17. Kieran
Chapter 17
Kieran
F rankly, I’m pissed. Cormac called at the most inconvenient time.
I jog to my Audi around the block. It wasn’t on my mind to stop at Dolce Amore . But I’ve been feeling guilty about being gone while Aoife was sick, and I figured I’d grab her favorite dessert to tell her I’ll be taking her on the yacht this weekend.
Running into Summer, literally, was an accident. Although I can’t say a bad one.
I know I shouldn’t want to be near her or want to learn about the mysterious Summer Smith.
I’ve made it my job to understand people, to know when they’re being open and honest. Summer Smith is hiding something.
She’s beautiful, though. I’m not sure what to call the outfit she had on, looked sort of like an adult onesie with wide legs. The denim blue washed over her olive skin, and I couldn’t help but be drawn to the three cream-colored buttons decorating the V-neckline. Pretty sure they weren’t functional, but, hell, they drew my attention either way. Add having to watch her eat a cannoli—that’s punishment.
When I reach my car, I jump in, ignoring a phone call to my Bluetooth from Marco. The nerve that man has to call me so often, or ever for that matter.
I stew the five minutes to O’Brien’s over the fact Riku has wandered into the pub demanding to see the facilities for his men fighting tomorrow night. When I arrive, I park right in the front, then get out, buttoning my sport coat.
Inside, Riku sits at my bar, gesturing for Lizzy to pour him another glass of something while six of his henchmen surround him. The too-tight leather jacket wrapped around his torso limits the fluidity of his movements—he almost seems robotic.
I slow my pace into the pub and leisurely stroll over, glancing at Finn, Callum, and Cormac standing guard to the hallway. It’s early in the afternoon and they are the only ones here. Well, besides Lizzy behind the bar, who’s not dressed in her uniform yet. She must have come in early for inventory and is now stuck serving the newest leader of the Yakuza.
Riku has his back to me, unfazed by my entrance. All six of his men, however, turn toward me, hands in front of them.
I grit my teeth. “Riku.”
He lifts his head from where he’s focused on his glass but doesn’t appease me by turning around. Lizzy’s eyes flick to mine, her expression tight and brows furrowed. She attempts to step away from her position in front of Riku, but he abruptly stands and snatches her wrist. A shocked gasp leaves her mouth, and I see red.
Clenching my fists, I tsk but let out a chuckle. “Hands off, Riku.”
He looks over his shoulder at me. A black hoop nose ring hangs from his left nostril, and the tattoo above his cheekbone stretches as he offers me a wide grin. He makes a show of slowly releasing her, then swivels around on the stool to face me.
“Just having a bit of fun, Kieran.”
I remain planted in my spot.
“Not at the expense of me family ye’re not.” I huff out a breath while he raises his eyebrows.
“She”—he points to Lizzy—“is your family?”
I don’t need to tell him who my family is by blood. It doesn’t matter. “Anyone who works for me, in me pubs, is family.”
Riku smirks and untangles his arms crossed in front of his chest to lift both hands in surrender. “All right. All right.”
I pull at a loose thread on my sport coat. “What can the Irish do for ye, Riku?”
“Ah, such hospitality these days. My sources didn’t share how … welcoming you are.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Callum rolls his shoulders.
Tilting my head to the side, I ask again, “What is it ye want?”
“To see where my men will be fighting. And request that Oscar not be paired with any of them.”
I bristle. “I don’t select the line up. Joe does.”
No one wants to fight Oscar, trust me. I have, and I lose each time.
“Let me rephrase that. Oscar isn’t to be paired with my men. We have money riding on tomorrow.”
I shake my head. “Riku, I’m afraid ye’re mistaken. I don’t answer to ya.”
He inhales a long breath and makes to stand, leather pants rubbing as he slides off the seat. “I hear you have a daughter, Mr. O’Donnell.”
I stiffen. “Don’t.”
I’ll fillet those tattoos right off his face and shove them down his throat if he thinks for a second he can touch my daughter.
“It’d be a shame if something happened to her and that nanny of yours.”
Cormac reaches into his waistband, and Riku’s guards jump in response.
“Are ye threatening me blood?” Kill him. Kill him now . My body hums, and I clench my jaw, willing myself still.
He scoffs. “I would never. Think of it as an incentive to heed my request.”
I shake my head in disbelief. Yuki would never threaten me or my family. He’d never start a war over this. He was smart enough to know it wasn’t worth it. Or, at least, I always thought he didn’t have the numbers to pull it off. But the Yakuza has tripled in size, as confirmed by my sources in New York and by my men on the ground here in Boston.
My heart sinks. I don’t have the manpower to fight the Yakuza. Nor would I ever risk my daughter, so the best bet is to agree. “Aye. We’ll put the word in with Joe.”
