Free Falling, Book 1 of the Irish End Games

Finn sat in the trailer across the table from his brother and one of the bowsies who followed him without question. He smiled at the thought. That would be just about everyone. He shuffled the cards and dealt them out to the pockmarked gypsy he knew for a fact he shared a mother with.

  He had a plan, a bloody, wonderful plan.

  It might not work as well for the culchies around here who knew him or the rest of his “family” but it would work a charm for everyone else. Especially now, with all that’s happened. It wasn’t just him and his kind feeling the lack but everyone. That evened things up some. They’d all feel more agreeable to opening their doors to a rag-tag group of survivors than they would a lying, thieving gang of gypsy hoodlums. Finn found himself chuckling and his brother looked up from his cards with a worried look on his face. Finn grinned at the bowsie and then his brother. He knew he would win the hand and the one after that. He knew they let him win. It was one of the perks of rank.

  Might not even need to use force at first, he thought, laying down his winning hand on the table. At least not with the ones who didn’t know him. But then, need and want were two very different things.

  Didn’t he, of all people, know that, if nothing else?