- “Go leor leis an seanfhear.”
I laugh out hanging up the phone. That man; I owe my life to him and Ian is playing a dangerous game. He’s fucking up, causing problems and using our name and our grandfather for personal gain. If he’s not careful his skull will meet a bullet from my Ruger. Our grandfather has given us everything and to dishonor him with such blatant disrespect calls for far worse than my bullet. It calls for torture. He’s lucky grandfather stops me, pulls me back in, otherwise, he would have been dead a long time ago.
“In time grasshopper.”He always says smiling as the night’s air crosses over my heated skin; the memory alone makes me smile at the content in which he speaks.
Stopping across the street, leaning against the streetlamp, I watch her from the shadows.
Her long red hair is distracting. The strands are a blend of fire and rubies. Shit, it looks like it’s been spewed from the deepest volcano. Her body is delectable; wearing skintight black jeans, dirty white sneakers, a white tee tied in a knot with the cute coffee shop apron around her waist.
She’s a tiny little thing, but despite being small, she has curves in all the right places. Petite with soft features and a killer smile. She’s the epitome of a sweet, catholic, good girl brought up right—everything I’m not. She’s nowhere near my type. She’s clean, beautiful, untainted and unstained from the hell that is the streets and hard living. I like them fucked up and blank but my cock that’s straining against the seam of my jeans, apparently, he likes her a whole hell of a lot more than he’s supposed to.
She’s a creature of routine.
Even in the small amount of time I’ve been watching, I know that. She hasn’t deviated from her routine, not once since I’ve been watching. She gets up at 6am. Runs around the lake by my house. Followed by two big dudes who drive in a vehicle. Lazy bastards. She works at the coffee shop past my grandfather’s flower shop. I know this because during one of my nightly checks I saw her, my mind registered it was her and well here we are. She’s a mystery. A beautiful enigma. And she’s a creature of routine, she never changes. She lives on an OCD schedule. Always with the same men following her.
She’s quiet and kind and beautiful. She’s a blue baller, she gives any man within ten miles blue balls. I witness it daily.
I know this because my hands are on my rock-hard balls right now as I watch the beauty laugh and joke with customers. Her red hair on fire around her like a flaming halo.
Two men inside the store, their eyes are locked on her. I watch them, one pawing his cock under the table and all I want to do is walk in there put my gun to his cock and blow it off. The other guy is drooling into his cup.
Her whatever they are, don’t even notice the men inside practically eye-fucking her before them. It makes my blood boil and my skin crawl.
Stepping closer toward the small coffee shop, I want to put an end to the show as she walks past the frosted glass window, my eyes meet hers as she looks out into the night. She stops. Frozen, her hand holding an empty coffee cup
I wink at her, and she smiles at me. I can see and feel the nerves rippling over her body through the glass. Her eyes dart to the bodyguards then back to me. I see fear in them.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as she moves from the window. I step toward the door, and she comes back into my view as my hand pushes on the glass. My phone is still vibrating as her eyes scream fear. She shakes her head at me and my jaw clenches. Cocking my head to the side I see the two guards stepping from the stools in the corner. Oh, fuck! Now you’re going to move. Fucking phone won’t stop vibrating. Pulling it fast from my pocket with anger radiating from me, my hand is still on the glass and hers hastily moves over it. As she walks off toward the back of the small coffee shop, I can’t see her anymore as I answer the fucking call.
“What.”
“Busy, are you?”
“Yes, No, Not really.”
“Good. I have a job for you.”
“Right.”
“I will text you the address and the details.”
“Fine.” Hitting end, I slip it back into my back pocket of my jeans and start walking back toward my apartment with my mind running over the beauty with sad eyes and two guards who I wouldn’t mind fucking up a little. She seemed scared of them or at least their reaction to me. It could be who I am, maybe. The whole east side and west, fuck most of Chicago knows who I am and who my family is. But I can also be unseen by them. Invisible when needed. Feared when required and loathed by many always.
The message comes through as I get to my steps.
It’s a seedy motel on the outskirts of town and a guy who hasn’t paid his debt even after a two-day extension.
Right. Recover money, beat his ass and leave.
Don’t need anything from inside. This job requires my fists and fists only.
***
Pulling up I kick in the door. I have no time to fuck around. Not tonight or I will be late to follow her home. Tonight, I want to see where this little lady lives so then I have more places to watch her from.
The complete shock of splintering wood has the little dick bag falling backward over the chair. His eyes wide and his skin going pale, sweat beads over his forehead as he realizes that I’m not one of the Mr. Asia’s wannabes that kick in the doors of these motels seeking drug money debt.
He realized that as my black boot stomped down inside the room. Looking back there is no way I can kick the door shut to conceal the beating that I’m about to lay down on this guy. It’s splintered in two and hanging from one hinge. “Well, that’s a bummer,” I say toward what used to be a door.
