Chapter 36 Declan
Declan
Istared up at the flashing neon sign as thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. The L and A had burned out, so the sign read 'Blue --goon Hostel'. Dear Lord.
My ears rang from the loud music and feminine shrieks coming from the pool area behind the hostel. I plucked at my shirt ineffectually, not enjoying the intense humidity. The cool, wet climate of Ireland suited me much better.
Why would anyone choose to stay in a god-awful place like this? It beggared belief.
I knew for a fact Verity always had a credit card available for whatever she needed, so she could easily have afforded a decent hotel. One with air conditioning and a minibar.
But the girl was stubborn to a fault, and she appeared to have developed a strong desire to 'go it alone'. What she failed to appreciate was how much fucking danger she was in right now.
It had taken Milo five days to track our runaway princess down. Five sleepless days and nights.
The guy had a few screws loose, but he was good at what he did. He gave me the creeps with his dead-eye stares and weird monologues on random topics, but I could respect his tech skills.
Thea had wanted to send Dario to drag Verity back home, but I'd offered to fly out instead, making some bullshit excuse about a business meeting in Rome. Not exactly a selfless act, but I couldn't admit that to her or myself.
Ronan and Conal both insisted on joining me, but since it was their fault Verity had run away, my answer had been no. Instead, I'd brought Ash and Connor along for the ride, as they spoke better Italian than me.
I figured the three of us would have no problem finding Verity and hauling her ass onto the plane for a trip across the Atlantic. This time, I planned to deliver her straight into the loving arms of her sister. Once she was on American soil, she became Thea's problem, not mine.
"If you lose my sister again, I will slice your balls off with a rusty penknife!" Thea's parting shot still rang in my ears, along with her other colorful threats. I had to give it to her: the woman was wonderfully creative when describing how she'd maim me if I failed in my mission.
For anyone else, insulting the head of the Irish mafia would be a death sentence. But as always, Thea got away with it. Mostly because I genuinely liked her. Still, a bit of respect wouldn't go amiss.
As I hovered on the hostel's steps, questioning my life choices, three girls in bikinis and bare feet stumbled out of the shabby entrance, giggling and waving a bottle of cheap wine around.
I watched with distaste as one of them promptly threw up all over an aloe plant.
She didn't seem at all bothered as she wiped her mouth, grabbed the bottle, and gulped more wine down.
"You staying here?" slurred her marginally less drunk friend, eying my crisp white shirt, custom-tailored pants, and Patek Philippe Nautilus. Several feet away, Ash and Connor hovered under the shadow of an enormous olive tree, watching the scene. I scowled when I heard Ash snort with laughter.
"Do I look like I belong in a shit hole like this?" It was a rhetorical question, but the girl frowned and scanned me from head to toe.
When she hiccupped and stumbled in my direction, mouth gaping open to say something almost certainly inane, I swerved out of her way and stepped into the hostel's lobby.
The sooner I found Verity, the better. This place made my skin crawl.
No way had it passed a health inspection.
It was probably infested with roaches and flesh-eating bacteria.
Not to mention virulent, antibiotic-resistant STIs.
"I'm looking for this girl." The long-haired waste of oxygen sitting behind the reception desk barely looked up. From the stench of weed that clung to his dirty blue tee, this idiot wasn't on a management pathway. Or any pathway.
"Girl?" He reluctantly pushed his phone to one side and glanced at the photo of Verity on my screen.
"She's staying here," I gritted out before he could deny knowing her.
His eyes narrowed. "How do you know she's staying here? We take data protection very seriously at the Blue Lagoon Hostel."
I stared back at him, wondering if this was a wind-up. Attempting to look more intimidating, he puffed his chest out and sat up a little straighter, but a small flicker of disquiet registered in his eyes. The numbing effect of the weed must be wearing off.
"I know she's staying here, so once again, where is she?" My fingers tapped on the scuffed counter while the idiot stared up at me. A phone pinged, and we both looked down to see he had a Tinder match. Chiara, 19.
"I think she's…out." His throat bobbed nervously. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Out where?" I kept my voice nice and calm, but the more he deflected, the more I wanted to haul him over the counter and teach him a lesson he wouldn't forget.
"Work, I think." His gaze slid down to his phone where the lovely Chiara awaited. Honestly, I was doing her a favor. A date with this clown would be a waste of her time. Of any woman's time.
"You think?" My jaw ticked in irritation. I grabbed his phone, ignoring his squeak of protest.
"OK! So she's working at the Horizon Club on San Berillo! Last night she got back around 4 AM! Please, give me my phone back!"
"See? That wasn't so difficult." I squeezed his scuffed iPhone in my fist, enjoying the satisfying crunch of glass breaking under pressure.
"Here you go." He took his ruined phone without a murmur as sweat trickled down his chalky white face.
"I'll be sure to give this place a five-star rating on Google," I told him as I turned to leave.
It was time to visit the Horizon Club. Verity might want her independence, but I'd promised Thea I would send her back to the States.
She could scream and call me every name under the sun, but it wouldn't make one iota of difference. The sooner Verity was out of my hair, the better.