Chapter Twenty-Two
Shai
Rory gets back an hour before I get off. He sits in a booth in the corner, eyes following my every move.
It should piss me off.
It should be uncomfortable.
It’s not normal the way he watches me, the way he’ll sit here for hours while I’m working, but who the fuck wants normal?
I like it, like his eyes on me. Like how it makes me feel.
Like being craved by him. It’s like he’s obsessed with me, and the fact that it doesn’t make me walk away says just as much about me as it does about him.
I finish my shift, and he walks with me to the bathroom. I grin when I think about the guy he left there earlier to make sure no one interrupted when he got me off. People do what Rory says. They’re afraid of him, and again, that does something to me, but not in the way it should.
I clean up and change, neither of us saying anything, him just watching me. We get to the car, and he points to the glove box. “Your gun is in there.”
“Thanks.” I pull it out, smile at the way it feels in my hand.
“Where am I going?”
I give Rory the address.
“You said he has a bodyguard. Think we should expect more people than just the two of them there?”
Shit. I didn’t even think about that. I’ve never done something like this before.
What if I fuck it up? What if Rory gets hurt because of me?
“I don’t think so…” The conversation with Ollie comes back to me, when he talked about reeling Rory in and not letting him do anything to get himself hurt. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“Why the fuck not? He’s taking advantage of you. He’s a piece of shit who needs to learn he can’t fuck with something that’s mine.”
My pulse nearly dies, then kicks back to life again, too hard, too fast. Something that’s his? He’s said that before, but it feels different in this moment.
“I know, but should we talk to Tiernan and Cillian about it? Or like…watch him first?”
He tosses a glance my way. “I’ll take care of you. I won’t let you get hurt.”
“I’m not worried about me. I can take care of myself.” But he’s the first person who has ever wanted to take care of me, the first person who has vowed to. The only one who would be doing this for me.
“I can bring you home first. I’ll go deal with it and then come back and—”
“No. Fuck no. You’re not doing this shit without me, Ror.” If he insists on taking care of me, I’m going to take care of him too. “I won’t let anything happen to you either.”
He grins in the dark car. “Aren’t you fucking sweet.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I. It’s cute.” When I don’t respond, he adds, “It’ll be fun. We’ll be okay.”
I trust him. Strangely, I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life. Rory knows what he’s doing. He won’t get hurt. It’ll be just like the night outside the bar, the two of us together. “You can’t kill him. We just need to scare him, let him know he can’t dick us around.”
“If he dies or not is up to him,” Rory answers.
“I’m serious. Don’t kill him. I can’t…I can’t let you do that for me.”
He’s silent for a moment, then gives me a small nod, and I breathe out a sigh of relief.
My stomach is in knots the rest of the drive, but there’s excitement too. The idea of the power this will bring me, protecting my mom, letting Bruce know he can’t fuck with us…doing it with Rory. Him wanting to do it for me.
He pulls off to the side of the road, a little ways from the house. “You sure you got this? If you’re not sure, you can wait here. I can’t…you need to be safe.”
He can’t what? “I’m good, Ror. We’re doing this together.”
“Okay…we’ll sneak down to the house on foot, scope things out, get inside and take care of business. You stay close to me, right on my fucking ass the whole time. I’m not kidding about that. Let me do the talking.”
I nod, surprised I’m not arguing, but I trust Rory to take the lead on this. I’ll do what he says.
He grabs me by the collar, pulls me close and gives me a hard, claiming kiss. “Let’s fucking go.”
My heart takes off like his words just lowered the white flag and it’s in a race.
It’s dark out, cold as shit as we walk down the street toward Bruce’s place.
Honestly, it’s not much nicer than our trailer.
I have no clue what he does with all his money, but it definitely doesn’t go toward keeping his house in order.
It’s not a trailer, but a small, brick, ranch-style home. One of the windows is covered with cardboard, making me wonder what’s going on in there. The lights are off, only one car in the driveway.
“Looks like he’s all tucked into bed.” Rory practically bounces, his body moving like there’s too much going on inside him and he can’t stay still. It’s…cute. We’re in a scary situation, but it’s still cute.
“Works for us,” I reply.
He up-nods toward the house. “Camera,” Rory says but doesn’t seem too worried about it.
On the porch, he pulls something out of his hoodie pocket and begins picking the lock.
“Well, at least now I know how you get into my place,” I tell him, and he gives me the widest, giddiest smile that makes my heart beat even faster.
“I like to watch you sleep.”
