I wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t.
She tasted the whiskey in the back of her throat. She’d lost count at two bottles, but apparently she’d managed to down another two before the pub had kicked her out.
Wanker. After she’d paid up front and gave the guy an extra twenty quid to let her drink right from the bottles, too.
She was lying there with her eyes closed when she heard footsteps approaching, stopping in front of her cell.
“Get up, Walsh,” the matron said.
She peeled an eye open. “What?”
“You’re out.” Her sour face transmitted the truth to Aisling. “Not that I think you should be going anywhere.”
Ah, good ole Sean. The wee gobshite was fit for something after all. Aisling suppressed her groan as she sat up. “Yer not still mad I boked on yer shoes, are ye?”
“Get up, now, or I’ll forget you’re in here.”
Aisling stretched as she stood, snagging her jacket from the bench and sauntering through the door in a casual way she didn’t feel in real life. When the matron led her out to the processing area, Aisling let out a groan.
“Bugger.” She turned to the matron. “Just do me a favor and lock me back up, aye?”
Trevor Clarke slowly shook his head. “Get your things and let’s go.”
“Feckin’ hell, did my brother call ye?”
“Yer mam did.”
“Ah, fer fuck’s sake,” Aisling groaned again. “Now why’d Sean have to go and do that? I told him not to tell her!”
He smirked. “Which is exactly why he did. Come on.”
Aisling went through her belongings to make sure nothing had been nicked before following Trevor out of the station.
“How much am I into ye for this time?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about it; it’s been taken care of. You’ve been released without charges. You’re coming to work for me full-time now.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Pull the other one.”
“No, you are.” He opened the passenger door for her and pointed. “In.”
Knowing she had no choice, she climbed in while he walked around to the right side. “I’m a shite errand and odd jobs girl,” she called out. “I’ll remind ye of it right now, if ye don’t recall that fact.”
Once the doors were closed and he’d started the engine, he hesitated, staring out the windscreen for a moment. “Faegan Lewis.”
She sighed. “Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph, and the donkey they rode to Jerusalem on, that stupid twat? What’s he done now?”
Trevor looked grim. “He’s after my daughter.”
She squinted at him. “Okay, I know I’m fecking wasted, even fer me, but I thought you just said he’s after your daughter?”
“He is. Maisie. Because she mated and married Tamsin Lewis.”
Aisling’s eyes widened. “That feckin’ cunt’s daughter? Oh, bloody hell.” She sat back, now understanding Trevor’s long stare. “Yer not just comin’ after me for help because I’m?—”
“No. You’ve dropped into my lap at a fortuitous time.” Trevor turned to her. “Faegan has no clue who you are, right?”
“I’d expect not. Never had direct dealings wi’ him. He mighta heard of Da or me brothers, though. But it was my impression that he rarely makes it over there. Never heard anyone talkin’ about him, other than discussin’ what a cunt he is. Unless someone’s working for or wi’ him in secret, which is doubtful. None of our lot would, at least. We’ve always sided with the wolves over those batshit corgi wankers.”
