Page 198 of Sins of Innocence

"What punishment does our organization impose for rape?" she asks, her voice sharp.

The captain doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. Everyone knows.

Kara says it anyway. "Death."

The word lands like a stone in the silence.

"Every single one of those fathers could have been sentenced in place of their sons. The evidence existed to charge those boys through the civil authorities." She looks around the room. "If charges had been filed, they would be sitting in youth detention facilities right now."

Then her eyes harden. "If even one of those boys had succeeded in what they attempted, my son would have killed every last one of them." She waits a beat. "And I wouldn't have punished him for it."

Mick stands beside her. "Kenneth is right. I was made at eleven years old. My son could just as easily have been made at twelve." He lets that sink in. "Fitz will lead this mob one day and he will do so with ruthless strength."

No one misses what he didn't say. The question of blood has already been answered. Fitz was not only given the Shaughnessy surname at birth, but he is Brogan Shaughnessy's grandson.

Brogan stands one final time. "Kenneth Shaughnessy."

Kenneth lifts his head.

"For betrayal. For conspiracy against this organization. For trafficking women and children. For attempting to sell a child under our protection. For arranging unsanctioned murder. For conspiring with federal law enforcement. For conspiring to murder your boss."

He stops and lets every single charge settle in the hearts of his men, before he says, "I sentence you to death." Brogan turns his head and his eyes meet mine. "He's all yours."

I cross the stage with measured steps.

Kenneth tries to rise from the chair, but the soldiers hold him down.

He starts talking. Begging. Threatening. Promising. The words blur together and no one on this stage is listening anyway.

I pull my skean from its sheath. The one Mick gave me when I was inducted into the brotherhood. Every member of the Shaughnessy mob has a dagger just like it, given to them when they joined.

The steel catches the overhead lights. My name engraved beneath the Claddagh. The year I became one of them. Belonging forged into metal.

I pull the forceps I brought just for this purpose out of my pocket and instruct the soldiers on either side of Kenneth. "Hold his head."

He starts screaming when they obey me, making it easy to reach the offending appendage. I grab his tongue with the forceps. There are sharp serrations that grip his tongue and stop it slipping from between the metal tongs.

My skean flashes once and his scream turns into a wet choking sound as his tongue falls to the stage.

Blood pours down his chin.

I hold up the blade.

"I did not cut out his tongue for betraying our brethren." My voice carries through the gym. "I cut it out because he used it against my wife and daughters."

Someone says, "Feckin' hell."

I smile and several men flinch. "If any man in this organization makes the same mistake, he'll suffer the same fate." I let the words settle over the room.

Then I drive the skean straight through Kenneth's heart. "But betrayal is why he dies."

Kenneth gasps. His body jerks. His breathing grows labored and then so shallow it can barely be heard. I leave the dagger where it is until even that sound is gone and his eyes stare wide and glassy in death.

Pulling it out, I let the blood drip from the steel that welcomed me into this family years ago. Now it has removed a man who abandoned it long before today.

No one applauds. No one speaks.

The only sound in the Bunker is Kenneth Shaughnessy's body hitting the stage when I step back and the soldiers let him fall from the chair.