AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 3
Cahill
Three Weeks Later
I’m sitting in the back of one of my many restaurants talking to a family in New York. I am the head of the Irish family in Dublin, the Traynor family. My dad was head, until three years ago when he was killed while visiting the family in Las Vegas. The Russians heard he was there and had a great shot. I don’t think I will leave Ireland now.
The Russians believed if they took out my old man there would be no family left in Ireland to send over guns and drugs to our family in New York, so they would become their supplier. Stupid arrogant fucks. So, Dad died, and I took over. I was always meant to take over, but not for a few more years, but hey, that is life, as my mam would say.
My mam and sister have both moved to Spain. It’s a little safer for them there, and my sister can continue to study. My sister is called Aoife, and she is studying languages; Spanish and French are her two main languages. She would love to teach children when she graduates from Universität de Barcelona. I would call it, University of Barcelona, because I speak English, but Aoife loves to say it in Spanish. She’s far too smart for her own good. It’s better for them both to be away, even though I miss them dearly. My sister would’ve distracted me with all the men trying to grab her attention, and I can’t go round beating men just for the fun of it, or the Garda will be onto me.
I call them once a week to check in. Aoife needs to be there because Mam can’t work face time, so it’s just easier. Aoife texts me a few times a week to tell me how her course is going, things she has bought, and how her friends are doing. I know everything her and Mam do anyway as I’m paying someone to watch over them, but they don’t know it. Aoife likes to fill me in, lucky big brother that I am.
I miss my mam’s cooking. She’s the best cook. We had a good Irish dinner every night, a plate full of creamy mash and meat. Can’t beat it, honestly. I have chefs to cook for me, but they aren’t the same as Mam. No one cooks like an Irish mother. I even try to recreate the meals at my restaurants, but I can’t get the chefs to do them justice.
I’m sitting here listening to Cillian talk about how they’ve moved the drugs in New York and made a shit ton of money on the back of it, and all I can think about is Sophie. This little petite woman fell at my feet and stared up at me with the darkest brown eyes I have ever seen. My dirty filthy mind enjoyed she landed on her ass and was looking up at me. I doubt I’d get tired of seeing that.
I saw the book she was holding. I can’t lie and say I didn’t look it up, but I totally did. This Dante character is some hard man, and he is also in the mafia, ok, fantasyland, but she was reading about my world. I know they totally dramatize it for books and romance, but she is still interested in the bad boy and the underworld life, dirty deals, shaking corrupt politicians’ hands, and naughty little girls.
The real mafia doesn’t have happily ever after stories, usually body bags. It is changing in modern times. We are trying to work smarter to keep ourselves out of jail by doing more cyber work without links back to ourselves. We are still corrupt with the Garda and Politicians for shipments, we mainly use blackmail to get what we need done. Men in power are greedy and will do anything for their wives to never find out. But death is still a very real part of our world. These books make it all sound so happy and easy. It’s anything but. So many women dig these books, but I don’t think they could handle the reality of being involved with the mafia.
When I saw Sophie, she took my breath away. That hasn’t happened since I was fifteen and saw my first set of real tits. Now women are just a means to an end for me. I need to let off steam, and they do the job. No kissing or cuddling, and no repeats. One night is all you get with me. I explain myself before anything happens and the women are grand. I usually use a high-end escort service. The women are well-paid, happy to do what I ask, they get a large tip and leave, everyone is happy.
But Sophie. Wow! What I would like to do to her. She looked so innocent in her long flowery skirt, it hid everything, but I could tell she has a cracker body underneath all her clothes, and I saw it. I couldn’t believe she walked into my club that night. In her red dress and killer heels, just stunning. She looked so out of place in my club. But I couldn’t stop staring at her. I think she caught me, but I can’t be too sure. When I saw that asshole take her to the dance floor, I was seeing red, he had his hands on her! I wanted them to be mine.
I was making my way down to the dance floor when I saw him walk out the door and his friend was following him. Sophie was on the dance floor all alone and confused. When I made my way over to where she was, she was walking out the door. I was so close to talking to her again, but she left. I have spent every weekend since in my nightclub hoping she would come back, but she hasn’t, not even her blonde friend. I have gone to the coffee shop or drove past it nearly every day at lunch time in the hope of catching a glimpse of her, and I haven’t. I gave up, but I can’t stop daydreaming about her. One night with her won’t be enough, but I want to try.
I am daydreaming about Sophie in my head while I’m trying to look like I’m listening to Cillian when my phone rings.
“Boss, we were at the warehouse doing the drop off, and some wee lass was inside eavesdropping and taking pictures. We have her, want us to take her to the basement in Sandy Rd or the back room in Brazen?” Liam asks, he’s one of my loyal foot soldiers.
“Brazen. I’m here anyway. See you in five, just need to wrap it up here.”
Now I am raging! Who the fuck thinks they can send a woman to do their dirty work? I know one thing—I will be finding out for fucking sure who! Cowards! I give my right-hand man, Ruairi, a call, just a heads up. He is over at one of the casinos going over the loans and checking who needs to pay up or who needs to have a visit from the enforcers, aka Ruairi himself, to remind them they are late paying. Ruairi is my best friend. We grew up together, and he lives up to his name, red-haired king with the ladies. I am the only king around here though. I don’t need Ruairi to come in, but I do like to keep him updated in case he’s heard of other families, the north paramilitary groups or the Garda trying to scope us out before I go meet the lass spying on me.
