“Hi. I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m actually looking for someone who works here.”
His head tilts to the side, considering me. “Name?”
I exhale. “Uh… yeah, so you see, that’s the problem. I didn’t get his name…”
The level of annoyance on this guy’s face reaches new levels. I feel Lily’s anxious energy at my back, but press on.
“So, this guy…”
“Okay…” He repeats in my same tone of voice, and I narrow my eyes at his obvious imitation of me.
“I met him a couple of weeks ago... he said he works here… I don’t know—he’s tall. Like, really tall, with short, dirty blonde hair…” The bartender stares at me with a blank expression on his face. “Uhm… he had a spider web tattoo across his hand, and he goes by Rí.” I trace my fingers over my knuckles and the bartender visibly stiffens, his eyes widening. “I—err—do you know his name?”
He looks at me like I have ten heads.
“Aye, I do,” he answers, but offers nothing else other than to give me a quick once-over.
I shift under the scrutiny. “You wanna share it?”
He looks at me for another moment, then to Lily, as if deciding something, before folding his arms across his chest and looking down his nose at me.
“Koen O’Rourke.”
Everything stops.
“O’Rourke, as in?—”
“Aye,O’Rourke,as in…” He holds up two fingers in the shape of a gun before pretending to fire it.
I’ve only been in Boston a little over a year, but even I know that last name.And what it means.
Lily lets out a breath, and I feel her grip my shoulders. “Shit.” She takes a step back, attempting to pull me with her. “We should go.”
I shrug her off, keeping my attention on the bartender.
Fuck, Rí is Koen O’Rourke. O’Rourke as in the Irish mafia? I suppose that makes sense but like, how high up is he? Like what level of committed are we talking here?
“I—I need to talk to him.”
He shakes his head, going back to wiping down glasses. “No, I certainly don’t recommend that now, miss. Best you and your friend get on your way, in fact. If Koen didn’t give you his name, that’s because he didn’t want you to have it.”
The guy suddenly looks nervous, checking over each shoulder, but the bar is still quiet.
“Briar,” Lily hisses in my ear, still trying to tug me toward the door.
“It’s important.”
Despite my continued insistence, the bartender just shakes his head. “Still can’t help you, lass, even if I wanted to. Koen’s not here.”
“Like… just stepped out, or?—?”
“Gone,” the bartender confirms. “Back to Ireland.”
“Backto Ireland?” I repeat.
He nods. “Yep, he’s gone to meet up with his fiancée.” He eyes me pointedly. “I don’t know if, or when, he’ll be back, so like I said lass, it’s best ye both be on your way.”
Fiancée? Koen has a fiancée? Koen’s gone back to Ireland, for his work with the Irish mafia?
