Ruthless: An Irish Mafia Romance (Wild Irish Book 2) Page 2

  “I have a job for you.” Shane rubs the bar counter as he speaks.

  “Yeah?” I knew I was dragged home for a reason.

  “A girl might have witnessed me hurting someone, and I want you to find out what she saw.” Shane pulls a piece of paper from his pocket.

  Another noisy gulp of my tea. “That’s it?”

  I take the piece of paper from Shane. Ava Smith, Apartment Four, John Street Kells is scrawled across it. I rise and stuff it into my back pocket before sitting back down.

  “Yeah, but it’s important, so don’t fuck it up.”

  “I see you haven’t lost your charm,” I tell him, and he gets up.

  “Report back to me.”

  “Not Michael?” I question, and he stares at me before answering.

  “Me, Connor. Not Liam, not Michael. Me.”

  I don’t respond but continue to drink my tea. He thought I was the same boy he left here three years ago.

  I wasn’t that boy anymore.

  AVA

  Thump, thump thump.

  I keep my eyes closed as my landlord continues to bang on my door. I keep still, hiding in my bedroom, my hand over my heart as he calls my name.

  “Ava, I know you’re in there."

  Thump Thump Thump.

  Oh God, just go away.

  This is humiliating, and I want to slide down the wall to the floor, but I don’t dare make a sound. I didn’t think he had seen me come in. I had used the back door and been so quiet climbing the stairs to the second floor. The bottom one is occupied by a hairdresser and bookies. The rest of the building has four apartments. I made sure no one saw me, so how did he know I was here? I didn’t turn on the TV, and my bare feet didn’t make much noise on the floor.

  “I’ll be back, Ava!” he shouts before I hear his steps descend the stairs. It’s only now I allow myself to slump down the wall until I sit on the coral-colored carpet. I sit and allow my heart to slow down and return to a normal beat.

  The front door slams, and my eyes burn, but I don’t let the tears run. I hate hiding. I hate being late with my rent, but lately, I’ve had no luck. The image of my nan with her small blue eyes and large nose makes me smile. If I told her what happened, she would either pay my bill or insist I come back to live with her. But that’s not an option. Trouble has a habit of following me around, and that is something I refuse to bring to her door. She doesn’t deserve that.

  I get ready for work and pray to God, if he really exists, to let me just make it to work without meeting my landlord. I slip from my one-bed apartment and put the key in my grey jacket, before taking a sprint down the stairs and out the back door.

  The wind has picked up. It’s only four in the afternoon and, already, the sky grows dark. I work two doors away from where I live. But I don’t want to use the front door, so this way is a bit longer. It’s a walk around the block. I hate it as it’s not lit up. Getting to work is fine. It’s coming back that always has me walking with hunched shoulders.

  Taking out my phone, I ring Nan, she picks up on the third ring. “Birdy, I was wondering when you were going to ring me.”

  I smile into the phone as I duck my head down to avoid the wind in my eyes.

  “I know, Nan. I was at the gym.” I roll my eyes at the stupid lie, and her soft giggle makes me feel worse.

  “I don’t know what for. You know an empty bag won’t stand.”

  I grin now. She says this all the time.

  “And too full of a one won’t bend,” I counteract, and I can almost hear the smile.

  “Will you be calling round later?”

  “I’m just heading into work, but I’ll give you a call tomorrow. We can talk longer,” I tell her, and her disappointment is evident in her tone.

  “Okay Birdy. You take care of yourself.”

  “I love you, Nan.” The doorway is littered with cigarette butts I will have to sweep up later. But right now, I just want to get out of the cold.

  “Love you, too, Birdy.”

  I say my goodbyes as I enter the lounge ready to stuff my jacket and phone behind the counter, but the room isn’t empty like it normally is. My landlord, Sean, is waiting for me. He gives me the creeps. He drinks way too much, and his eyes have a habit of wandering. The apartment is a shit hole, but it’s cheap, even being so cheap, I’m still struggling.

