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We went back to watching the telly quietly for a bit as I soaked in the feeling of my sister by my side. Fuck, I’d miss her. All of them. I’d never known life on my own. There’d always been a whole gang of us McGowans wherever we went as kids, filling rooms with our play-fighting and noise.
A solo McGowan was basically unheard of.
‘Did you see Alec tonight?’ Maeve asked, mock fanning her face.
‘Yeah, he’s been hanging about to make sure I’m being a good little wife to be.’ Much to my chagrin.
‘When he rolled up his sleeves and leant back against the door frame, I thought I was going to need a cold shower,’ Maeve said. It hadn’t failed to catch my eye either. He’d been laughing along with my brothers when he’d stopped to slowly roll up his shirt sleeves, baring those muscled, tattooed forearms. He certainly made for some delightful eye candy.
‘I wish I’d had a night with him before going off to be with Harold. I deserve a hen night. One last cock before having to deal with his for the rest of my life.’ The sour taste of vomit tickled at the back of my throat at the thought of being anywhere near Harold’s nether regions.
‘You should. Hell, he looks like he could be done with a good ride.’
Alec had always been far more reserved with both myself and my sister than he was with my brothers. He looked at them almost as though he coveted their attention. Then again, when you looked like he did, he probably had women hanging off of him left, right and centre.
I’d thought about it over the years that he’d been sporadically in and out of our home. He was attractive, well dressed, well groomed, and had those big hands you couldn’t help but imagine being pinned beneath.
Ever the professional, he’d never risen to any of my flirting.
Maybe I hadn’t been trying hard enough.
FOUR
ALEC
Laughter filled the small kitchen, where we often ended up late in the evenings. The McGowan mansion held multiple kitchens; the extensive chrome filled one that the chefs used to cater to the household, a show kitchen in the main part of the mansion that I’d only seen used during events as a sort of go between for the waiting staff, and this cosier kitchen that the siblings used for their own snacking. It was still bigger than my one and only kitchen, and definitely better stocked, too. One thing I loved about the McGowan’s place was that they fed me like a king, even if I wasn’t one of them.
Ewen grabbed some beers from the fridge and passed them around. I declined. Unlike the brothers, I was on the clock. It was easy to forget for a few minutes here and there, to pretend like I was one of them, but soon enough someone would give me an order or a task and my place in the organisation, and their home, would come screeching back.
‘I’ll just grab a water,’ I said, helping myself before leaning back against the counter. My presence had been required more in the lead up to the wedding. My task? To ensure things went smoothly. Both the McGowans and the Thompsons had a whole horde of enemies who would like the thwart their attempt at a union. All hands were on deck to ensure that the wedding went ahead without a hitch.
Logan was all business as usual. ‘Everything is set for Saturday. The cars will arrive at twelve and have us to the chapel for half past. The route is being managed by our security firm and they’ll also be on hand in the chapel itself.’
‘Aye, I’ve briefed everyone and they know their tails are on the line if the fuck up,’ Mac said, launching a peanut up into the air before catching it.
‘The suits have arrived and you should have all done a last fitting by now.’ Logan gave a pointed look at Mac, who gave him a sheepish grin. He forever skived anything he found boring. ‘If you haven’t, go get to it.’
Mac groaned, downing his beer and heading for the door. ‘She doesn’t even want to marry him. Why would she care if my suit fits?’
‘Dad will care. I’ll care. Go get it done.’ Logan flexed his eldest son privileges, again. They may all be siblings, but that didn’t stop the hierarchy from being very succinct. Logan was the eldest after stepping in after his eldest brother’s demise. Then Ewen. Esther is next in age order, but women come last in the crime families. Treasured often, but not given any real responsibility. They had most definitely not caught up with the new millennium. Mac was next in line. He was the youngest male and his absolutely wicked level of ‘don’t give a flying fuck’ showed it. Then Maeve, the baby of the family. It seemed insane to me they all lived in their father’s house still, although they were in their twenties and thirties. But I guess if I had a an enormous mansion surrounded by people who loved me, I’d be loath to leave too.
‘Alec, you’re on Esther patrol tonight and tomorrow night. She’d been acting weird. I want you outside her room overnight, so get some shuteye before then. It’s covered until ten pm and then you are on the clock.’ Logan slathered butter over crisp toast as he spoke. Epic chefs at their beck and call, yet still a slice of hot buttered toast appealed. The rich are wild.
‘Got it Logan.’ Even the water tasted better, ice cold out of their expensive fridge and in condensation clad glass bottles.
‘Right Ewen, you’re with me. We need to go over the marriage contract again to make sure Harold hasn’t slipped in some wording which will fuck us over. The lawyer should be here by now.’
Silence surrounded me as they left, and I sighed. They treated me pretty well for a bunch of criminals, but I still always feltotheraround them. I hated that I wanted to desperately to be accepted. To be needed.
I pulled out the bread and got to making myself some toast. It was going to be a long night.
‘I’ll have some if you’re making.’ My shoulders bunched as Esther’s sweet, lilting voice surrounded me.
‘Sure.’ The atmosphere in the room changed as she entered it, her perfume drifting over and mingling with the smell of the toast. She always wore just a bit too much. What would she smell like without it? The thought of my face pressed into her neck teased at me and I shook it quickly out of my head.Fucking hell, Alec, she’s about to be married.
Soon enough I passed her a plate of toast, and she leant against the counter beside me, flashing me the occasional look as we ate in awkward silence.
‘I hear you're babysitting me tonight.’
