And then I shut the door behind me.
Only to have my head slammed into the wall.
Twenty-One
Rory
Ifind myself at Slainte, the way most of the single lads do in their down time.
The whiskey is flowing, and the girls put on a good show up on stage, and everything’s the same as it always is.
Only I’m restless as fuck.
“Got anything for me, boss?” I ask Crow.
“Nah, mate,” he answers. “Why don’t ye take the night off.”
I’d much rather be bloodying up my knuckles to take the edge off, but I don’t say so. Niall was quick to warn Crow I could be hot headed, and I don’t need him second guessing me now.
Least of all over a woman.
My eyes land on Conor and something else occurs to me.
“Come with me, lad,” I tell him. “I need your help.”
“Can’t, mate,” he says.
“Since fucking when?” I bark.
He nods across the bar and there’s the same blonde he had eyes for at the fight. Ivy. The one I brought home to torment and test him.
I like the lad, and he deserves to get his kicks too, every now and again.
He hasn’t been with a woman since his last girl went and overdosed on him. So even though I’m in a cunt of a mood, I’ve no intentions of ruining his night as well.
“Go on then,” I tell him. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“Catchya later,” he says.
And then it’s just me, and Crow, who’s giving me the side eye again.
“Thought I gave ye the night off.”
“I need to speak with that Russian fella. Alexei. Can ye give me his number?”
“I could,” Crow says. “But he’s out of the country. So whatever business ye have with him will have to wait.”
I half suspect he’s bullshitting me, because he knows this is about Scarlett. But before I say anything I might regret, I grab a bottle of Jameson from the bar and head towards the VIP lounge.
“I gave you the night off,” Crow calls after me again.
“Ye did,” I answer back. “And I’ve every intention of enjoying it.”
Twenty-Two
Scarlett
Cowards diemany times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once- Shakespeare
