Chapter 9
CHAPTER
NINE
EAMON
Slowly, she’s beginning to realize that she’s a fish out of water. The starry-eyed girl looks more surprised than anything. Almost muttering to herself.
The staff carries on with their nightly tasks. The girls restock the liquor shelves, Connor empties the ice bins, and Cindel struggles to get through the most mundane of tasks. It looks as if she’s been wiping down the same table for the past five minutes.
Since Cassie’s gone, I tally the cash drawer. I’ve depended on her to manage things in my absence. I’ve never been too fond of The Black Sheep, however Cindel working here has encouraged me to come around more.
She stumbles slightly as her shoe catches a stool. I fight the urge to smirk. She’s too busy watching me out of her peripheral, as opposed to watching where she’s going.
She’s a sweet kid. I know I shouldn’t be here.
Making myself known to her. Doing any of this, but I feel responsible.
Like her well-being was handed over to me long ago.
Once her boyfriend was out of the picture, I arranged for her to take this job.
It’s actually thanks to him that I found her at all.
Life sure has a sick sense of humor. Exchanging wants for needs. Loss paired with ill-begotten gains.
I have bled, poured my everything into this life, only to watch the foundation slowly begin to crumble.
I’ll be damned if I let anything else I care about be eradicated.
Just between the Bay Boxing Club and The Black Sheep, I have kept myself busy over the past couple years.
When my dad went back to Ireland to bury my mother, I was left to clean up in his wake. Handle everything alone…
My sister isn’t very reliable when it comes to business. Instead, I have a few entrusted men to help. Kilkenny Castle wasn’t built overnight, but over generations. Ultimately, it’s my turn to make things better. It’s no easy task, but I push myself each day to learn more, be more.
I do it because I can’t accept the past. We have all been deceived. This way of life has rules. A code to follow. It was broken. When I finally unravel this web of lies, someone is going to join the rest of the massholes buried beside the interstate.
As despicable as some people may appear, I don’t believe everyone is guilty.
Cindel was closer to a delicate piece of china vs.
the city’s Teflon skin. I know she’s faced unspeakable things.
Still suffering from the loss of her brother, even years later.
I understand better than most, but if she doesn’t play along, this game, this life…
will consume her. I hope she can make it out of this unscathed.
Then, I might be able to get some fucking sleep at night.
Getting close to her is the first phase.
Learn everything she knows. It feels so wrong, but I’ve been chasing ghosts for way too long.
If the rest of my family had their say, they would have already burnt this city to the ground, but I owe it to someone important…
to take a different road. If you told me just a few years ago that I would be here today with this empty, cavernous feeling inside…
I would have laughed in your face! Probably bash your teeth in too for saying something so impudent.
But now…? Right now, I would trade my very soul, just to be at peace.
How could anyone anticipate their future?
Especially when you couldn’t ever fathom yourself there in the first place.
When you have everything in life handed to you on a silver platter, you feel invincible.
I was a damn fool. No one is immortal. I can’t get back what’s gone, but I refuse to allow anything to happen to the nescient.
Acceptance doesn’t create empires, but integrity helps pave the way.
My phone vibrates and I see a new message.
Connor: Cassie has passed, sir.
God damnit. I don’t have time to manage my own shit, let alone handle the affairs of this bar.
Cassie was a good one, never asked too many questions, and did a damn good job of keeping this place in tip top shape.
She was on borrowed time. Lung cancer. That woman was a force.
When she found out, she insisted that I keep it to myself.
Like a Viking earning their way into Valhalla on the battlefield.
She didn’t want to lay down and accept her fate, but stand tall, work, and live her life as normal as possible.
I’m sure it didn’t help that she was constantly having to bail her adult son out of trouble.
Hopefully the loss can rattle his cage just enough to set him on the straight and narrow.
Not that I have ever had the freedom to choose, but I knew all too well how the deceased can call from their grave for you to do better.
I slide the device back into the inner pocket of my jacket.
A decision will need to be made soon. Cindel has moved onto wiping down another table.