  “Ava, I was at your flat earlier.” He grins as his eyes rake over me. The tight jeans and top are revealing, but I stand taller, not allowing him to think for one second that he is making me uncomfortable.

  “You’ll get your money, Sean.” My sharp words have him glaring at me.

  “I know I will…but...” He moves closer, the smell of alcohol nearly chokes me. His face looks like a hundred-year-old fisherman’s face, weather-beaten. “I could think of other ways.” He’s so close to my face that I want to gag, but I don’t flinch.

  “You can keep THINKING, because that’s all it will ever be, a thought.” I move around him and remove my jacket while trying to hide my trembling hands and stuff it under the counter. I turn around as his seven-foot frame approaches the counter. I’m glad the counter is between us. I pick up a cloth just to give myself something to do. I don’t want to piss him off completely–I don’t want to lose my job, but I don’t want to appear weak either.

  “I promise I will have your money soon,” I say, trying to remove some of the anger from his features.

  “What can I get you?” I wipe the clean counter.

  “A whiskey that you will pay for.”

  I nod, hating that I have to do this, but if it buys me time, I’ll consider it interest. I ring it up and stick the receipt in my pocket, so I don’t forget to pay for it later. When I started working here at Smyth’s pub, friends used to come in, always expecting a free drink, but they soon realised that wasn’t going to happen. I pay for every drink I take myself or give away. There are no freebies, and the owner, Patrick, is such a decent guy, that I would never do anything to jeopardize his business. It’s already slow.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AVA

  I give Sean his drink and don’t even get a thank you, but I’m glad to get away from him. I enter the main bar. A few lads play pool, and pints of lager sit on the edge of the pool table. Paul, a nice guy and a local, grins up at me and gives me a nod.

  “Pints off the table lads,” I say, and they remove them with mumbles of sorry. There isn’t an ounce of harm in any of them. We live in a town with high unemployment and too many pubs. It causes young people like Paul and his friends to flock to the local pubs.

  The door into the back is slightly open, and I push it open further to see Patrick tallying up receipts.

  “Ava, you’re in.” A large smile accompanies his words. My stomach flutters, with what I want to ask, but I keep it calm.

  “Yep, just Paul and the lads in, that’s all.”

  He nods. “Yeah, if I didn’t need the customers, I’d run them.”

  “They’d just go to another pub. You’d do no good.”

  “Maybe they’d decide to do something with their lives.” Not a chance, but I don’t say that.

  “Maybe. I was wondering if there’s any extra shifts going?”

  Already Patrick looks guilty, and I want to take my words back. He hates saying no.

  “I had to let Lindsey go.”

  Oh no. “Ah no, I’m sorry Patrick. She was lovely.” He’s nodding.

  “Look, it was just for extra’s, so no worries.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, and I nod.

  “I am.” I smile wide. “I better get back to work before the boss sees me dossing,” I say, and he laughs as I close the door. I don’t let my smile slip until I’m back to wiping the counter.

  I don’t have a clue what I’m going to do. A new patron enters. His height and width have all the lads around the pool table stopping and gawking at him as he sits himself at the end of the bar. That’s the thing with small towns. Anyone new gets gawked at like a
zoo exhibit. His eyes are downcast, and a few days stubble coats his face. When he just waits and doesn’t order, the lads go back to playing pool.

  I make my way down to him with a smile. Smiling in this job is so unappreciated, but it’s always important to me.

  “What can I get you?” I ask even as my eyes take in the bracelets on his wrist, and the lace necklace that disappears under his checker shirt.

  “Carlsberg.” His deep voice is what I expect. His long eyelashes lift, and he flicks me a gaze. It takes me a second to extract myself from his brown eyes.

  “Coming right up,” I say more for me than him. He isn’t from around here, that I’m sure. I would remember a face like that. I place his beer on a beer mat and take the twenty he offers me. His hands are bandaged, some have small spots of red surfacing through.

  I ring it up and return his change as Paul arrives at the counter. He eyes the stranger as he orders three beers and more coins for the pool table.