“That’s…” Weird? Wrong? “Hot,” I reply, and he chuckles.
It takes him no time at all to get us inside. Rory turns on the phone flashlight, so I do the same. The house is a fucking pigsty, dirty plates on end tables, beer bottles everywhere, two bongs, coke on the coffee table.
“Motherfucker better not be selling around here,” Rory says.
Because of course that would be where his mind goes.
Blood rushes through my ears with each step we take. We each have our gun in hand, Rory walking quietly down the hallway, looking in each room. They’re all empty of people but full of shit. He points toward the last door.
I nod. Rory turns the light off, slipping his phone in his pocket, and I do the same, then follow him to the room. He rushes in, gun in front of him, and flicks on the light.
Bruce is in bed, his bodyguard who is clearly not just his bodyguard beside him. They jerk up, the bodyguard going for the gun on the nightstand, but Rory says, “Nope. I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’ll shoot a hole in your fucking hand and then kill you slowly. Hands up.”
“Fuck you,” Bruce says to him—or maybe to me—but they both do as Rory says.
“Get that for me, will you, pet.”
I grab the gun from the nightstand, make sure the safety is on, then shove it into my hoodie pocket.
“Who the fuck are you?” Bruce spits out.
“Oh, this is fun. You don’t know. I love it when they don’t know.” Rory’s voice has kicked up a notch, like again, he’s trying to hold in too much energy. “Rory Fitzpatrick, nice to meet you. I’d shake, but you know, I’m holding a gun on you.”
I bite back a laugh.
“This is a big mistake. Fucking huge,” the bodyguard says.
“You know, I don’t think it is. My name might not ring any bells, but Tiernan O’Shea probably does, or Rian O’Shea.”
Recognition shows on their faces, shock on Bruce’s, his jaw clenching.
“Yeah, I thought you’d know them. I’m with them, and he’s mine.” He points to me. “You know who he is, right? He rents a trailer from you. You’ve threatened him, taken advantage of him, and honestly, Bruce, that pisses me off. You probably don’t know this about us, but we take care of what’s ours.”
Ours, ours, ours.
I like Rory claiming me, more and more each time he does it. I see now why Ollie likes it from Cillian.
“Fuck him, and fuck that bitch of a mother of his. Stupid whore tried to blow me instead of paying me, and you’re here defending them?”
“Don’t fucking talk about my mom like that.”
“Bruce, Bruce, Bruce. You’ve made my boy angry, and I don’t like it when he’s angry. You’re really not doing yourself any favors.” His boy…that’s new. Damned if it doesn’t make my chest swell, make it feel bigger than it ever has. Rory moves closer to the bed. “Stand up. Both of you.”
Bruce and his guy look at each other, back to Rory, then do what he says. Is there anyone who doesn’t listen to them? And fuck, do I crave that.
They’re both naked, soft cocks hanging between their legs, arms still in the air.
“Unfortunately, Shai is nicer than me. I promised him I wouldn’t kill you…unless I have to.”
I didn’t say unless he had to, but I don’t argue.
“I assume you know not to fuck with me?” Rory asks. “Because if you do, I’ll bring down your whole fucking world…slowly…painfully…and you’ll be begging me to end it.”
“We don’t have issues with you,” Bruce says.
“But again, he’s mine, so if you fuck with him, you’re fucking with me.
This is the way it’s going to go from now on: They’ll pay rent on time every month.
If there’s an issue, you come to me. Any correspondence goes through me—I don’t care if it’s a fucking plumbing issue.
You’re going to get your rent, and you’re not going to raise it, harass them, and you’re also going to fix whatever the fuck I decide needs to be fixed.
It’s a piece of shit, but I’m noticing that’s a pattern with you.
” Rory looks around, and God, he’s a dick and I love it.
“We all win in this situation. Kat and Shai can stay in that house as long as they want. You won’t evict them, you won’t so much as look at them wrong, do you understand? ”
Bruce’s mouth clenches, jaw tight, hands fisted in the air, but he grits out, “I understand.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Can you repeat that louder?”
“I understand,” Bruce says, and Rory’s attention turns to the bodyguard.
“I understand,” he says.
“Good. I’m glad we get each other. Whew.
I worried that would be difficult, but it looks like we all get along really well.
I didn’t even have to threaten you too much…
like tell you what would happen if you go behind my back, if Shai or Kat get hurt, if you go to the cops or anything like that. ” Rory turns to me. “See? Easy peasy.”
Easy fucking peasy? I can’t help but laugh. God, he’s so fucking great.