This time, there’s real panic in his tone. It’s on the edge of desperation. But it doesn’t move Saoirse one bit.
She spares a glance at her father. I notice the disappointment flare in her eyes before she looks away again.
“You don’t strike me as a stupid bimbo,” Brody says, forcing the attention on him again. “So you should know who Brian Murtagh is.”
I’m so annoyed with the phrase “stupid bimbo” that I almost miss Saoirse’s expression.
She definitely knows who the man is.
Brody sees it, too. He nods.
“That’s right. He’s the politician running this fucking city. Do you know who works for him?” Brody continues. “Everyone. That includes the fucking cops. So go ahead. Make the call.”
Shit.
“That’s enough, Murtagh,” Sean intercedes. “Padraig doesn’t have the money to pay either one of us today. We’ll have to come back later.”
“Later?” Brody repeats. “I want my money now.”
Sean’s eyes flicker towards Saoirse. Then he shrugs. “It’s your debt to forgive or not. Just leave the girl alone. She’s got nothing to do with any of this.”
Saoirse realizes exactly what Sean’s words imply.
“No,” she says immediately, stepping in front of Padraig. “I won’t let you hurt my father.”
“How about we make a deal?” Brody suggests. “I’m willing to forgive your father’s debt to me…”
My heart sinks. This is not gonna be good.
“…and all you have to do is take on the debt yourself.”
Her eyes go wide for a moment. The hope in them reveals just how young she is. How innocent. How naïve.
“I can do that,” she says immediately. “Just give me a few weeks and I’ll find a way to get your money to—”
Brody laughs loudly, cutting off her words.
“Money?” he taunts. “I don’t want your money. That’s not the kind of payment I’m after.”
She freezes as the color drains from her face.
Her eyes flicker to mine for the briefest of seconds. Hopeful. Desperate.
Then Brody’s oozing voice cuts back in.
“I want you to spread your legs for me and scream my name,” he croons. “But I’m a generous man. I’m willing to give you a choice. You can suck my cock if you’d rather not give up that tight little pussy just yet.”
The red of her hair suddenly seems all the brighter against her pale skin.
“I’d sooner cut off my own arm and eat it,” she spits at him.
His eyes narrow. I know he’s underestimated the sting of rejection. Especially with his enemies standing right here watching it all go down.
“That can always be arranged,” he hisses.
I make eye contact with Sean.
My intention is all there in my gaze. And even if it wasn’t, I know Sean will understand. That’s the benefit of being raised by a man like Ronan O’Sullivan.