  “You’re not from around here?” Paul questions, but he doesn’t pay Paul any attention. Instead, he picks up his pint and takes a deep drink. I’m going pretty slow at pouring the pints, but I’m interested to know where he is from.

  “No,” he answers, not looking at Paul.

  “Where are you from?” This time the stranger doesn’t answer, and I know I need to step in. Paul’s friends are also watching, and I don’t want something stupid to happen. Paul being the alpha of his group might not like being ignored in front of his friends.

  “Here are your pints,” I tell Paul with a smile, getting his attention and the attention of the stranger.

  “Thanks, Ava.” Paul automatically relaxes and takes the pints before returning for his change. I start to wipe down the counters, and I want to scream as Sean enters from the lounge area. Why couldn’t he just stay where he was. He rattles his glass at me as he takes a seat at the opposite end of the bar.

  “What can I get you, Sean?”

  “Whiskey that’s on you again.” I take the glass and lean into him. “I’ll give you a whiskey, but it’s not on me. I told you, I’d get you your money.” I lean out and ring up the whiskey. I don’t pour it until he hands over the money, which he does.

  Sean drinks the whiskey quickly while staring at me over the glass. He’s had a lot to drink and I have the right mind to cut him off, but I’ll keep taking his money since he’s such an asshole.

  I get him another before I tidy under the counter, I know when I’m being watched, and right now, I am. I clash with a set of brown eyes. My eyes flicker to his half pint, and he follows my gaze before picking up the beer and finishing it.

  I make my way down to him. “You want another?” I ask. There is something about his eyes that pull me in but also make me want to run. It’s an odd sensation.

  “Yeah, thanks.” He speaks with a tilt of his chin.

  My eyes flicker to his bandaged knuckles again before returning to him. I’m more curious than normal about this guy. I want to know what happened to his hands. Was he in a fight? What would he be like when he’s angry? Right now there is a calm about him, one that wouldn’t bring violence to mind. I get his pint and return it, just as Sean howls for me again.

  My hand tightens on the twenty that brown eyes hands to me, and I pull, but he doesn’t release it. I’m surprised when I glance at him, to find his intense stare focused on me.

  I wait for him to speak, but he releases the money and me of his hold. I return to the till and wonder if I have just imaged that. Sean howls again, and I’ve had enough.

  I’m so close to kicking him out, when he squeals.

  “Apologize now.” My stomach hollows out as my ex, Brian, grips Sean by the back of the neck. When Sean doesn’t speak, he rattles him, and I take a step closer but am glad of the bar counter that separates us.

  “Brian, please.” It’s whispered, but he doesn’t hear me. He never has. He pulls Sean from the bar stool, and I know everyone is watching. I want to go and get Patrick, but I’m rooted to the spot.

  “Apologize now, or I’ll smash your face in.” Sean looks at me then, his face looking white and his eyes focused. He doesn’t look like the same man who had howled at me only a moment ago. Now he’s sober and afraid, and he should be.

  “Sorry.” He says it through clenched teeth, before he yelps as Brian squeezes his neck tighter.

  “Say it nicely this time,” he tells Sean, and Paul and the guys giggle. Everyone is watching my landlords humiliation. Now I will definitely be kicked out of my apartment.

  “Brian.” I speak louder this time, and he finally looks at me. “He’s just a drunk. It’s fine.” The towel I grip in my hand does nothing to relieve the stress pouring through my body.

  “You will say sorry and in a very nice tone.” Once again I’m ignored as Brian leans into Sean, and he’s enjoying this too much. He always was a bully. I fell for his looks. With bright blue eyes and blond hair, he is attractive. That and muscles that seemed to bulge on every part of his body just added to the appeal. And he wasn’t a good boy. He wasn’t a boy you got to keep, but I saw the challenge and tried to tame a beast, only the beast turned on me.

  “I’m sorry, Ava,” Sean says, but I take no pleasure in his humiliation.

  “It’s okay, Sean.” I feel terrible. Brian gives him a final shake before he lets him go. My fingers unlock from the cloth, and I flex my fingers as I watch my landlord leave. Now I wish I was going with him. Brian is smiling at me, and I try to keep the disgust from my face.

