10. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Ronan
T he Barley Stone. It didn’t look any more welcoming at noon than it did at midnight. Usually, I’d avoid the place—which is exactly what the Cassidys would prefer I did, but I couldn’t avoid it all the time. I grabbed the oversized handle, knowing before I pulled it open that as soon as I did, there would be a small army of armed and angry Irishmen behind it.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimmer light before I saw Mickey and Luca Cassidy sitting expectantly at a table nestled in the corner. There were a couple tables occupied by obviously on-edge men staring at me, and three patrons sitting at the bar looked like they already knew to ignore the meeting that was going to go on behind them.
“Gentlemen,” I said, walking to the corner table where the brothers sat. The customers continued to mind their own business, eating the sandwiches in front of them. The bartender gave the men a fresh beer, but his stare followed each of my steps.
“You came alone?” Mickey said, sitting up and resting his elbows on the table. He looked over my shoulder, like he was waiting for my brother to come through the door.
Luca chuckled. “That’s brave of you.”
Mickey waved to the open chairs at the table. “You didn’t think you’d need back-up?”
“Why would I need back-up?” I pulled out the chair, sitting down and fixing my jacket. When I reached into the inside pocket, the men sitting at the other tables all straightened their spines and braced themselves to grab the weapons they had less than inconspicuously concealed. “I’m not scared of you or your friends.” I waved vaguely to the pub, and both Cassidy brothers laughed.
“Let’s cut to the chase, then.” Mickey folded his hands together, resting them on the table. “Why are you here?”
“The car fire,” I said. Mickey narrowed his eyes slightly in confusion, but Luca chuckled under his breath. “Is that supposed to be some sort of message for us to let you run laced drugs through our city? Because I’m not doing that.”
“Man, we don’t give drugs to anyone who doesn’t want them,” Luca said with a grin. Mickey elbowed him in the side.
“What about Brittney?” I asked. “Did she want them?” Luca’s grin fell from his face. I struck a nerve.
“Who?” Mickey cocked his head to the side. He waved to the bartender, flicking his wrist.
I glared. “The stripper who overdosed on your stash less than two weeks ago. Nikki told me you and your guys have been hanging out at The Full Spread.” My heart pounded angrily against my rib cage, and my hands twitched. I resisted the urge to roll them into fists, knowing it was a battle I would start and be unable to finish alone. I was outnumbered.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Mickey said before Luca could get angry, but he seethed. His jaw clenched, and I could see him grinding his teeth, likely to prevent himself from saying something he knew would start a conflict.
“Your brother does.” I nodded to Luca curtly. The bartender walked up behind me, dropping three full glasses of beer on the table. Mickey and Luca each took one, leaving the third untouched. I braced my hands against the table, leaning forward and lowering my voice. “This neighborhood has always been ours. We let you exist here peacefully. Let’s leave it that way. No drugs. No trafficking.”
Luca scoffed, slamming his fist against the table and causing the beer glasses to rattle. “You let us? You don’t let us do anything, you self-entitled Italian fuck.” He spat while he talked, and I watched the drops of spit land on the table. I raised my brow, biting back an angry retort that would result in me looking down the barrel of whatever gun was quickest to point in my direction.
“What exactly is your plan if we don’t listen to you?” Mickey asked semi-rhetorically. He knew nothing good would come of it—for either family. “What do you think you’ll do if people keep asking for what we can give them? Maybe we have more influence here than you Morettis want to believe. I think you just don’t like that.”
I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath. “You and I both know exactly what will happen. Our families have shared this territory for years, and it hasn’t always been peacefully. Don’t create a mess we all have to clean up.” I stood, stepping back from the table. “We won’t just set your car on fire. No drugs. No trafficking. You got it?”
“Go fuck yourself,” Luca said when I turned around. From the corner of my eye, I caught the way Mickey put his arm out, as if to hold him back.
“We’ll see you later, Moretti,” Mickey promised.
I threw the door open, letting the bright afternoon light into the pub and trying not to squint. “You can guarantee it,” I said.
I grumbled when the door slammed behind me. As usual, they were difficult to deal with. I knew they would be; that’s why I didn’t bring Enzo with me when Giaco couldn’t make it. He had the shortest fuse, and it would’ve ended in an explosion—one we would’ve clearly been outnumbered in.
