Cillian ignored her. Men like him didn’t respect boundaries because they were dumber than a sack of hammers. Instead of heeding the mood in the room, he strolled up to the bar, all swagger, with Aoife trailing behind him. She smiled at Dee, preparing herself to enjoy the show.
Rotten awful people.
“Now, now, Dee.” Cillian spread his hands like he was a benevolent king. “Don’t be like that. I just came to congratulate you on how successful Ballybeg will be. After all, the council finally came to their senses, didn’t they?”
The pub fell deathly quiet.
Even the old boys who usually pretended to mind their own business were staring openly; their pints paused midair. I gripped the edge of my barstool to keep myself seated, every instinct in me screaming to intervene. But I knew Dee didn’t need me to get arrested for rearranging hershiteex’s face.
Saoirse got in front of Cillian. “Get the feck out. We don’t serve wankers like you.”
“I’m gonna own this place, bitch,” he snarled.
Okay, now, that wasn’t cool.
“Call her a name again, and I’ll test how far my billions stretch, arsehole—beginning with bailingmyself out of jail after I’ve fucked you up,” I said quietly, not even looking at Cillian.
Now, some men were born smart, and some were not.
Cillian fell in the latter category because he leered at Dee, “Standing between progress again, Dee, and now you’ve got that Yank on it with you? God, you’re pathetic.”
Okay, now….
Dee stepped out from behind the bar and put a restraining hand on my shoulder.
“Hold your tongue, lad, or you’ll lose it.” This came from Liam Murphy, who sat next to me.
“Yeah, control your feckin’ tongue or like Liam said, you’ll lose it,” Liam Ryan added. He was seated on Liam’s other side.
“Don’t make us hurt you, lad,” Seamus threatened. He sat on the other side of Liam Ryan.
“Old man?—”
“Dee, honest to God, you gotta let me knee thisarseholein the nuts,” I cut him off, my tone pleasant like I was fixin’ to offer him a slice of pecan pie. Not that they made pecan pie in Ballybeg.
Aoife stepped forward. “Dee, we’re only here to talk.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Mrs. Nolan shouted from across the room.
“Yeah, she doesn’t,” Mr. Nolan cried out in support of his wife and Dee.
“It’s the farm, Dee, you know that,” Aoife continued like the Nolans hadn’t spoken.
Dee kept her hand on my shoulder, holding me thefeckback.
Dee smiled widely. “Aoife, luv, you can take your offer and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”
Cillian’s grin faltered, but only for a second. He shook his head, chuckling like she was some stubborn child throwing a tantrum. “Ah, Dee. Always so fiery. But you’ll come around. You don’t have a choice.”
I couldn’t stop the low growl that escaped my throat, but Dee caught it. She turned her head slightly, her gaze locking on mine, and without a word, she gave me a look that said, “Let me handle this.”
So, I did.
Barely.
She took a step closer to the prick, her voice rising. “I willneversell to you. Do you hear me?Never.”
But Cillian wasn’t done. He lowered his voice, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re in over your head, Dee. Do you think you can fight this forever? You can’t even afford the taxes on your land. They’re due soon. So, unless you’ve got a pot of gold hidden somewhere, I’d say you’re running out of time.”