  “You on a break soon?” I flicker a glance around the room. Paul and his friends are playing pool, but I can tell they aren’t focused. The stranger is nursing his pint. I can’t really tell if he is listening or not.

  “Yeah, just let me tell Patrick,” I answer. I know saying no to him would be pointless. He’d barge in and demand that Patrick let me go.

  I knock on Patrick’s door as he’s getting up. “Ah, I was just about to come out.” I force a smile.

  “It’s quiet and all, but I was wondering if I could take five,” I ask, and he’s nodding while shooing me with his hands.

  Brian is out back smoking a fag. It’s gotten dark, and I shiver for more than one reason. I stay close to the door just in case.

  “How have you been keeping?” he asks.

  It pisses me off, but I’m not dumb, so I shove that rage down, deep down.

  “Yeah fine. What do you want Brian?” I ask. A small amount of anger slips through into my words, and he stands a bit straighter making me flinch.

  His eyes widen and he looks away from me, brows furrowed before returning his glance back at me. The anger in his eyes darkens them.

  “Shit, Ava. I’m sorry.”

  I’ve heard this song a hundred times. Folding my arms over my chest, I look away. I don’t respond, but as he approaches, I’m alert and take a step back.

  “Fuck sake, Ava, you’re acting like I’m some sort of fucking animal.” His voice rises, and the hairs on my neck stand.

  I’m shaking my head at him. But I should be saying you’re not an animal. But he is, and I have some pride left in me. I also don’t want him to hit me again.

  “I need to go back in.” I tell him but don’t move. There is no point without his approval. I don’t get it.

  “I want you back.” My eyes burn at his words, the gentle way he looks at me now. That’s what I fell in love with, a gentle giant, the side of him that rippled through my heart but wasn’t real.

  I’m shaking my head, as my eyes continue to well up. I want to cry in his arms and tell him how this guy, a monster, put his hands on me. I want to send Brian to beat the living shit out of him. I stand back and push down my tears.

  “No,” I say, and with all the courage I can muster up, I walk back into the bar. My eyes scan the empty bar and land on Patrick, but his attention is on Brian who I know stands behind me.

  I wait with stiff shoulders until Brian walks past me, his words leave a trail behind him and reac
h me, strangling the air from my lungs.

  “We’ll chat again.” Like hell we will is my weak ass comeback that I don’t even say out loud.

  The night drags, with a few regulars coming and going. Patrick stays with me, and a few times, he tells me I can go home if I want. But I have nothing to go home too. It’s midnight by the time I leave and make my way up to the Rose Garden’s takeaway. There’s a few cars around, but the night has really cooled. My breath puffs out as I look left and right before running across the road.

  Mae’s pub has a few people outside smoking, the smoking ban hurt every pub in Ireland, except the ones who don’t stick to the rules after hours. Like where I work, Smyth’s would turn into a smoking zone when they locked the doors, and the pub didn’t officially close until the last patron left. It was that kind of pub.

  I look behind me several times getting the feeling that I am being watched, but each time I peer over my shoulder, no one is there.

  The heat of the Chinese is lovely, and I order a three in one before sitting on the mahogany bench. The Rose Garden is like every Chinese place around. All black shiny exterior with gold writing, on the back wall inside is a gold dragon with lots of floating lanterns around it. The door opens, and I find myself stiffening while looking up waiting for Brian to appear, but it’s not him, just some drunk guy.

  The sense of being watched follows me the whole way home and doesn’t stop until I close my apartment door.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CONNOR

  She isn’t what I was expecting. It’s been a long time since any woman has really caught my attention. Ava, her name suits her. I had to walk away when Brian had arrived into the pub, what she was doing with him was beyond me, and it didn’t match the picture that had started to form in my mind, until he had come in and smashed it. Her emerald green eyes seemed innocent and soft; yet at times her eyes carried so much weight, like someone who had seen too much. I can tell she is a hard worker. Her boss is fond of her but the man who kept asking for money wasn’t.