s already stiff posture tenses even more. “I never said you were washed up, or that you can’t—”
“Might as well have.”
“Curran, don’t you get it? It’s not a punishment.”
“Don’t you get it? While you’re sitting here behind a desk, I got dealers and gangbangers offing people left and right—and you’re asking me to play bodyguard to your librarian.”
Declan leans back in his office chair, clearly annoyed, but also worried. “She’s not a librarian, Curran. She’s an intern in her last year of law school who’s helping me with research in the Montenegro case.”
“Like I said, librarian.”
“Jesus. Just help me out, will ya?” he snaps, rubbing his forehead hard.
Ya? Okay, now he’s pissed. Behind that new suit, clean-shaven face, and hundred-dollar haircut, my brother’s Philly through and through. One more smartass comment from me and the “youz” are going to drop like water ice and his fist will swing my way.
With a groan, Declan pushes away from his desk and stands to face the window. Useless gesture, if you ask me. His view is a brick wall. But I suppose it’s either that or pace, and his closet-sized office isn’t big enough to take more than a few steps.
The thing is, I can read faces. He knows as much, and doesn’t want me to read his now. “Curran. This is my chance to move up,” he says. “Zabrinski, head of Homicide, is retiring in a few months. I’ve paid my dues, worked the shit cases, and won trials seasoned DAs thought I should plead out.” He looks at me then. “If I can put Montenegro away, it would upset organized crime from here to Jersey.”
“And seal your position in Homicide,” I finish for him.
“Yeah. It would.”
I cross my arms. “So why the hell do I have to babysit your librarian? If anything, I should be watching your back. You painted a bull’s-eye on your forehead by taking this case. Vincent Montenegro isn’t just a mob boss. He’s a legend only a dumbass would cross.” I roll my eyes at his glare. “Calm your shit—you know what I mean.”
“Don’t you think I know that? It’s the reason I don’t want anyone else helping me with this case. No other names. No one but me for the mob to target.”
“And no one else to steal your glory,” I add, which earns me yet another glare. “Declan, I know you want the promotion, just like I know you want the street cred. But don’t be stupid and get yourself killed in the process. Let me watch your back. The librarian can get another badge to shadow her.”
“I already have someone watching me.”
I straighten. “One of the boys in blue?”