Callum and Finn both move to the side as I walk past the booths toward the back. They study my movements, almost as if they’re waiting for me to do something, to prove that I didn’t just back down.
“Are ye ready for that tour now?”
Riku smiles, like he’s won. Like he’s bent me into compliance. I’ll let him think that. I’ll give him this win. But I’ll be damned if he thinks he’s going to command the Irish Mob.
Over me dead body.
* * *
Aoife is waiting for me outside my office door when I return home. I’ve missed dinner, but she’s there with her favorite book, smiling up at me.
It’s that smile that lifts the numbness settled over me.
“Hi, Daddy!”
“Hey, little love.” I open the door to my office, and Aoife darts in, running around to my desk chair. She spins it a few times, while I pull open my coat and toss it on the evergreen couch.
“Aoife? Aoife are you in here?” Allie flies around the corner of the hallway, stopping at my office door. “Oh! Mr. O’Donnell, I wasn’t expecting you home this early. I was just about to get Aoife ready for bed.”
“But I’m not tired,” Aoife whines.
Allie glances at me, and I meet her hesitant smile.
“Aye, but are ye hungry?” I pull out the clear plastic container with the cannoli from Dolce Amore , and smile thinking of Summer. At the frazzled look on her face when I paid for the food, and the fact she shared a tidbit of information about how the cannoli is one of her favorites.
Knowledge about Summer is addicting, and I want more.
“I can have that?!” Aoife squeals as she runs over to me, reaching for the dessert.
“Aye.” I hand her the cannoli and watch as she scurries to the couch to enjoy it. Eyes wide, she lifts the cream filled pastry to her mouth with a smile on her face. It’s so enthusiastic, I can’t help but pull out my phone and snap a photo.
Her eyelids are squeezed shut, and her cheeks are puffed out to the side with the oversized bite she shoved in. But it’s the closed-mouth grin spanning ear to ear that prompts me to send the photo.
Admittedly, I don’t think. At this moment, I want to share my daughter’s blissful enjoyment of her cannoli with none other than Summer Smith. Perhaps it’s because she’s her teacher, or that she loves this particular dessert. Maybe its’s because I know she’d appreciate the adorable picture.
Either way, I have her number. It feels natural to share the photo.
I swallow the lump in my throat when I realize I want Summer to get a glimpse into our lives, more than she already does. Maybe show her the fun moments she may not believe exist.
Immediately, I squash the idea, mentally laughing at myself for imagining I could share a single sliver of my life with her. Embarrassed, I tuck my phone back away and find Allie staring at me. I reach for something, anything to keep me from showing my vulnerable side.
“How about the yacht tomorrow?” I ask Aoife as she finishes her dessert.
“Really?” She squeals again.
“Aye. Decided to take the weekend off.”
Allie raises her eyebrows, her surprise mutating into a smile in my direction.
After the tour with Riku, I had Joe take me off the list for tomorrow night. I don’t want to fight. Not tomorrow night. I hate that I gave in to his demands, and I don’t want to see these thrown fights.
It can’t be a permanent thing, but this one weekend—it’s mine.
Aoife jumps up and rushes toward me, arms wide and ready to wrap around my legs. But I duck down, scoop her up into my arms, and chase those sweet giggles with more tickles.
“When can we leave? Can I bring Mr. Cuddles?” she asks through her out-of-breath laughs.
“Tomorrow morning. I’ll have Allie get ye packed to stay the night on the boat with me. How does that sound?”
Aoife skips in circles around my office. “That sounds great!”
“But,” I say. “That means ye need to head to bed and get some rest.”
“Okay.” She moves her circle runs to around Allie. It wasn’t the best idea to feed her sugar right before bed, but I shrug it off.
“Come on, Aoife. Let’s head up for a shower,” Allie holds out her hand, and for a moment the picture morphs. There stands Summer, her hand outstretched as she reaches for Aoife to help her up to bed, and I shake my head. What is wrong with me? Summer has too much life ahead of her for me to even consider wanting her.
Even so, something drives me to know. To want. To seek.
I dip my hand into my pocket, caressing the slick outer glass of my phone as Aoife takes Allie’s hand and they leave the room.
I sigh, pulling it out, then flip it over in my hand.
Opening the message thread, I stare at the photo of Aoife I sent to Summer and the blank space underneath it.
No response.
I’m not sure why, but I cling to the phone. Almost as if willing her to message me back.
When she doesn’t, I set it down. Five minutes later I pick it back up, too distracted to work. There’s still no message, so I stalk to the bar cart I keep in my office and pour a generous glass of whiskey. Gripping the glass, I toss it back, consumed with frustration.
I shouldn’t fixate on Summer. On something I can never have. But I move back to my phone to see if she responded anyway.
She didn’t.