Sophie
It’s Friday and I’m rushing out the door of work to get to the abandoned warehouse near the docks. I want to get the perfect picture of all three books in the Santiago Trilogy I’ve just finished for my bookstagram. I’ve already written my reviews on Goodreads, but now I need pictures for my blog. It needs to be perfect.
The sun is shining again. It’s summertime, after winter I enjoy it when the sun’s out. I’m wearing my trainers, wide leg trousers, oversized top, and floppy sun hat. I don’t look like someone who should be around abandoned warehouses, but it's not like anyone comes near them, well, besides graffiti artists. They don’t create anything amazing, but it will be a great backdrop in the pictures for my bookstagram post, so I won't complain.
I make my way across town and arrive at an abandoned warehouse. Light filters through, and the open space is lovely. How someone hasn’t snapped this building up and made something out of it I will never know. It is just stunning. My pictures will look amazing, I have no doubt. I need to do each book separately and then have all of them together. It can take time, but it’s worth the effort.
I set one book on the broken windowsill so I can get the sea in the background. The second book I place against the wall with graffiti behind it. The third book I place in the doorway so I can have the interior of the warehouse behind it with patches of light coming into the shot. It’s perfect, so pretty, even if I do say so myself.
The shot with the three books together I plan to set on top of a pile of rubble, trying to include the window with the sea behind it. It will just complete the set. As I go about setting the books up to get the right angle, I can hear male voices, but I don’t think much of it. They must be using the car park or something. I snap some more pictures, then move the books slightly as the light is catching them and I snap away again. As I look through the pictures the male voices get louder, and sound more aggressive, but I can’t really make out what they’re talking about, also it’s none of my business. I just sit down inside the warehouse on the ground to upload my pictures and reviews to my blog. I’m so proud of my effort. I really hope the author will repost them to her page and be amazed by them too. It makes my day when an author reposts one of my posts. Lauren thinks I’m so silly given how excited I get, but she doesn’t complain when I get free signed copies through the post.
“They could be worth millions one day,” she always says sarcastically.
I put away my books into my bag and settle my hat back on my head when I hear footsteps get close to the warehouse. It sounds like a few men are coming. The scaredy cat I am hides behind the pile of rubble to wait and see if they leave, or if the footsteps get closer. I haven’t done anything wrong. It could be just a graffiti artist and his mates coming back to do some more art on the walls. If it is, I will act like I am picking up my bag and talk to them. I am not very good with strangers, and I find talking to them awkward. I like books and animals better. I like talking to people online, it’s easier than real life.
I stay quiet and hide. Through a crack in the rubble I see legs in black trousers and black dress shoes walk into the room, they stop and slowly walk back out. I'm not sure what he’s doing, maybe he’s selling the warehouse or buying it, who knows. I stay where I am for a few more minutes and then gather myself up. As I am walking toward the exit I hear the male voices, but they seem far enough away. I walk on out, keep my head down to watch my footing and walk home. I can’t wait to show Lauren the pictures I got today.
As I start to walk home, I don’t pay attention around me, and look up at the sky. I hear footsteps behind me, with a quick glance over my shoulder I spot a man in a black suit walking behind. And he’s staring straight at me. I speed up and walk a little faster, he is probably the same man that walked into the warehouse. He might be innocent, but because I read dark mafia romance novels I have him pinned as a bad guy, which isn’t fair on him.
I’m nearly on the main street. It’s just one more turn down an alley. This alley would be great for taking pictures of books too. The alleys are wide and let in plenty of light, and if I pair it with some cool street art, like that pair of wings with a rainbow coming out. I think I will come here next time to grab some pictures for the blog. I take a quick little look behind me, and just as I do I feel a hand over my mouth and an arm go around my waist, holding my arms in.
A man whispers, “Don’t make this difficult. We just need you to come with us. You won’t be hurt.” But I know he is lying. He is going to hurt me. I don’t know why. What did I do? I start to struggle. I try kicking with my legs and wriggle. I try to bite, but he has a good clamp on my mouth. I am sweating. Not the sexy type. I wish I went to the gym with Lauren now. I should have taken a few self-defense classes. I need to keep struggling to get free. I keep looking around me. He hasn’t moved with me. He’s just holding me while I struggle. What is he doing? Why is he not dragging me away? Then I see it, a black SUV. The driver gets out and smiles at me while opening the back door. Now he’s moving me, he is going to put me into that car.
No! No! No! I am internally screaming in my head where no one can hear me.
As we get close to the car, I kick my legs out and try to push them up against the car to stop him from putting me inside. My mam warned me about this. She has always been scared and nervous. But it’s really happening. As I kick my legs up the driver just grabs them, with ease, as if he knew I would try this, which tells me this isn’t their first time kidnapping. This is it. I’m done for. I will never tell my mum I love her again. I will never see Lauren again. I will never know if the author liked my post and review. All my followers will never know what happened to me. Oh God, no one will know what happened to me.
