Chapter 2 Sean
I was ready to get out on the town tonight.
It had been a long, busy week. We were the biggest name in the Irish Mafia when it came to racketeering, illegal gambling, loan sharking, extortion, labor union corruption, business infiltration, money laundering, fraud, theft, smuggling, weapons trafficking, assault, and arson.
It was a very comprehensive list, meaning we were always busy and watching our asses.
As with any business, legal or not, you had competition and enemies.
Law enforcement officers were dying to find ways to put us all in prison or outright kill us.
That was in addition to the major mob organizations that competed with each other.
There were other Irish Mafia families to watch out for, along with the Italians, the Sicilian Cosa Nostra, the Japanese Yakuza, the Chinese Triad, and, most recently, the Russian Bratva. Things often got bloody.
However, tonight, I wasn’t worrying about them.
I needed to relax, and so did Cormac. We knew better than to ask Patrick to go with us.
If he wasn’t working, he was at Maeve’s side.
We might tease him a bit, but we knew he would never leave her to go out drinking with us.
And he sure the hell wouldn’t go looking for whores.
What he had at home satisfied him more than any of those types of women could.
We were happy for him, but we still had needs.
Even though we were armed and capable of taking care of ourselves, we would have a few of our men with us.
Becoming complacent was what got you killed.
Since Patrick and Maeve would be home, where there were other men to protect them, we had their guard, Quinn, for the night.
Then there was my guard, Kevin, and Eoin, who was Cormac’s bodyguard.
The spot we chose was a nightclub that had recently opened up in downtown Jacksonville.
It was where we had our offices, or at least that was what you could call it.
We ran all our various business endeavors from a handful of actual brick-and-mortar locations.
We didn’t party much in St. Augustine, where our family had settled.
There, Cormac and I shared an apartment.
Patrick and Maeve had a small house, and our parents had a slightly larger home.
The car stopped, shaking me out of my head. Glancing out the car window, I saw we were outside our destination. Frank drove our car. Quinn was up front with him. In the car behind us were Lewis, Kevin, and Eoin. Lewis was a driver like Frank. They would stay with the vehicles.
Quinn and Frank opened our doors, but only after Kevin and Eoin were outside them, ready to cover us.
We were shielded as best as they could into the club.
The bouncer at the door, who was managing the line, never said a word.
He knew who we were. You didn’t ask us to wait or for identification.
Not if you valued your face. Despite our reputations, we were welcome in places like this.
Our presence significantly increased the establishment’s profits during our time there.
The word would spread that two of the O’Sheeran brothers were in the club, and the bodies would flock here.
Some were eager to catch a glimpse of the notorious Irish mobsters.
Others hoped to meet us and either cut a deal, become friends, or fuck us for the night.
This club had a small roped-off area that they called the VIP area. It was better than nothing. They had a bouncer who manned that section to keep the riffraff out. We didn’t need or want every person in the place breathing down our necks.
As we drew up to the second bouncer, he bowed his head in greeting and stated, “Good evening, gentlemen. Welcome. If there’s anything you need this evening, let us know. Enjoy.”
“We will,” Cormac replied. I gave the bouncer a chin lift.
A waitress immediately walked up to us. She was cute and excited when she saw who we were. I caught her patting her hair and pushing her tits up so more cleavage showed in her low-cut blouse. She was pretty enough. We’d see if one of us took her up on what she offered.
“Hello, my name is Joan. I’ll be your waitress tonight. Please don’t hesitate to let me know what you need. I’m here to serve. If you follow me, I have the perfect table.” The way she said the word “serve”, she should’ve said she was here to service us. Quinn smirked at me.
We walked about ten feet and were directed to sit at an empty table. There was no need to ask for a drink menu. We knew what they would have, so we rattled off our wishes quickly. Our guards had to remain sober, which meant sticking to coffee, water, or soda.
“Damn, not even five minutes here and that’s one on the treat menu,” Quinn remarked.
The treat menu was code for women who offered themselves to us. It was a name our guards made up years ago.
“They always do,” Kevin remarked.
“Don’t get ahead of yourselves. Let them get several on there before they make a selection,” Eoin added.