With her back to me, I decide at that moment to walk over to her.
She appears startled when I reach her and I could have sworn she muttered, “Yes, you are a loser.” I ignore it.
“Can we talk? I ask and I can’t help but notice how her body is more rigid as I stand closer to her. She’s still cleaning the same spot as we speak.
“Oh… Sure!” She adjusts her chestnut hair to cover the earbud. “What’s up?” Her smile is sweet but forced.
“You did great tonight.” I already made up my mind; I just have to inform her. “I’d like to make you a manager.”
Suddenly, she stops buffing the countertop. “Excuse me?”
I sit on the bar stool, so I’m eye level with her. The color of her eyes is a flawless match.
“I can’t be a manager. Is Cassie going to be out for a while? Plus… Jada and Brittany have both worked here longer than me.”
I hold up my hand before she can continue. “You are capable. I wouldn’t have chosen you, otherwise.”
She searches my face, probably thinking this is some kind of trick. I’m drowning in those hauntingly familiar oceans. I revert my gaze, unable to tolerate the blue pools any longer and check my phone. Shit, I need to get back.
“Do you accept?”
Cindel’s mouth opens and closes a few times, validating the nickname I’ve given her. So fucking adorable. My heart splinters.
She surveys the room, then comes back to me. “I guess…as long as Cassie comes back soon.”
I place my hand on hers and squeeze gently. Poor thing looks like a deer in its last moments before the headlights reached them.
“I’ll let the rest of the staff know. You’ll be acting as manager beginning the next shift. Sorry, but I have to run. I have a gathering to attend.” I turn on my heel, leaving Cindel to recover from the shell shock. I should have stayed and talked with her, but I have my crew waiting for me.
I salute Connor as I stride toward the red, wooden door.
Dax leans against the brick wall, waiting for me. Garron is already back at the boxing club, readying for our arrival.
Garron has been an essential part of the family since we were boys. His dad worked for my parents, and so it’s expected that the next generation would roll right into the position effortlessly.
Dax, on the other hand, was somewhat newer to the crew.
The last guy, Finnegan, had an unfortunate accident.
He may have taken a midnight dance with a train after he had the bollox to póg my little sister.
Another reason why I didn’t want her around any of this.
I like Dax better, anyhow. Sometimes reserved, he still has my trust. He earned that shit.
Dax gets into the passenger seat while I start the car.
I preferred the blue version of the Audi R8, but the white one went just as fast. Maybe after a few more big events, the house will have enough to buy another blue one.
My previous R8 had an unfortunate accident when the front end was smashed last Spring.
Maybe after a few more big events, the house will have enough to buy another one in my preferred color.
We take off in the direction of Kilby Street, toward the Bay Boxing Club. I requested the crew stick around for a little after party, once the event was through. I just hope they didn’t have too much fun while I was away handling the matter at the bar.
I pull up shortly after one in the morning.
Although the place is dark from the outside, I know my men were bustling within the steel walls.
Dax at my side, we make our way to the side alley door.
It swings open without even having to announce our presence.
There's a camera on every corner of this building. They already knew I was here.
The familiar sound of a grown man begging fills the space as I pass hung bags and matted walls.
Then we weave through nearly a hundred arena chairs.
My crew vacated the ring once I entered the building, now, the only thing at its center is a restrained, middle-aged man.
The spotlight accentuates his greasy thin hair, while the dark spots on his skin tell me he’s spent a great deal of time on the streets.
His lip is split. One eye purple with the onset of swelling causing the lid to shut, in addition, three of his fingers face an unnatural direction.
Garron and the boys roughed him up just enough to loosen his tongue, but they saved the grand finale for me.
“Alex! Sorry for my tardiness. I see my boys got you the best seat in the house while you waited.”
The weak man starts cursing despite his current predicament. Once the sharp words leave his mouth, he apologizes a moment later, as if realizing it will only make things worse. He follows up with a plea. How very predictable. I tsk.
“I need you to take a deep breath, Alex, because I’m going to ask you something and if you lie to me, I’m going to remove an ear.”