The driver swings my legs in and that brute of a man that is holding me pushes my head down, and then places me in the car. That was kind, he didn’t want to bang my head. Once I’m inside the car still being held by the brute, that is my official name for him now, and the driver is in we start moving, the brute lets me go. I scramble to the other side, pulling my tote bag with me, and hold up it in front of me.
The brute asks, “What are you going to do with that bag, lass?” I think about it. I know the doors are locked, I heard them click, I don’t think I could break the glass, but I might be able to do some damage with these big books; they are only paperbacks, but they are still big and heavy. Now do I strike brute or driver? If I strike the driver, we could crash and possibly do more harm to me, or if I strike brute, I might be able to deal with driver after, so brute it is.
The bag is still above my head, I bring it down with all my force, hoping to hit his face. He watches me in disbelief, and I manage to get his nose. The downward force brings my bag down to hit his crotch, and legs too. Wow, he screams like a little girl. But the problem is he’s not knocked out, and I think I might have got him a tiny bit angry.
The driver is laughing so hard that he distracts me. Brute grabs my bag with a snarl aimed at me. I squeak and push up against the door. The driver stops. This is it—my boring life is over. And I didn’t even fight well. I peek out the window and see we are at the Brazen restaurant. We’re still in Dublin City. Why?
The driver turns to me and says, “Awe, lass, I haven’t laughed so hard in ages. Pity we got to take ya to the boss. Hopefully he won’t hurt ya too much. Why don’t we go see him? Maybe keep that weapon to yourself? And try to behave a little? I don’t think you want my friend holding you again, do ya, lass?”
With big wide eyes I nod my head to agree, maybe once the door is open, I can make a run for it. I don’t know why I am brought to this restaurant. This is all strange. Brute stays beside the back of the car, while the driver opens my door. I shuffle a little to get out, and just as my feet hit the pavement, brute is right behind with something hard, like metal, sticking into my back. When I look over my shoulder and see a gun, I nearly cry while brute smiles at me. Fuck! He is going to kill me. His smile is as crazy as the Joker’s, only he has a gold front tooth. Those who get them in this day and age are thugs, and he is a big thug. Was his gold tooth done as an implant, or was it done as a filling? Why am I thinking about teeth when I’m about to die? It could only be my luck I would die at the hands of a man with a gold front tooth.
The driver holds his hand out for me. “C’mon, my lady. Let’s go get you some food and talk?” He says with a big smile. He has nice teeth. No gold teeth I can see. He is kind of pretty, if he wasn’t kidnapping me, I would smile and try flirt with him. Lauren would love him. He is her type. I take his massive hand and we walk together into the restaurant.
Through the main entry there is a doorway off to the left, he opens the door for me. There is a dark hallway with no art or for that matter, any color or light. There is a kind of rustic feel, but I don’t think many people come down here.
We come to a doorway on the left, as he opens the door I try to stay back, I’m not feeling too good about this. I haven’t seen a single employee or customer since we entered this hallway. Once the door is open, he pulls me in by my hand that he is still holding. It’s a bare room with just a single wooden chair and hanging light. The driver offers me the chair. I look around. All I see is a drain hole in the floor. The walls are just concrete like the floor. Nothing special. I am not even sure if it’s a part of the restaurant. I don’t know where I am now. I am shaking. I want to ask so much, to say so much, but I don’t know where to start. I take a seat and I hear someone closes the door.
I look over at brute, and ask, “Can I have my bag please?” I am no louder than a whisper.
Brute's eyes go so dark. “No,” he replies. My eyes go wide.
“Why not? They are my books. I want my books, brute.” I square up to him.
The driver is laughing again. “I think she called you brute! Ooo, lass, I want to keep you for the entertainment factor alone.”
Brute just stares at me. “No. Boss needs to see the bag,” Brute finally mumbles at me. So, I do the mature thing and mock him. “The boss needs to check your bag. Fucking boo-hoo!”
Only the driver hears me, and he is laughing again. I am so glad I am amusing someone. I am in a stare off with brute. The driver is laughing and texting someone. I don’t hear the door open. When I finally notice someone standing there, I can’t believe my eyes. It’s Cahill! What is he doing here? But, oh my, doesn’t he look good in a suit. Cahill looks at me and before I can think better of it, I blurt out and say, “You! Coffee boy!” He looks as stunned as I feel as I continue to blabber away. “Please, help me, these ogres have kidnapped me. I haven’t done anything. You need to help me before some boss dude arrives!”
Well, now the driver is laughing so hard in the corner with tears down his face and I don’t know what is so funny. He is definitely a psycho. Cahill just keeps staring at me until he drops the biggest bombshell of the day.
“I am the boss, Sophie.” My eyes nearly pop out. I didn’t see that one coming at all. Also, what is he the boss of? The restaurant I walked through. It still doesn’t explain why I am kidnapped. Why won’t anyone just tell me why I am being held here? I’m a reasonable woman, I think. Not sure the brute would agree since I hit him, but he had it coming. Stupid man.
