Chapter 10 #2
He answered with some sort of grunt and swung his leg over the bulky, black Harley. It suited him. Rhys settled onto his own bike nearby—a sleek, matte black thing that looked fast as hell.
Cian looked over his shoulder as the bike rumbled to life and shouted, “Get on!”
I climbed on behind him and gripped his hips. The bike was parked in a small gravel lot on their compound, and we rode slowly onto a paved driveway that led to a gated entrance. Rhys opened the gate and waited as Cian and I passed through before closing it and following.
Then we rode across the street.
That was it. Right across a two-lane road to the parking lot of a large bar and restaurant called O'Shea’s. The sign was crowned with a Celtic knot. When Cian shut off the engine, I gave him a look. “Was this really necessary? We couldn’t just walk across the street?”
“No.”
One word. No explanation. I didn’t even bother asking him to elaborate.
Through the large glass windows on either side of the front door, I could see Cian’s crew gathered around the bar. Their voices drifted outside as they talked, laughed uproariously, and playfully bickered.
“This meeting is for the crew and employees,” Cian said, joining me as I stood with my hands on my hips, my head craned back to take in the large building.
“The crew knows who you are. The employees don’t.
And we’ll keep it that way.” He followed my gaze as I took in the sturdy stone walls and the heavy wooden door covered with ornate carvings.
“We don’t open for dinner for another couple hours.
It’s mostly greasy-spoon diner food, and the kitchen shuts down around eleven. The bar’s open until two.”
I was surprised Cian took the time to give me any details at all. A few feet away, Rhys stood at the door, one hand on the large iron handle, just waiting.
Cian cleared his throat. “My dad opened this place in 1973. It’s legit.”
I could smell the grease from outside, and my mouth watered. That boiled egg felt forever ago. And before that, I’d been subsisting on those fucking protein bars. “Can I get a burger?”
He eyed me for a moment, then he let out a huff that might have been a laugh. “Let’s go. And don’t make a scene.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I muttered as Rhys swung the door open. Cian walked through first, but Rhys stopped me with a palm raised. I noticed he didn’t touch me.
“This place was in the red before Cian took over, after Patrick’s death. It’s now firmly in the black and growing. If you do anything to hurt this place, I’ll kill you myself. Cian’s wrath be damned. Are we clear?”
I tilted my head to the side. “Aww, what a good best friend you are.”
He stared at me before snorting. “Shit, no wonder he’s losing it.”
He gestured for me to walk inside, and I heard a few crew members call out greetings to Rhys and Cian over the din of conversation.
Until they saw me.
The entire place went quiet except for a few low murmurs.
Bar stools scraped against the wooden floor as men craned their necks to get a look at me.
One guy froze with his beer halfway to his lips.
There had to be close to fifty people in this room, and I almost expected all of them to gang-rush me.
Then Cian moved his big body in front of me, and in a deep growl that echoed around the room, he said, “No one touches him.”
He was met with a respectful chorus of “Yes, Cian,” and a ripple of movement passed through the restaurant as everyone returned to what they were doing, the pause all but forgotten.
“I gave ‘em all a heads-up,” Rhys said. “But it’s probably still a shock to see him.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a fucking zoo animal.”
“Don’t bite people then,” Cian snapped.
I threw up my hands. “It was one time. One time. And I’ll have you know, I’ve never bitten anyone before or since.”
Cian gripped my arm and pulled me over to the short side of the bar where two stools remained vacant. Rhys sat in one, Cian in the other. Then he pulled a third stool over, wedging it between himself and the wall. He pointed at it.
I sat and leaned back against the wall with my arms crossed. One of the three bartenders, a woman in a tight tank top with the bar’s logo stretched over her chest, placed a clear fizzy drink in front of Cian and a beer in front of Rhys.
I casually leaned my elbow on the bar top. “I’d love a water, sweetheart.”
She sputtered out what had to be a laugh as Cian grabbed my chin and turned my face toward him. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Hydrate?”
“Be charming.”
My jaw would have dropped if he hadn’t been gripping it so tightly. “You think I’m charming?”
He ground his teeth together and shoved my chin away. The woman placed a glass of ice water in front of me, and her eyes sparkled as she unsuccessfully hid a smile. “There you go.”
And because I liked trouble, I leaned in and said, “I’m Devlin. What’s your name?”
“Don’t answer him,” Cian barked, turning to me. “Don’t talk to anyone. Just fucking sit there.”
“Can I talk to you?”
His inked claws curled as his fists tightened on the bar top. He leaned toward me, his voice pitched low so no one else could hear.
“Flirt with one more person and see what happens, devil. I’m not fucking with you.”
The threat in his tone sent a delighted shiver down my spine, and I instantly wondered who I could flirt with—but I decided to save some fun for later.
“Fine.” I pointed at his glass. “What’re you drinking?”
“Club soda.”
“What, don’t want to drink on an empty stomach?”
His blue eyes met mine. “I don’t drink alcohol.”
Something about the way he said it told me this wasn’t just about him hating the taste or the way alcohol made him feel.
I knew his father drank. He’d gifted me expensive scotch a few times.
He’d smelled like it too. Patrick had the flushed face of someone who’d been drinking excessively for years.
I knew, because my father had the same one.
I wondered if Patrick was as mean of a drunk as my father had been, or if he’d just been an asshole all the time.
I was a mean drunk too. Hadn’t touched the stuff since I woke up in the hospital. “I don’t drink. Not anymore.”
Cian studied me like he wanted to say more and leaned into my space…
Rhys suddenly cleared his throat. “Cian. Meeting.”
Cian jerked his face away like he’d been caught doing something illegal. Then he nodded sharply. “Right.”