“I can tell. I’ve always been good at reading how people react to me, to situations. It’s not difficult to see you don’t want me here.”
She stares at me. I wonder if she’s willing me silently to disagree. I can’t. As much as I think she’s breathtakingly beautiful, I can’t give her what she needs. If she is innocent, if she is just a victim in Bragan’s games, then the truth will come out. But I can’t trust her.
“My family are my life,” I inform her. “Havin’ ye here doesn’t change that. I’ve helped many a youngen to find their way. It’s nothing new. But I’m careful as to who I let in, who I allow to see the inner workin’s of my world.”
“I understand. I’m not a threat,” she tells me.
Her lips curve, a slight pout to the lower one makes her seem younger than her twenty-two years. I don’t care how beautiful she is though, she’s not to be trusted. No matter how much I find myself drawn to her.
“Aye, that’s what all the criminals tell me.” I look away, focusing on the garden instead.
“I grew up alone with only my mother. Anyone who she brought home I saw as a threat as well. So, I understand. The moment I can, I’ll leave.” Her words are firm, confident. I don’t argue with her. It will be for the best. At least she knows she has to go. Saves me from doin’ it the hard way.
“Good.” I turn once more and look at her one final time before headin’ indoors. I can feel her eyes on me. They follow me everywhere I go. Two feckin’ magnets that can’t get enough of the attraction.
It’s not good.
Not one feckin’ bit.
* * *
The music fills the club.It’s packed; heavin’ with clients who are throwin’ money around like they’re swimmin’ in it. I don’t mind them pissin’ their hard-earned cash in my club, though.
Miren strolls by me, her confidence in waitressing has grown, and watching her has become my new favourite thing to do. I swallow back a mouthful of my pint, the Guinness dark and strong, just how I like it. Sully saunters in, his eyes tracking each of the girls, but he doesn’t focus on them for too long. I wonder what his story is. I know he’s ex-army, been on the front line, but other than that, he hasn’t talked much about any woman in his life.
He prefers his own space. He is one of two of the brothers who don’t live at the clubhouse, Tye bein’ the other. Sully chooses to live in the city because he wants the hustle of Belfast. I can’t deny, it’s a drawin’ card. At nearly thirty-five, he’s had to ward off a fair few beauties. Those who want an older man in their beds.
“What’s goin’ on?” He settles in beside me and signals for a Jameson with a splash of cloudy lemonade. His signature drink.
I can’t stand the shite. If I’m havin’ a whiskey, it’s neat. No feckin’ ice, and none of that sugary drink to spoil the flavour.
“Not much. Money is comin’ in. Drinks are flowin’,” I tell him. “And the shipment will be comin’ in soon, which means we’ll see a payday.”
“That’s needed,” Sully agrees. “Haven’t had many clean-ups lately,” he tells me. “I met with some 1%ers a few weeks ago. They’re looking to move into Antrim.”
“Oh, aye?”
“They seem sound enough. Tye didn’t find any shite on them, so I’m guessin’ they keep their noses clean. As much as they can.” He gulps back his drink before ordering another. “Maybe we can have them here for a few days. It’s always good to have connections we can use.”
“Aye, I agree. I don’t mind either way.” I turn my attention back on the stage where Heather is stepping up to do her dance. But my gaze strays over to where Miren is serving a table of blokes. They’re drunk, which has me on edge. If any of the customers touch my girls, they lose a feckin’ hand. It’s in the rules. And these wee bastards look like they enjoy breaking rules.
Miren sets their drinks down, and one of them goes to grab her arm. I don’t realise I’m movin’ until Sully’s grip on my collar drags me back down onto the bar stool.
“What the feck ye playin’ at?” I growl at him.
“If you keep runnin’ after the wee lass, everyone will get the wrong impression,” he tells me with a grin on his face.
Cheeky fecker. He’s right, though. I’m losin’ my head over a girl I don’t know. One I can’t feckin’ trust.
“Aye, you’re right, but I can’t allow feckers like that to take over our club,” I tell him, and I note how he looks over at them.
Slowly, Sully releases me and smirks before he finishes his drink in one big swallow and pushes away from the bar. He saunters over to the table where Miren is still tuggin’ away from the arsehole. Sully grabs him by the scruff and lifts him from the chair. In the process, Miren is freed from his hold, and I watch as my cleaner drags the wee bastard outside.
Miren looks up at me as our Enforcer, Brute, heads for the circle of friends, causing them to scatter towards the door. Chuckling, I shake my head and make my way to the back of the club. I need to finish some work in the office before I head home. I’ll leave the brothers here to keep an eye on things. I know the girls will be all right.
I turn the corner, and something soft and delicate slams right into me. Blue-grey eyes flick up, and they lock on my stare. She’s so feckin’ beautiful, and fer a moment, I’m speechless being this close to her. There’s a small freckle on her nose, and my fingers itch to touch it. To feel her soft skin, to see if it’s as fragile and delicate as it seems.
“I-I… I’m sorry,” she mumbles, her pouty lips shimmering in the dim light of the hallway.