“Are you always late when you have a meeting these days?” Nikki asked when I walked into The Full Spread ten minutes later than planned. I scowled at her.
“Don’t start with me. It has been a hell of a week.” I eyed the bottles behind the bar, tempted to break into one in the middle of the afternoon.
Nikki’s face softened, and she leaned over the counter, resting her hand on my arm. “I heard about the car fire. Is everyone alright?” I nodded, but she didn’t look relieved. She looked scared. “Do you know who did it?”
“The Cassidys deny it was them, but I’m not sure I believe it,” I grumbled, as angry as I was when I left The Barley Stone. “I can’t prove it, though.”
“You never know who you can believe.” She clicked her tongue, and her shoulders relaxed.
“Are they still coming around here?” I asked, and she stiffened again. When she didn’t answer, I pushed. “Don’t make me ask a second time.”
She sighed, rolling her eyes and dropping her shoulders forward. “It’s a business, Ronan. I’m not going to just kick them out.”
“So that’s a yes.” The bottles behind the bar looked more tempting, and I gripped the counter instead, leaning towards her. “There’s only so much we can do to keep you and your girls safe if you continue to let the problem in and serve them drinks and lap dances all night.”
Her face flushed, and she narrowed her eyes. “You may help me keep an eye on the place, but you’re not the boss of me.”
“Something like that.” I’d let her believe she had control over her club. She didn’t, though. She owed us enough money and had enough sunk into the place that we’d take over the lease and the operations and then some. “Don’t do anything stupid. I’ve gotta get going.”
“Always so stubborn. One argument and you leave.” Her dramatic hair toss and grunt combination didn’t convince me to stay, and I stepped back from the counter.
“Be careful, Nikki,” I said, smacking my hand against the old wood before I turned to leave. “I mean it.”
“I’m always careful.”
When I pulled up the street and parked in front of Sugar & Spice, I wasn’t surprised. I had been overly drawn to the place since I realized who owned it, but I was determined to believe it was because I wanted to help her, not because I felt guilty. Sighing, I climbed out of the car, already craving the scent of sweet vanilla before it could be smelled through the front door.
The bell rang when I walked in, and it made my mouth water. I felt instantly calmer within the pink walls, surrounded by the dainty treats. “Welcome to Sugar & Spice—” Nellie stopped when she saw me. “Seriously?” She sounded exasperated.
“I was in the neighborhood.” I put my hands up and casually pointed to the case of cupcakes, relaxing when she threw her head back and laughed. Her smile felt like relief, and when she grabbed the box, my stomach growled. “I guess I had a sweet tooth.”
“So do you want the same kind, or are you going to finally try something different?” She giggled, and I felt warmer. It was like the wall Nellie put up had been let down somewhat. She felt lighter, and her grin was less forced. The passion she felt for what she did radiated from her.
I nodded my head. “Yeah but throw one of these chocolate ones in there too.” I pointed to a row of chocolate cupcakes with light pink frosting and shrugged. Why not? I leaned against the counter, watching her stack cupcakes in the box. “So, how’s everything going with the whole…” I waved around me at the bakery.
“Oh, you mean the whole probably going to lose my bakery in nineteen days if I don’t suddenly figure it out thing? It’s going great.” She rolled her eyes, but when she pursed her lips, I swore she was trying to fight back a smile. “Thank you for asking,” she added, quieter.
“You’re welcome,” I said, and when I smiled, hers broke across her face too. A rush of butterflies flew toward my throat, and I swallowed them back. I didn’t expect her eyes to light up the way she did. Did people ever ask her how she was doing?
Nellie cleared her throat before I could extend another offer to help her, closing the box of cupcakes and setting it on the counter. “You know, you eat a lot of cupcakes for someone who claims he doesn’t like them. Why is that?” She cocked her head to the side suspiciously.
“Maybe they’re not so bad.” I smirked, lifting a single brow. It was satisfying when a light blush tinted her cheeks. “What are all of those?” I asked pointing to the trays of colorful cookies behind her. They definitely weren’t cupcakes.
She giggled, reaching behind her and grabbing one. “They’re macarons. They’re Ava’s favorite.” I took it when she offered it to me, taking a bite of the softer-than-expected green cookie. It was sweet, but not overly so.
“Can I get a dozen of those too?” I winked.
