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Jumping when the phone rings, I race to it after a beat, snatching it up from the nightstand, hoping it’s Ciarán.
It’s Amelia.
I haven’t spoken to her in a couple of days, since the night I was supposed to go out with Gary. The night Ciarán staked his claim on me with a savage brutality that will stay with me forever. I’ve been dodging her calls, not wanting to talk to her. What am I supposed to say? This is all so fucked up.
Chucking it back on the nightstand, I let it ring and head down to the kitchen, needing coffee, food and then a cool shower to ease the burning itch on my back. The day ahead is going to be tough in more ways than one. Not only do I have to get dressed and stand at work for four hours while my back is healing, but I have to face Gary. We are on shift together this afternoon, and I’m drawing a complete blank as to what I’m supposed to say. Has he told anyone? Did he call the police? No one came around to check on me, so I’m assuming not. Which kind of puts him in the serious douchebag of the year category. My eyes narrow in fury at the thought of the police. PC Dunsten is a big fat liar. Ciarán was supposed to have fled back to Ireland, but nooooo. He is still here, defying the injunction - if it was even filed - and showing up on my doorstep as if we’re married and me going out with Gary was a heinous crime.
“Asshole,” I mutter. “Aunt Margaret was right all those years ago. All men are assholes.”
With that thought embedded firmly in my mind, I grab my coffee and head back upstairs for a few minutes with my book before I have to get ready for work.
18
CATHAL
The shadows obscure me from view as I watch Ciarán’s eyes bore into the pretty blonde woman working at this mundane department store in the city. Despite the sway of his stance, which speaks volumes, he’s fixated on her, every muscle in his body tense with anticipation and desire. Unbeknownst to him, I’m here, observing his every move.
The woman, oblivious to my brother’s gaze, keeps peeking up at a blonde preppy-looking guy working some way from her, his back turned and stiff.
Lover’s spat?
So, I’m watching him, watching her, watching some other guy. It’s a fecking stalker convention in this place, the way we’re all watching one another covertly.
Around us, the usual gathering of people buzzes with energy and chatter. But something feels off, like an undercurrent of unease that ripples through the air. It’s pronounced and unsettling.
Ciarán’s possessive stare doesn’t waver, his eyes darkening with intensity. The woman shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her gaze flicking back and forth between the preppy guy and her work. She’s unaware that she has not one, but two sets of eyes glued to her every movement.
“Can I help you with something?” a nearby saleswoman asks me, pulling me away from my observations for a moment.
“Fuck off,” I growl, sending her scurrying away in horror.
My gaze returns to Ciarán and the blonde woman, so tiny and delicate like Tinkerbell. I’m oddly drawn to their magnetic pull. There’s something about their dynamic that intrigues me, that captivates my interest and makes me want to understand what drives this scenario.
The hunger in his eyes is almost fierce, a primal force that only serves to intrigue me further.
This wasn’t what I expected when my man told me Ciarán was here. I’ve been tracking him for some time now, curious as to his movements. Ryan called me the other day and told me Ciarán’s drinking was getting out of hand. That’s when I knew the weakness I was looking for was going to present itself sooner rather than later. However, Tinks here, has just provided me with a different avenue. It’s as obvious as the three of us stand here that he is in love with her. As much as I want to confront him right now about our family business, there’s something about this situation that demands my attention and shouts at me to hang back.
That will be useful.
She can help me get what I want.
Drawing my gaze back to Tinks, she has a genuine smile for the customers she serves, but as soon as she thinks no one is looking, her shoulders slump, and she curves her back as if in pain. She looks exhausted, vulnerable. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a messy bun, stray strands framing her face as she absentmindedly taps at the register. There’s a weariness to her movements that seems out of place for someone so young. I wonder what has brought her to this point and why Ciarán is so interested in her. She doesn’t appear to be the type of woman he’d go for. I’d bet my left bollock she has no idea about the criminal underground that runs beneath the city like a river of blood.
However, as much as I want to turn away, finding this a waste of time, but at the same time, something compels me to keep watching, my own darkness whispering seductively in the back of my mind. It strikes me that my brother wants to corrupt her; it’s what I would do, after all. The lines between power and craving blur, and I’m drawn further into their tangled web the longer I stand here.
Turning back to Ciarán, I notice he has ducked out. “Fuck,” I mutter.
I’m torn between continuing to watch Tinks and following Ciarán. In the end, the choice is clear.
Tinks means something to him, and that means she can be leveraged. So my focus has changed to watching and waiting for the opportunity to strike with Tinks.
Wondering briefly what her real name is, I shrug. Doesn’t really matter. I watch as she begins to pack up for the day. Something about her movements seems deliberate as if she’s trying to hide her exhaustion from the other employees. It’s an act that doesn’t fool me, but I can appreciate the effort, nonetheless. As she heads towards the exit, I follow her from a distance, keeping my steps quiet and measured.
Outside, the humid air hits me like a slap in the face as I continue to trail Tinks, who walks with her head down, lost in thought. As she turns down an alley that leads to a large parking lot, I quicken my pace, closing the distance between us.
My heart races as I get closer to her. Her perfume is a heady scent that sends a thrill straight to my cock. Strange as the sensation is, I know that I want her. I’m beginning to understand the attraction my brother has with her. She’s different, unique, and there’s a particular vulnerability to her that makes me want to protect her and possess her at the same time.
She stops next to her car, her keys already out. She opens it and slides in, starting the engine and locking the doors with a noticeable click. She drives off, and I let her go, for now, knowing that my chance will come soon enough. I’ll have to make my move carefully, planning each step with precision, but it will be worth it to get what I want. Tinks is a means to an end, a way for me to gain power and control in this city, and I won’t let anyone or anything stand in my way. As I watch her car disappear into the distance, I begin to plot my next move. My mind is racing with possibilities, each more dangerous and thrilling than the last. I know that I’ll have to tread carefully, not a single misstep, in order to get what I want.
