Chapter FOURTEEN
THE NOISEinside the pub was at levels that grated Finn’s nerves. While he loved listening to live music and the whole uplifting spirit of being part of a crowd and getting lost in music, the atmosphere at the Fury didn’t compete. This wasn’t the young and vibrant music-loving crowd. There weren’t happy smiles and laughter. Instead there were two large tables filled withRocky and his mates, plus all their girlfriends. Instead of a band, the focus was on the television and some sporting activity Finn was doing his best to tune out. Stack was having an argument with Blue, and the raised voices competed with the multiple other conversations going on around the table. However, it wasn’t long before all the attention had turned to the two arguing men.
“I don’t givea flying fuck who you are. No one speaks about Ginger like that,” Blue hissed across the table.
Stack smirked. “For God’s sake, calm down. I was giving her a compliment.”
“The fuck you were!” Blue pushed back from the table, the legs of his chair screeching across the tiles. “You basically said she was a slut.”
Stack stood and leaned his hands on the table as he stared at Blue. “And I’ll saywhatever I want.”
“Not about my sister, you won’t.”
Ginger rose from her position at the end of the table and moved to stand close to Blue. The resemblance when they were next to each other was striking, both with the flaming-red hair that gave them their nicknames.
“It’s okay, Frank,” Ginger said to Blue as she placed a hand on his arm. “Stack didn’t mean anything by it. Did you, Stack?”
“Whatever.” Stack dropped back into his seat.
Before Blue had a chance to respond, Rocky returned to the table, accompanied by Peter. Rocky looked around, obviously noting the tension in the room. “What’s going on?”
Blue’s nostrils flared. “Nothing,” he mumbled. He turned to retrieve his chair from where it had been flung back to rest against the next table, scowling at the table’s occupants,who were wide-eyed at the display of temper.
Finn breathed a sigh of relief that the argument didn’t seem to go any farther. In his current frame of mind, he didn’t feel up to dealing with any fallout, and there would definitely be fallout if these two really got stuck into it.
One of the girls—Finn couldn’t remember her name—vacated her seat for Rocky, and Ginger placed a quick peck on hischeek before promising him a drink and heading to the bar.
“Where’ve you been?” Finn asked.
Rocky looked at him and blinked a few times. “What?”
“I asked where the two of you have been?” Finn glanced between Pete and Rocky. Both looked worse for wear, with their decidedly dazed expressions. Finn sort of expected it from Pete because unfortunately he’d seen the guy stoned on numerous occasionsin the past, but he wasn’t so accustomed to seeing the out-of-it look on Rocky. Rocky was usually hard and focused. This afternoon he seemed unfocused and spacey.
“Peter and I had something we needed to do, right, Peter?”
Pete nodded, and had the decency to look somewhat regretful, or maybe ashamed. Or maybe it was just the drugs, and he wasn’t thinking much of anything. He shrugged and headedin the direction of the restrooms.
Conversation resumed around the table, and Finn rubbed his temples. The headache was getting worse, not better, and he just wanted to close his eyes against the light and the pain. He pushed his beer farther away toward the center of the table, finding the yeasty smell nauseating, and wondered how long he had to stay at the pub before Rocky either dismissedhim or he could slink away.
Except leaving meant seeing Mitch, meant being in close quarters with him in that damned Range Rover as they headed out toward the mountains.Jesus.The whole idea of being with Mitch had Finn on edge. There’d been a sort of reprieve since the incident outside Rocky’s at the barbecue the day before.
Mitch and Finn had driven home after the drive-by shooting. Theyboth were in a state of shock—at least Finn assumed Mitch was rattled by the whole thing because he was totally focused on the road the entire drive, and they hardly exchanged two words. The next morning Rocky called just as Mitch knocked on the front door. Finn spoke with Rocky for the entire trip back into the city. Once they arrived at CMC, Finn jumped from the car, and Mitch disappeared to dosome errands. Now Finn was sitting at the pub, waiting for Mitch’s return.
Funny how part of him was eager to see Mitch again, the part of him that was desperately attracted to him. Mitch pushed all his buttons in the best ways. Actually that wasn’t entirely true. Having his buttons pressed wasn’t something Finn could have. He couldn’t afford to have even a hint of his attraction to Mitch getout. Rocky would kill him. Finn wasn’t entirely sure who the “him” was. Would Rocky be pissed off at Finn or angry with Mitch, or disgusted with both of them? Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth finding out.
The beer was still cold as Finn swallowed a large mouthful, immediately regretting it. He held the bottle to his temple, then moved it across his forehead, enjoying the chill against his skin.
“I think you’re meant to drink that, not use it to give yourself a facial.”
Finn jumped as Mitch slid into the empty seat beside him. His blood pressure shot up, and he sucked in a breath.
Mitch leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “Are you okay?”
Finn nodded, his tongue thick in his mouth.
Mitch’s eyes were full of concern.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a long day, that’s all.”