“They weren’t going to be for sale, but since you asked so nicely.” Nellie grabbed another box, putting a row of the cookies in there and closing it. She sat them on the counter, looking up at me while she rang everything into the register. “Hopefully you’ll enjoy them.” She blushed, and my stomach flipped. What was I doing?
“You’re back!” Ava said, coming to the front of the shop. “Oh, am I interrupting something?” she asked when she noticed Nellie’s back stiffen. Ava smirked.
Nellie cleared her throat, shaking her head and returning her attention to the register. “Not at all,” she said. “I was just ringing him up.” Her hands shook when she took my credit card and swiped it.
“You really like cupcakes, don’t you?” Ava needled, stepping up against the counter next to Nellie, whose cheeks got another shade darker. I didn’t miss the suspicious side glance between best friends that communicated more than anyone outside of the pair would understand.
I chuckled. “I suppose I do.”
Nellie slid the box across the counter to me. “Thanks for stopping by,” she said in the same tone she’d probably use with any customer, but the small smile that lit up her face seemed too personal to be something she’d share with everyone. Did I deserve to see that smile? I swallowed the guilt that swelled in my throat and grabbed the box.
I winked before I turned around to leave. “Thanks for the sugar, sugar .”
“Here he is. About goddamn time,” Giaco grumbled when I took the first step into his office. I hadn’t even adjusted to the sound of dining customers or the spicy, semi-sweet scent of pizzas baking in the oven before he was glaring at me.
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t bite back the smirk that tugged at my lips. “I told you I’d be here at four. It’s four. Stop bitching.” I sat the boxes from Sugar & Spice on the desk.
“What are you so happy about?” Enzo asked, sliding past me and ripping open the lid to the first box. When he saw the colorful desserts, he picked one up and stuffed it into his mouth. “You’re smiling,” he said around a mouthful of crumbs.
Giaco looked less amused than he was when I arrived. “You went to fucking handle it with the Cassidys and you came back with cookies?”
“They’re macarons.” I chuckled, grabbing one and eating it in a single bite. They really were delicious. I grabbed a second.
My brother groaned, slamming the lid to the box shut. “Are you taking this seriously?”
“I always take it seriously,” I glared at him. “You need to smile once in a while.”
I dropped into the seat across from him, ignoring the way his face turned redder the angrier he got. When I kicked my feet up onto the corner of the heavy wood desk, he huffed. “Now you’re just being a dick,” he said, shoving my feet off the edge. They dropped back to the floor with a loud thump. “What happened in the meeting?”
“They were prepared with an army when I got there. I should’ve known Mickey and Luca weren’t going to show up alone and prepared for a conversation.” I leaned forward, reaching for the box and grabbing a third macaron. These could be addictive.
Enzo reached over my shoulder, grabbing two more for himself. “These are fuckin’ good,” he said with a full mouth. “You should try one, Giaco.”
He debated for a moment before grumbling and reaching into the box. “What did they say about the car? Did they say it was them?” When he ate the macaron, he rocked his head side to side. He’d never admit out loud that he enjoyed it.
“No, but the smug fuck gave it away with his stupid grin. It had to have been them.” I grew frustrated thinking about the conversation at the pub and the lack of peaceful resolution that came of it. The last thing I wanted was a mess we would have to clean up. “They all but promised to do it again.”
“Of course they did.” Giaco clenched his hands into fists, slamming them against the table. “Mickey is a loose cannon, and his younger brother is worse. If we don’t get in front of this, there’s going to be a war.”
Enzo started to buzz, bouncing from one foot to the other. If there was one thing he never backed down from, it was the idea of a battle. He’d take any chance to show just how ruthless he could be. “If they want a war, we’ll give them a war.” He grinned, and his eyes shined with violent excitement.
“I warned them.” I put my hand on Enzo’s chest in a failed attempt to calm him. “We don’t want to get to that point.”
“We’ll burn their cars,” Enzo sneered, cracking his knuckles.
I shook my head, making a conscious effort not to grit my teeth. “We’ll burn a lot more than their cars,” I promised.
Enzo clapped and grunted in agreement. “Fuck yeah!” He looked about ready to run out and burn anything in sight.
Giaco nodded briefly then shook his head. He leaned forward, reaching into the box for the last macaron and turning it over in his fingers. “Let’s hope we don’t have to.”