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“Why don’t you just quit?”
“Cos I’m not a quitter.”
“You’re also not really a smoker. Never pegged you for the type to want to hang with the cool kids,” I tease.
Finn chuckles beside him, his eyes cast down to his drink. Finn rarely speaks, but he takes in everything. The two brothers work well together. Finn is the eyes and ears, and Ciaran the mouthpiece. The fuckin’ annoying mouthpiece.
Ciaran grunts as he moves out of his chair and shrugs on his coat. “Pansy boy, I’m gonna bounce. Sitting here and watching your pussy ass pine for some chick isn’t my idea of a good time.” He turns to his dark-haired twin. “You comin’ with me, or are you gonna sit here and wallow with this fucker?”
Finn gives Ciaran the finger and gets up. The whole time I’ve known the two brothers, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Finn talk. I wish I could say the same for Ciaran.
“Ten years, my man. You’ve been after her for ten years. You’ve known where she is for a few weeks, and all you’ve done is stalk her. Better make your move before another fucker does.”
My jaw ticks at the idea of anyone else touching my girl. “I’ll kill him.”
“You’re gonna have a long kill list cos that girl is beautiful, and a lot of assholes will be sniffin’ around her.”
“I’ve killed for her before. I’ve got no issues with getting my hands bloody.”
“You could douse your ass in blood or dip your dick in some honey. The choice is yours, my man.”
I hate Ciaran. The guy is a complete joker and insane, but he also packs some wisdom. The truth is a part of me doesn’t think I deserve her. I haven’t since we were kids. Emily is sunshine and light, while I am darkness and pain.
Ciaran slaps my back and brings me out of my thoughts. “Go grab your balls out of the Ziplock bag you’ve put them in and man up.”
I watch as my two friends walk out of the bar, leaving me alone. I stare at the blood dripping from my hands. The wounds are trivial compared to the one left by the girl with the wild red hair and haunting green eyes.
Chapter Two
EMILY
“Want me to stay and help you close?” Travis asks.
I pat the side pocket of my jeans. “Armed and dangerous. I can handle him.”
“Mace won’t do much against a gun, Emily.”
I know he’s right, but I hate being scared. I’ve been scared most of my life, and about three years ago, I decided I’d never be scared again. It was around the time I broke free of the bullshit and built a life for myself. I faced my trauma head on and will not let it take hold of me again. Sure, someone could grab me, attack me and make me another victim, but I refuse to live my life scared of the outcome. I can’t see the future, and I refuse to live in fear.
“I can stick around.”
“Nah,” I say, waving him off. “I know you got that big exam coming up tomorrow, and I don’t want you to be too tired. You’re going to be an amazing lawyer one day, Travis. There’s no way I’m gonna be hindering any part of your dream.”
“I’m not offering to quit school, Emily. I’m just offering to stay with you while you close the pub.”
“Go home, Travis. I’ll be alright.”
Travis offers a sweet smile. “See you Monday.”
Travis is right. Most people would find the guy sitting at the bar watching me like a hawk, a little unnerving. But the thing is, the way he does, it isn’t creepy at all. He doesn’t undress me with his eyes; he shows no signs of being a threat to me. Almost as if he’s fascinated by every little thing I do.
He’s been coming to the bar since my first day, almost three weeks ago. Like clockwork, as soon as I start my shift, he shows up, takes a seat at one table or the bar, and doesn’t leave until I do.
Not once has he talked to me or ordered from me. It’s almost like he tries to avoid me.
This is the first time he’s gotten this close to me. My gaze travels from the messy dark strands of his floppy hair covering his eyes down to the bloodstained hand holding on to the beer bottle. I heard the breaking of glass a little earlier and how he dismissed the server when he inquired about what happened. Whatever was said to him before he broke the glass must have been very upsetting.
“Last call. Can I get you anything else before we close?” I ask.
“I don’t know about that guy, but I’d like a little something.”
The voice is loud and very drunk. As I turn, I come face-to-face with a large, robust man staggering towards me. I’m not sure this guy needs a drink because he can barely walk in a straight line as is.