“Give us a chance to breathe. Tonight, we’re here to relax and have a few drinks,” Cormac told them.
“But if women offer themselves up, surely you won’t say no,” Quinn said disbelievingly.
“We never said that,” I smirked.
It had been several days since I’d gotten my cock wet.
I’ve been busy with work. I was a guy with a high sex drive.
When possible, I had sex nightly. Cormac was the same, and Patrick had been until he met Maeve.
Something told me our oldest brother didn’t go without after marrying.
The heated expression he wore and the way he devoured his wife with his eyes said his sex life was hotter than ever.
Plus, how they were known to disappear during family gatherings told the tale.
Our drinks were delivered in record time, and before Joan was called away, another offer of anything was issued. The music was loud and pounding. The dance floor was packed with bodies. At the same time, the bar area and the tables surrounding it were crowded. Receipts would be good tonight.
Scanning the bar and dance floor to see what there was to see, I half-listened to the conversation around me. Most of it was between our bodyguards. Cormac or I would occasionally add a comment, but that was about it.
As more drinks were consumed, and the crowd hadn’t yet produced someone definite I wanted to get a piece of tonight, I focused on my brother.
“Hey, Cor, what are you getting Mam for Christmas? Or did you get it already?” I asked.
He blinked at my abrupt transition in topics. A few seconds was all it took for him to answer me.
“No, I haven’t bought it yet. What about you? Don’t you have an idea?” he countered.
“Come on, don’t do that. Tell me. I swear, she’s so damn hard to buy for. She never wants anything. Daid always seems to know the perfect gifts to buy her,” I reminded him.
“I know he does. Did you ask Patrick if he’s gotten her anything?” Cormac asked.
I snorted. “You know Pat. He’ll make us sweat. And yes, he did. He won’t tell me what it is. He said it was time for us to grow up and come up with our own damn ideas.”
“Damn him. He probably made Maeve pick it out. He’s clueless like the two of us,” Cor said smugly.
“No, he didn’t. I asked her. She refused to spill what it was, but she did let me know it was Pat’s idea, not hers.” I gave him the news.
“Christmas is just over three weeks away. We’ve got to get on this.” Cor practically whined like a child.
“Why don’t you ask your dad for suggestions if he’s so good at it?” Kevin asked.
“Asking him does us no good. He wants us to put thought into it as well. Daid says the reason Mam loves whatever he gives her is that she knows he put thought into it, that it comes from his heart, and that it is filled with love. You know our daid isn’t a man to express strong emotions or affection unless we’re alone as a family,” I explained.
“Damn it, we’re fucking men. I refuse to let Patrick show us up. Tomorrow, we’re going shopping together. Surely, with our heads put together, we’ll find something Mam will love.” My brother sounded determined.
“Sure, we can do that. Just don’t get up at the ass-crack of dawn. If you wake me up then, I’ll shoot you,” I forewarned him.
“I learned my lesson. I still have the scar from you stabbing me,” he muttered.
“Suck it up. It was barely a flesh wound. And I warned you then, too.”
We were muttering ideas back and forth, not your typical conversation topic on a night out, but it was better than fruitlessly staring into the darkness, trying to see if anyone caught my eye.
We’d been there an hour and a half when the night took a turn. I wasn’t convinced it was for the best. It happened when three women sauntered up to the table. They were dressed in skimpy clothing that left little to the imagination. I wondered how they didn’t freeze when they went outside.
Now, most guys would be happy that women approached them in a bar with a clear intention of seeking sex written all over them.
And in some circumstances, we’d agree with them, but not this time.
We recognized them. The three of them were socialite types who were big on the party scene.
They traveled constantly, blowing their families’ money without putting in a day’s work to earn it.
We’d seen them at various functions. All three made it very clear they wanted us.
Their hope of capturing Patrick was gone.
They’d blatantly thrown themselves at us before, and while they were attractive enough, there was something about them that screamed, “Stay away.”
“Well, our night just got better. We’re so happy to see you guys. It seems like we never get to see you anymore. How about we join you, and we can have a wonderful night together?” Linda suggested.