“Not even two days back and you’ve already got drama with a girl,” Rory mutters, shaking his head at me. “Some things never change, eh?”
“Oh my God,” Saoirse gasps. “You called him!”
“I’m a knight in shining armor, remember?” I say, throwing her a wink. “Consider this my horse.”
She groans and glances at Rory cautiously. “What are the chances of you letting me out of this car?”
“Less than zero, love,” he replies without so much as glancing at her.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she scowls before twisting around in her seat, radiating fury. “You can’t just take me wherever you want! It’s called abduction.”
“I see it more as a rescue operation.”
“I told you before—I don’t need rescuing.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Why?” she demands. “Because you’re the big swinging dick in Ireland now?”
“No,” I reply calmly, “because I have the ability to be objective here. And you do not.”
“I know my own mind, asshole.”
“Then tell me why you’re going back to an abusive, ungrateful motherfucker,” I say. “And don’t say you’re scared of him. Fear isn’t a good enough reason.”
Rory must be listening and putting the pieces together, because he looks up at me in the rearview mirror with a panicked gleam in his eyes. “Cillian, tell me this isn’t Saoirse fucking Connelly.”
I whistle, impressed. “Wow. Your reputation precedes you, Saoirse.”
“Actually, this is about your fucking reputation, Cillian,” Rory balks, his tone shifting completely. “This is what got you driven out of Dublin in the first place!”
“Careful, Rory. You’re starting to sound like Da.”
“The clan needs a man like him.”
I keep my feet up, but my tone drops an octave and gets icy-cold.
“I’m not my father, Rory,” I growl. “Nor do I want to be. I may not be the don you’re used to, but I’m the one you’ve got. And for as long as that’s the case, you can keep your opinions to yourself. Is that understood?”
I don’t blink. Don’t budge. I just stare at him in the mirror and show him with my shimmering eyes that I mean every fucking word of what I just said.
“Yes, Don Cillian,” he replies softly. “I understand.”
“Good man,” I say, relenting. “Now drive the fucking car.”